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At the edge of the Baja Peninsula, One&Only Palmilla was originally built in 1956 as a 15-room hideaway for Don Abelardo Rodriguez, son of the then-president of Mexico. Today, it’s one of the region’s most luxurious resorts, composed of 174 oceanfront rooms and suites and two villas decorated in neutral hues and splashes of red; many have infinity pools and patios that face the Sea of Cortez.


One&Only Palmilla has one of the area’s few swimmable beaches, plus three private rocky coves complete with floating beds, lounge chairs, and dedicated butlers. Activities include snorkeling, surfing, parasailing, and golfing the award-winning 27-hole course designed by Jack Nicklaus. The massive spa’s wellness garden features a juice bar and 13 treatment villas; several have private plunge pools, rain showers, and swinging daybeds.



One&Only Palmilla is a member of EarthCheck, a scientific benchmarking certification program, for its sustainability efforts, which include a state-of-the-art water purification system that produces and bottles filtered water on site. The resort works with the Red Committee for the Protection of the Sea Turtle by helping with daily patrols of nearby nests, an activity guests can join.

Esperanza is located on the southern side of Vieques island with a laid-back vibe reminiscent of Key West. This small town has an main street that runs parallel to the ocean called “El Malecón” that is dotted with friendly guest houses, funky bars and even gourmet restaurants. It makes a great base for exploring the island’s treasures: it’s walking distance to Playa Esperanza and Sun Bay and only a 10-20 minute drive to the secluded beaches in the wildlife refuge.

Another food-truck-made-good in a permanent location, Molly Moon’s now has five locations around town, but still sends out its iconic baby-blue truck for special events — just follow your nose to the heavenly scent of their freshly made waffle cones. Flavors range from classics like vanilla bean and strawberry to local specialties like Theo Chocolate or Stumptown Coffee (pro tip: get those two swirled together), with more adventurous rotating seasonal flavors (current offerings include blackberry bergamot and watermelon mint sorbet). Locally sourced, organic ingredients are the emphasis here. They also have vegan options and pints to go, as well as plenty of merchandise featuring their goofy-cute pug mascot, Parker Posey.

Since 1862, fresh flowers and plants have arrived by barge from the Dutch countryside to Amsterdam. While this assemblage of flora still shows up daily, it comes by van, not boat, to the Bloemenmarkt, the world’s only floating flower market. Here, you can browse 15 fragrant stalls on houseboats permanently moored on the Singel. Now the best-known flower market in Holland, this colorful attraction is packed with tourists on sunny weekends. Still, it’s a great place to pick up Dutch tulip bulbs in a plethora of shades and varieties, as well as many other types of bulbs, seeds, cut blooms, and houseplants. Ship a bag of bulbs home, or grab a souvenir at one of several shops hawking T-shirts, mugs, clogs, Dutch cheese, and other fun and inexpensive gifts.

In recent years, the craze for artisanal beers has given rise to a burgeoning market. One brand, Hocus Pocus, has gone so far as to open its own taproom, where its ever-expanding variety of beers is on offer. The setting is a former workshop with exposed-brick walls and shared tables that add a twist to the usual Rio beer hall (though be prepared for crowds and the possibility of not finding a table). There’s also a full portfolio of the Brazilian snacks called petiscos, notably a tongue sandwich with mustard, tube steaks, and lots of deep-fried nibbles. Classic rock serenades the scene.

Nestled on a side street off Telok Ayer in Chinatown, this unassuming 40-seat restaurant with exposed-brick walls and funky local art earned a Michelin star in 2017 for its creative and very modern Australian fare. The ethos is simple: straightforward ingredients and surprising presentation. Take the signature Duck & Waffles—confit duck smothered in a spicy caramel sauce on top of crispy waffles. The wild venison with wasabi and zucchini is something wonderfully different, and so is the cuttlefish roasted pigeon. Beets with goat cheese, barramundi with leeks, and funky desserts like coconut with laksa-leaf ice cream make an indelible impression on foodies who think (and eat) outside the box.

While you’re in Damaraland, the Organ Pipes are just a short drive away from Twyfelfontein and the Petrified Trees. After paying a small tip for a guide to accompany you (there was no real indication if this is necessary or not so you might just want to roll with it) you descend down into a crevice so that you can walk among the rock formations. No explanation is needed as to why this area got it’s nickname. Each basalt rock has a different hue, ranging from grey to reddish orange, further exposed over time as the land erodes away. It doesn’t take very long to walk a short loop to the exit and is an interesting geological site to photograph and visit.

Just inland from Ensenada, Baja California exists a wonderland of fine wine, haciendas and Provencal restaurants. There is an energy here that is worth dawning the bullet proof vest and heading a couple hours south of the Mexican boarder to check out the excitement and culinary innovation. In the Valle de Guadalupe wineries and restaurants are redefining where fine wine comes from and what Mexican cuisine can be. The Valle de Guadalupe sits in a valley that warms through the day and is cooled every evening by the onshore flow off the ocean, allowing perfect conditions for grape growing; which has been going on here for over a hundred years. Additionally, the valley is a source of fine olive oil, locally grown herbs and produce, local farms and seafood from the nearby ocean. The best way to experience this culinary movement is to stay at a winery like Adobe Guadalupe or Vinedos Malagon in the heart of the valley. These wineries offer more than just wine tasting and luxury, they offer activities, ranging from horseback riding to cooking classes, deep sea fishing or dirt biking. The best part of it all is you can still fill up on classic Mexican tacos and mariscos when the fine dining and wine becomes too much.

The Evergreen Brick Works, a reclaimed quarry in the lush Don Valley, is a showcase for sustainable and green living, as well as for urban design. A community has been established in this once-derelict industrial site and former landfill. Toronto’s largest farmers’ market sets up shop on Saturdays, and spotlights food from all over the province. On Sunday, the market shifts its attention to crafts. A full schedule of activities and diversions make this a perfect weekend escape: There’s a children’s garden (with weekly programming), bike trails and rentals, and a hike that leads to a rewarding view of the city’s skyline.

There’s something about a place being “secret” that makes it exponentially more exciting. Counter Reformation, the European-style wine bar hidden from sight inside the Parker hotel, lives up to that notion. Open from Thursday to Monday, 3 to 10 p.m., the pocket-sized shrine to great wine has no tables and takes no reservations (though leaning at the low-lit 14-seat bar is encouraged). But there is food, and fantastic food at that. Instead of trying to be everything to everybody, Counter Reformation’s tapas menu is short and original, including caviar served with crème fraîche and a quail egg, plus a layered summer tomato salad with melon. The wines are carefully curated from California, France, and Italy, with a few wild cards from places like Portugal and Oregon, and are all priced the same. While the spot has the feel of an insider’s club, it’s without pretense, with the experts behind the bar providing enthusiastic guidance. For dessert, order the foie gras macarons with sea salt, with a sip of champagne. If you overdo it, don’t worry: You can ask for forgiveness in the restaurant’s authentic confessional booth, shipped in from Italy.

The D.O.M., which opened in late 2013, is a five-star boutique hotel in the heart of Rome’s historic center. Originally built as a 17^th-century noble palace, the property was subsequently converted into a monastery, then Ministry of Justice offices. Its current design, which blends architectural elements from its previous uses, was entrusted to architect Antonio Girardi, who has seamlessly married Renaissance reverence and modern design.

Thanks to the previous ecclesiastical incarnation, rooms are intimate and many have low ceilings. Dark gray and brown hues mingle with velveteen, brick, and wood, creating a cavernous feel in the ground-floor common areas, which contrast with the bright and open rooftop terrace and its views over Rome’s Renaissance quarter and across the river to Trastevere. On the ground floor, a small reception area precedes the hotel bar and restaurant, as well as a small enclosed terrace.

In October 2014, Chef Enrique Olvera opened his much-anticipated New York restaurant Cosme, which offers an inventive dining experience in the Flatiron District. The spacious restaurant is a short walk from Langham Place, Fifth Avenue, and features modern Mexican dishes with locally sourced ingredients and housemade tortillas. But guests should not come expecting standard chips and guacamole, Chef Olvera is known for utilizing creative and sometimes surprising ingredients in his dishes. Menu items include burrata, salsa verde and weeds, and occidental purple corn pozole, pork jowl, lettuce, radish, Mexican oregano. The eclectic menu items are meant to be shared, and certain Mexican specialties, like dried chiles, beans and heirloom corn are imported from Mexico. Chef Olvera’s Mexico City restaurant Pujol has gained world fame for his fresh take Mexican food, and Cosme offers more stellar options. The bar also pours a wide variety of mezcals and tequilas. Photo by T.Tseng/Flickr.

On the desolate site of the 2010 World Expo, the Chinese government has transformed an old power station into an artistic gem. Power Station of Art (PSA) is the first state-owned contemporary art museum in China, so while that precludes shows that might be deemed too avant-garde, it also means admission to the big-name exhibitions is heavily subsidized—and sometimes even free! In addition to hosting the Shanghai Biennale, the museum puts on shows running the gamut from modern Danish design to punk rock history and works by Shanghai street artist JR.

This Neoclassical building from the mid-19th century stands at one end of a large urban park. The interior of the Capitol is worth a visit—its rotunda and historic rooms reflect the history of lawmaking and governing in this state. The small exhibits from every California county highlight the natural beauty and local specialties from all parts of the state. They line the downstairs addition, which is enhanced with Art Deco details and includes the governor’s office. Outside the Capitol is Capitol Park, one of my favorite outdoor spaces in Sacramento. The paths wind past trees from all over the world (a map is available), memorials, a succulent garden, and a rose garden at the other end of the park.

When I stepped into the grand lobby of Québec’s Le Château Montebello, I felt like I was entering Paul Bunyan’s living room. Giant timbers braced a three-story-high ceiling, and a massive fireplace in the center radiated warmth in all directions. After checking in, I joined the guests gathered around the six-sided hearth and sank into a leather club chair. I spent the rest of the day by the fire, sipping hot toddies and napping, as the comfort of the crackling flames sent me and the other fireside dozers snuggling deeper into our cushions. I had come to ski some of the 65,000 acres of wooded backcountry that neighbor the resort, but the château was so welcoming, I found it hard to leave.


Often described as the world’s largest log cabin, the lodge and two other main buildings were constructed in 1930 from 10,000 red cedar logs and 500,000 handmade wooden shingles. The houses and the vast surrounding forests were long owned by the politically prominent Papineau family, and until 1970, the estate remained a private nature retreat for Canada’s upper class. As I walked through the château’s halls, the intricately carved banisters and exposed beams reminded me of the great western lodges in the U.S. national parks—only without any grumpy tourists demanding to know where the animals are.

In the guest rooms, deluxe amenities such as flat-screen TVs and rain-dome showerheads upstaged anything found in Yellowstone or Yosemite. Despite the modern perks, rawhide lampshades and other rustic details helped my suite retain its frontier appeal. When I got up to pull the plaid drapes closed that night, I watched a horse-drawn sleigh pass by, glowing in the moonlight against the dark ribbon of the frozen Ottawa River.

Without fresh snow to ski the next morning, I was left to explore the lodge’s other activities. I opted out of getting scrubbed with maple sugar at the spa or unsuccessfully flirting with French-Canadian women by the fire, and instead devoted the day to learning the inscrutable rules of curling. The château has an indoor ice rink dedicated to the sport, a national favorite that’s best described as a combination of shuffleboard and falling down a lot. My instructor was Henri, a kindly sexagenarian who, like many in Québec’s western Outaouais region, seemed more comfortable speaking French than English. As it turns out, kindly reassurance sounds the same in either language. But as my backside repeatedly hit the ice, Henri’s patient polyglot insistence that I was doing “une belle job” grew progressively less convincing.

After my rough-and-tumble day, I dined in the white-tablecloth Aux Chantignoles restaurant. Québecois cuisine dominates the menu, and I followed a dinner of tender venison osso buco with a slice of Québec’s famously sweet and jiggly sugar pie—think pecan pie sans pecans. Snow fell just in time for me to ski through the nearby forest on my last day. I spent a long afternoon there, gliding among stands of birch, pine, and spruce in the rolling Laurentian Highlands. Now and again, I paused to admire one of the countless frozen lakes, their smooth surfaces dotted with tracks left by moose and white-tailed deer. I skied in the silent wilderness until just after sunset. As the scent of a wood fire began to tickle my nose, I grew eager to cozy up by the hearth again. I turned back toward the château’s stone chimney, its rising plume of smoke signaling for my return.
This appeared in the November/December 2010 issue.