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A shared love for southern Italian comfort food and a chance encounter in the supermarket drew chefs Antonio d’Alaimo and Ciro Genova into this gastronomic venture. The Italian duo, known to everyone as Ciro and Tony, personally welcome every guest to their small dining room. The menu features, among other things, veal marsala, snapper in wine sauce with fresh tomato and laurel, and tortellini Alessandro (pasta stuffed with chopped ham and cream). A wide-ranging wine list and tempting dessert menu help round out the evening.

After the Grand Canyon, Arizona’s second-biggest sightseeing destination is...London Bridge. And unlike many ‘world landmarks’ from up the road in Las Vegas, this is actual Old World stonework, meticulously de-constructed, transported, and re-constructed over the waters of a dammed section of the Colorado River. To be honest, I wouldn’t call this a ‘destination,’ but if you happen to be passing through the area on a road-trip, or if you’re a die-hard anglophile driving through the Desert Southwest, then this curiosity is worth a stop. This early 19th-century bridge began sinking in the early 20th-century as automobile traffic (for which the bridge hadn’t been designed) increased over the Thames, and so in the 1960’s the bridge was literally put up for sale. Arizona entrepreneur Robert P. McCulloch paid about two and a half million dollars for it, had it meticulously disassembled, shipped to California via the Panama Canal, and then trucked across to this spot on the the eastern banks of the Colorado River, a few hours south of Las Vegas. By 1971, the work was finished, and now you can kayak or jet-ski under these curious but venerable arches. (Note--Lake Havasu City has become a wildly popular college-crowd spring-break destination...and summers are brutally hot.)

Every April, thousands of visitors descend upon Augusta, Georgia for The Masters golf tournament. While the azaleas and dogwoods that line the fairways are beautiful, the streetscape outside the Augusta National Golf Club is a car-dominated aesthetically unfortunate collection of chain restaurants and strip-mall-churches--not exactly what you’d expect if you were to believe the city’s official nickname of “The Garden City.” Drive just ten minutes away, however, and you’ll end up in the Augusta Downtown Historic District, set aside by the National Park Service due to its collection of architecture from the 1780’s to the present. (Sherman didn’t march through this part of the state, sparing it the Civil War damage that destroyed Atlanta.) Georgia’s second-largest and second-oldest city might not be a ‘destination’ in the way that Savannah and Atlanta are (unless you love golf), but if you’re in town and architecture interests you, it’s worth spending some time down by the Savannah River. One of the tallest structures is the Lamar building--built in the 1910’s. In the mid-1970’s it was topped by a glass penthouse, designed by...I. M. Pei--the same architect who is perhaps best known for the now-iconic glass pyramid that dominates the courtyard of the Louvre in Paris. Augusta’s piece of Parisian-linked-architecture-fame is locally known as “the toaster.” Just slightly irreverent...

To get from Albuquerque to Santa Fe, don’t take I-25 North--it’s busy and sterile. Drive east on I-40 to the backside of the Sandía Mountains, get off on exit 175, and head north on Highway 14, also known as “The Turquoise Trail.” You’ll wind through forest to plateau, through mining towns and old Spanish land grants. Halfway to Santa Fe you’ll come to Madrid. (Note--do NOT pronounce it the way you would the capital of Spain; here it’s “MAD-rid.”) In the early 20th-c., some four thousand people lived here; by WWII it had become a ghost town when the local coal demand dropped. By the 1970’s the town began to be reoccupied--artists moved in, galleries set up...it claims to have more artists per capita than any other town in the country. (The population is around 400.) And in 2006, the town served as the set for the John Travolta film “Wild Hogs.” Driving in from the south, you’ll note the brightly painted houses; just after the highway curves, find a place to park among the motorcycles and grab a coffee at Java Junction (they have a B&B upstairs)--their motto: “Bad Coffee sucks.” The morning I stopped here, the café had a welcome sign in German; some Mercedes businessmen were having a road-trip meeting...Madrid is alive and well.

No, you don’t have the wrong address—this is indeed a downtown office building and parking garage. But don’t be alarmed. Walk through the door, and Café Poca Cosa’s stylish interior tells you immediately that this is no boring strip mall Tex-Mex joint. Neither, fortunately, is it an overly precious nouvelle-cuisine bore. It’s been voted “Best Mexican” in Tucson by locals, who know that chimichangas were born in this desert town. That said: you’ll find no chimichanga combo-plate here. Chef-owner Suzana Davila changes the chalkboard menu twice a day. Her concentration is on fresh ingredients and innovative dishes that translate regional cuisines rather than betray tradition. National publications have sung her praises, but Ms. Davila still checks on her own customers and eats lunch in the dining room with everyone else. She’s a self-taught native of Guaymas who can concoct over two dozen varieties of mole. Complex sauces, refreshing drinks (such as pineapple-basil agua fresca), and Baroque masks in red niches await you. Come for a late lunch on a weekday if you want to avoid the justifiable crowds. Have an open mind (and mouth), and discover how great contemporary Mexican cooking can be. Tucson can be proud of its plentiful taco trucks and Sonoran hot dog stands, but Poca Cosa celebrates the variety of Mexican cuisine for when you want to sit down in style. Buen provecho!

During my last stay in Seoul, I spent most of my time in the historic heart of the city north of the Han river. I did take a Sunday afternoon, though, to walk around the Gangnam district—the chic high rise–dominated neighborhood south of the river. (As recently as a few decades ago, this area was still rice-paddies.) Just around the corner from Bong-eun-sa temple (which dates from the 8th century), this striking building caught my eye: the headquarters for the Hyundai Development Company. Designed by renowned architect Daniel Libeskind, it’s known as “The Tangent.” In the architect’s words, “the Tangent is a project that is about the relationship between the ever-changing circle of nature and the straight line of technology.” (Those words could also succinctly describe the recent history of postwar Korea.) In my mind, though, because this structure reminds me of one of my favorite artists, this is the Kandinsky building in Seoul. And across the street, beneath the Korea World Trade Center tower, is the COEX mall, Asia’s largest underground shopping center. Grab a bite in the food court and get a feel for the youth pop-culture vibe; a K-pop dance competition just might be taking place on a nearby stage. To get here: Take Subway Line 2, exit Samseong (COEX) station.

About 25 miles north of the site of the 2018 Winter Olympics, and just 25 miles south, as the crow flies, of the heavily fortified DMZ, the Jujeonggol valley in Seoraksan Nat’l Park is an oasis of jade-colored waters beneath pinnacles of pine-studded granite. Hiking in this valley, you begin to understand where the Asian landscape aesthetic comes from; the first time I came here, I felt as if I were moving about inside a silk scroll painting. Downstream is a Buddhist temple site with its famed Osaek medicinal springs--the high mineral-content water comes out of the stone slightly bubbly: natural carbonation! The tranquility of these valleys, far from the pulsating night lights of Seoul, belies the occasionally troubled past of Korea’s history; fierce battles were fought near here just six decades ago during the Korean War. But people have been seeking, and finding, solace in these mountains for thousands of years. Before today’s hikers came yesterday’s monks; some of the world’s earliest Zen temples are located in this region, built at a time when leopards and tigers were a very real threat in these forests. While much of Seoraksan National Park is easily accessible by public transportation from the nearby coastal city of Sokcho, this section is less-well served; renting a car would be a good option here.

There are no boats here, where the Han River flows into the Yellow Sea--this is the watery mine-laden western limit of the DMZ. On a trip to Korea in the mid-1990’s, one of my uncles took us to visit Aegibong, a 500-ft.-high hill that presides over the estuary. From the top of the hill we could see across and into North Korea. The first thing that struck me was the lack of trees--the mountainsides are completely deforested, except for the inaccessible fringe of riverbank. As far as we could see on this clear early autumn day, the slopes above the golden rice paddies were denuded of trees. When the wind blew in the right direction, we could hear propaganda from the loudspeakers on the north bank. A few months later, Kim Il Sung would die, and the North Korean famine would intensify; it’s estimated that up to 1 in 10 North Koreans perished during the mid-to-late 1990’s...all of this while Seoul, just to the southeast of the scene in this photo, would continue to grow into one of the most vibrantly capitalistic cities anywhere... South Korea would morph into the most Internet-connected country in the world, while the North would devolve into a place where doctors have to scrounge in the hills for edible weeds...

The Thermal Water Pool of Terra Nostra Park is without doubt a highlight of the Azores. Built in 1780, by Thomas Hickling, the American consul who had the original idea for Terra Nostra Park, the Thermal Water Pool began to form part of the assembly dominated by Yankee Hall, a holiday house owned by Hickling. The pool was significantly smaller at that time, but already consisted of an “island” in the middle, with a bridge linking it to the land. The Thermal Water Pool was enlarged in 1935, acquiring its present form, with the refurbishment of the Park, operated by Vasco Bensaude. It was also enhanced by quarry stone masonry, remaining unchanged to date, undergoing only a few minor repairs.

Could there be a more glorious setting for a cheese’s origin? These pastures surrounding a hilltop village (Gruyères) crowned with a castle (the Château de Gruyères), happy Swiss cows grazing with views of the Alps all around, producing the milk which, in time, arrives on grocery shelves as cheese around the world, stamped ‘GRUYÈRE’...and there’s a geometric garden in the castle’s courtyard, too.

You’ve made it to the splendid isolation of Ulleung-do island’s north shore...Now, where to sleep? “Chusan Ilga Pension” is one of the island’s best choices: above the waves, on a clifftop beneath a volcanic peak, with a granite Buddha overlooking the greenery to the west and a fishing village just down the steep road to the east... This is rustic comfort: the floors are heated in the traditional Korean manner, the timbers are exposed, but the double-paned windows can either shut out the roar of the sea or let in the salty breeze, as you wish. Downstairs is a restaurant that serves the local seafood and mountain vegetables. There are several buildings on this clifftop, but the one with the restaurant offers three rooms with balconies almost directly above the sea; ask for one of these. To get here: take the coastal road from the port where you disembark from the ferry. You can’t get lost--there’s only one coastal road. Go counterclockwise around the island. Once you reach the north side, look out for the Elephant Rock in the sea and Songotsan peak on your right. Soon you’ll see a sign for Seongbulsa Temple, pointing up an almost immpossibly steep road. Start climbing and after the first bend, Chusan Ilga will be on your right. (The website is in Korean only, but the central tourist office in Seoul can phone for you; you’ll have to wire money through a Korean bank to confirm your room.)

Visitors flock to southern Arizona for sun and saguaros... ...but for a hole in the ground? Other than the ones on golf courses? From the 1960’s to the 1980’s, Tucson was ringed by eighteen steel-and-concrete-reinforced holes in the ground--highly secure shafts in the desert that housed intercontinental ballistic missiles tipped with multi-megaton nuclear bombs. “Peace through Deterrance” was the idea, as the propaganda-phrase goes... Of the 54 Titan Missile complexes that were scattered around the country, only this one, about 45 minutes south of Tucson, has been preserved and opened to the public. It’s a startling reminder of how thin the line was that separated the “Cold War” from “M.A.D."--"mutual assured destruction.” It would only have taken 30 minutes from its desert launch for this missile to deliver unimaginable destruction--via a 9 megaton nuclear warhead--up to 6300 miles (10,000km) away... On a lighter note, some of the filming of one of the Star Trek films took place here. You can visit the subterranean control bunker and staff living quarters, access corridors, and the missile silo itself. Tours are offered on the hour year-round, with additional tours offered every thirty minutes from January through April. Closed Christmas and Thanksgiving. Whether you’re coming from the left or from the right, politically, the sobering reality of this fusion of human nature and technology is worth going underground for if you’re driving down I-19.

Yes, New Mexico actually has an official “state question"--since 1996, referring to the ubiquitous chile sauce, it’s “red or green?” Fortunately you don’t have to choose just one; the local way to say ‘can I have both’ is just one word: “Christmas.” If you’re driving through New Mexico on the way to Arizona and points beyond, the only town of any size on I-40 between Albuquerque and Flagstaff is Gallup. For road-trip food here, get away from the Interstate and its humdrum chain restaurants. Seek out Jerry’s--a block off old Route 66. You can’t miss the retro neon sign, and there’s often a line out the door for its New Mexico-style fare. Gallup is surrounded by Navajo, Hopi, and Zuni lands--you might well be one of the few non-Native-Americans eating here at breakfast or lunch. The restaurant allows local vendors to come in and show their wares--usually jewelry and bracelets--while you eat. (You can request a ‘do not disturb’ sign for your booth if you want.) “Hole in the wall” gets overused, but Jerry’s definitely fits that description. Nothing pretentious here--but the flavor of the chile sauce is as good as you’ll find in Albuquerque or Santa Fe. A recommendation: the flat cheese-and-onion-enchiladas, topped “Christmas” style with a fried egg on top. And don’t forget to sop up the sauce with the sopaipillas, saving some of the frybread to top with honey as a dessert afterwards...

New Mexico has an official state vegetable: the chile pepper. (In case you’re wondering, only 13 out of the 50 states even have such a designation.) And the self-proclaimed chile capital is the tiny agricultural village of Hatch--population 1600. But every year, on Labor Day weekend, up to thirty thousand people converge here to celebrate the hot pods during the annual Hatch Chile Festival. Climate and soil here converge for optimal pepper-growing. If you can’t make it to the Rio Grande Valley in early September, don’t worry about the flavor running out--roasted then frozen or canned, or dried and powdered, Hatch chiles can be had year-round. At Pepper Pot, a family-owned restaurant on what passes for the village’s main drag, try them stuffed--the chile relleno--or in sauce form, over enchiladas, burritos, huevos...And when it comes to which sauce to choose, New Mexico has an official state question: “red or green?” The local (and tastiest) way to answer is “Christmas,” and you’ll get both. This is down-to-earth terroir... Incidentally, several years ago, Anthony Bourdain passed through here and proclaimed Pepper Pot’s red enchiladas to be the best he’d ever had. Come judge for yourself. Open for breakfast and lunch, this converted home is a cash-only restaurant. The borders of both Texas and Mexico are only an hour away, and it’s a favorite with local farmers and bikers passing through; if you decide to eavesdrop, you’ll be hearing trilled Rs and twangy English.

College-town hiking aficionados usually know where to eat, so when the guys up the street at Babbitts Backcountry Outfitters told me this was one of the best places in town for weekend brunch, I went. A lunch-and-dinner place during the week, Criollo Latin Kitchen opens up on weekend mornings with offerings from blue corn pancakes to pork belly tacos, with poblano cheddar grits, sweet ancho chili sausage gravy, and Haitian ‘ti-malice'-inspired relish to go with eggs over easy. And along with the artists’ paintings that change monthly, the food is “local” as well—the menu and the chalkboard on the wall will let you know the ranches and farms in Arizona and Colorado that are the sources for Criollo’s organic ingredients. On this particular morning, I had the “huevos motuleños,” the Yucatán’s version of “huevos rancheros.” And get some bacon—it’s hearty, comes from Black Mesa Ranch in the White Mountains, and will make you want to bring the word “toothsome” back into popular usage. Even if you’re just passing through Flagstaff on your way to the Grand Canyon, or driving from Albuquerque to Los Angeles, Criollo is worth a stop. It’s just a block north of historic old Route 66 downtown. (Criollo is owned by the same folks who opened the nationally-renown “Brix” just up the street—Flagstaff is becoming a restaurant mecca—and its newest sister restaurant is “Proper,” way down the road in Tucson. “Taco Tuesday” evenings with inexpensive margaritas can be crowded.)