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Southern charm and Asian aesthetics meld seamlessly at the Mandarin Oriental, located on 15 floors of a high-rise building in the tony boutique-filled Buckhead neighborhood. Beyond a striking marble lobby, the 127 rooms feel like home—albeit a luxurious one—thanks to interiors by renowned architect Robert A.M. Stern. Plush carpets, large working desks, velvet-upholstered armchairs, and high definition LED televisions join bathrooms finished in black-and-white marble, with twin vanities, sunken tubs, and Atelier Cologne bath products. Whether you want to swim laps in the 60-foot swimming pool or simply unwind in the private English garden, the hotel is like a cocoon from the outside world; guests of the spa are welcomed with seasonal tea and an o-shibori, a Japanese steamed towel, before indulging in their massages and facials. But should you need to leave the bubble, the shops in Lenox Square are walking distance from the hotel, and free car service is available to take you within a two-mile radius.

Simple in concept, excellent in execution, the Brickyard at Mutianyu is a destination in itself, situated about a 90-minutes drive from downtown Beijing in a traditional village. Recovered tile pieces form mosaics that pop out from the red brick walls—a nod to the building’s former life as an imperial tile factory. Brickyard has a modern feel, with rustic Chinese elements that allow this hotel to blend in with the surrounding village. The eco-conscious philosophy carries through to the working organic garden on the grounds. The rooms are open-concept, one side composed entirely of floor-to-ceiling windows, with views of the Great Wall extending atop the hills in the distance. Trails used by locals lead right up to the wall (a rather challenging hike), with no guards around to collect entrance fees. The Brickyard Homes, once peasant homes, have been whimsically restored by the hotel owner. They invite Frank Lloyd Wright–esque comparisons for their ability to integrate spare Asian design into a modern context.

There’s a pleasing bit of cognitive dissonance happening at Meliá Hanoi. Housed within a green-glass, part-cylindrical tower, the hotel tempers sleek European-style hospitality (think streamlined gray and cream furnishings and high-tech amenities like flat-screen TVs and satellite channels) with touches of local influence: depictions of pagodas and traditional gateways figure in giant murals along the walls and central column in the lobby, and lantern-inspired pendant lighting hangs in the guest rooms. The hotel sits in theHoan Kiem district, within walking distance of the lake and the Old Quarter, making it an ideal base for urban exploration, but there’s also plenty on site to keep you occupied, from the Mediterranean buffet and the palm-fringed outdoor swimming pool to the fitness center and Marquee Club, a nighttime haunt that attracts young Hanoians intent on drinking and dancing into the wee hours.

Iguanas swim here in the ocean, which, separated only by a line of palm trees, nearly laps right up to the front of La Casa de Marita. The three-level building began 20 years ago as a house, literally Marita’s house. It has continued to expand over the years, adding a room here and a wooden deck there. The idea was not to create a large hotel, but a family-friendly inn that’s just friendly and comfortable enough that everyone feels welcome. They’re short of being luxurious, but the colorful, funky rooms have clay-tile floors and are equipped with eclectic wooden furniture; those on the ocean side have small balconies crisscrossed with hammocks. An on-site restaurant caters mostly to hotel guests, often preparing buffet dinners or beachside tables for groups or special occasions. There are a few chairs and tables with umbrellas on the beachfront, which doesn’t sound like a lot, but here, it is all one needs.

Fans of Georgia O’Keeffe should definitely book a stay at this quaint adobe hotel in her old painting grounds. Not only is there a well-stocked gift shop where you can buy O’Keeffe prints and books, the property arranges tours of her home and studio, and is located near the Ghost Ranch retreat center and the White Place rock formations, both of which the artist loved to paint. Wood-beam ceilings and New Mexico antiques adorn rooms. Request one of the cottages with wood-burning Kiva fireplaces, or if you come in winter and book economy like I did, you’ll likely get upgraded to a nice room with a gas fireplace. My best meal in New Mexico was also enjoyed here. I ordered trout stuffed with corn pancakes and a chardonnay from nearby Black Mesa winery. My partner’s chili rellenos with green chili and Monk’s Ale—brewed at the Christ of the Desert Monastery about an hour away—were also tasty. It was a lovely introduction to the beautiful state.

I’m not one to skip breakfast, especially in Italy, where thoughts of cappuccino, pastries, and local ham tend to rouse me early from slumber. But on my first morning at the Hotel Sant’Angelo, in the old quarter of Matera, I was having a hard time dragging myself from the creature comforts of my cave. Staying in a cave, it turns out, can be surprisingly pleasant. There was just one small window high overhead, but the room and adjoining bath were in no way dank—a testament to the natural ventilation that keeps the caves cool and comfortable. The wavy contours of the white tufa-rock walls conjured a feeling of being enveloped in some primordial womb. Yet there were modern amenities: luxurious linens, Internet service, a telephone. Fred Flintstone never had it this good. I might have snoozed until noon, were it not for an impatient mate eager to see the sights. We had arrived in the village the previous night after a long drive across the treeless plains of the Basilicata region, located at the instep of Italy’s boot. Matera is an enchanted world of Stone Age splendor. Known as the sassi (Italian for stones), the bisque-colored hilltop cave homes comprise one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, according to UNESCO. The caves have provided shelter for more than 7,000 years. A millennium ago, shepherds inhabited them and carved churches into the rock; during the Renaissance, the area prospered and elaborate buildings were carved out, the excess tufa sculpted into ornate facades. By the early 1900s, the sassi had fallen into neglect. Families and their animals crowded into the caves for warmth, and disease was rampant. When writer Carlo Levi brought this tragic state of affairs to light with his 1945 book Christ Stopped At Eboli, the Italian authorities moved residents en masse to modern housing—leaving the sassi abandoned, save for the occasional crew brought by film makers (Pier Paolo Pasolini and Mel Gibson among them) in search of a biblical-looking backdrop. It was only in the 1990s that the Italian government encouraged people to move back. Residents revamped the cave dwellings as homes, restaurants, and inns. When the Sant’Angelo opened in 2004, it was the area’s first luxury hotel. The 19 cave rooms are sparsely but tastefully appointed with rustic wooden furniture. Some carved decorations—crosses, hearts, an owl—date back hundreds of years. Fossilized shells embedded in the walls reveal that the region once lay underwater. Eventually, my fiancé and I did emerge from our cave to wander the town’s ancient alleys. A local guide named Dora Cappiello took us into some of the 150 chiese rupestri (rock churches), where she pointed out wine troughs and frescoes of San Nicola, the patron saint of local shepherds. We also visited a cave dwelling that had been restored to resemble its state when the caves were equal parts manger and living space.
Simple, delicious meals punctuated our explorations. The curvy walls of Baccanti, a cave restaurant, created a private nook where we feasted on silky pappardelle pasta with a cinghiale (wild boar) ragu, accompanied by a dry, fruity red aglianico from the nearby Vulture wine region. Tired and sated after a full day, we headed back to our cave—on moonless nights, a flashlight or trail of bread crumbs is advised for the stumble back to the hotel—where the promise of a deep, sound night’s sleep awaited. —Amy Cortese Hotel Sant’Angelo, 39/0835-314010, from $211 for a double. This appeared in the March/April 2010 issue.

You may not know it, but as you peruse the stalls of vendors at Mercado San Juan, you just might be rubbing shoulders or vying for the plumpest, prettiest chayote with one of Mexico City‘s top chefs. San Juan is the market for serious home cooks and pro chefs alike. Here, you can find everything from just-off-the-boat fish and seafood to wild game. There have even been rumors over the years (urban legend or fact?) that if you know who to ask, you can procure true exotics here, including tiger and bear meats. If you’re not in the market for any goods to go, you can let your nose lead the way to a stall where prepared hot foods are sold. And don’t miss trying chapulines, toasted grasshoppers, which are a Mexican snack specialty.

You might have caught wind of some recent buzz about this contemporary patisserie with its unveiling of the haute dog, Craftsman and Wolves Chef William Werner’s upscale version of the classic American food (think better meat and a flaky, buttery croissant instead of a bun). Or perhaps you’ve heard people talking about a Mission bakery that served a savory muffin with a soft-cooked egg inside of it (it’s call the Rebel Within). Whatever the reason, head to Craftsman and Wolves for a changing menu of classic and innovative breakfast pastries, cakes, confections, confitures, desserts, lunch, and savory fare, with coffee, tea, hot chocolate, beer, and wine to wash it down. Craftsman and Wolves is open Mondays through Thursdays from 7 am to 7 pm, Fridays from 7 am to 8 pm, Saturdays from 8 am to 8 pm, and Sundays from 8 am to 7 pm. Can’t make it to Mission? Stop by the Ferry Plaza Farmer’s Market on Saturdays from 8 am to 2 pm or order through their online shop.

Want hot chiles? mild peppers? powder? paste? Across from the old Spanish mission in Tumacácori, you’ll find it. For decades, family-owned and family-run Santa Cruz Chili & Spice Co. has been providing flavors in Southern Arizona. There’s even a mini Western Museum...and of course, you can sample the sauces and salsas... The Santa Cruz valley, between Tucson and Nogales, is one of the oldest continually-farmed regions in the U.S.; for four thousand years, native peppers, beans, squash, cactus and corn have been cultivated, even here in the desert. Then, beginning in the 17th century, Spaniards introduced Mediterranean plants: grapes, figs, pomegranates, figs, quince...and cattle ranching. A small garden on the grounds of the Tumacácori mission across the road from the Santa Cruz Chili Co. still grows some of these heirloom crops. A visit to the mission and spice market make for a great afternoon or day trip from Tucson. Go south from Tucson on I-19 for about an hour. (Note: I-19 is marked in kilometers, not miles; quirky.) Take Exit 29, turn left, then turn north on the old highway, and you’ll see the big chile-pepper sign on the left, just before you get to Tumacácori mission National Historical Park. The store is closed on Sundays.

There are few places with as much ambiance as the Coffee House at McMurdo Station. When you drum up your ideas of what a coffee and wine bar in Antarctica should look like, this matches to perfection. I enjoyed my time there so much that I also spent numerous hours behind the bar serving up bottles of wine and lattes with an occasional biscotti to scientists, contractors, and several notables who traipsed through the Station as “distinguished visitors.” The building was once used as an exclusive Officer’s Club, but has since been opened up to the summer population of as many as 1100 people. After a cold day of work or weeks in a field camp, folks can warm up with a coffee or hot cocoa; often with a spot of Amaretto, Baileys, or whiskey thrown into the frothy mix. The fact that dry milk is the staple on station is usually secondary to the use of a ‘real’ espresso machine, and it also makes special deliveries of fresh New Zealand milk by friends in the Air Force all the more special. The coffee house culture runs deep here where people come to play a game of cribbage, socialize over knitting, chat with the bartender/barista, listen to live local music, watch a movie, or just escape from the weather.

Another of attorney-turned-hotelier Loh Lik Peng’s boutique properties (along with the New Majestic), Wanderlust is perhaps the quirkiest hotel in Singapore, taking guests on a fanciful journey that befits its name. The building opened in the 1920s as the Hong Wen Chinese School and later served as a settlement where Indian immigrants reared livestock. Its unchanged sober white facade with black shutters gives little hint of the outré interiors. Each of the four floors was fashioned by a different Singaporean design agency, resulting in various themes. In the lobby, an industrial-glam aesthetic manifests itself in an old-fashioned collapsible metal gate repainted in gold, a Frank Gehry-designed sofa, and seats made from recycled road signs by Australian Trent Jansen. Rooms on the “Creature Comforts” floor include Typewriter, where giant lettered arms reach out and up from a sofa with keyboard letters on the upholstery, while lanterns cast shadows of monsters along the corridors.

Hoshinoya Tokyo is a modern ryokan that gracefully stands between the Imperial Palace and the Journalism Center of Tokyo. Built upon the heritage of Japanese inns, this hotel exudes warmth and minimal elegance from every angle.

At first glance, I was drawn to the understated steel pattern of the facade that’s graphically new, yet mysterious ancient. Once inside, I was immediately soothed by the interior decor and furnishings crafted from the finest woods and fibers native to Japan. On each floor, there is an Ochanoma lounge where you can read or enjoy tea by the diffused light of the shoji screens. My favorite part of the ryokan is the hot springs on the top floor. If you have seen and love the Skyspace series from artist James Turrell, onsen is where you can truly feel connected to earth, water and sky.

I travel for the opportunity to learn and to see things anew. On the subject of Japanese aesthetics, the novelist Jun’ichiro Tanizaki writes “We do not dislike everything that shines, but we do prefer a pensive luster to a shallow brilliance, a murky light that, whether in a stone or an artifact, bespeaks a sheen of antiquity.” I read this as a young design student but it’s only until my stay at the hotel that I vividly saw this sheen of antiquity. I highly recommend Hoshinoya Tokyo for the finest amenities and a chance to experience the modern Japanese approach to beauty and design.

Like a nautical version of the yellow brick road, illuminated anchors embedded in the floors of Ironside Fish & Oyster lead you to the Emerald City of raw bars, where the bounteous platters come in Big, Bigger, Biggest, and Holy Sh*t. This last assortment might include, say, 24 oysters, 14 shrimp, 14 mussels, two pounds of lobster, two ounces of sustainable royal white sturgeon caviar, a portion of rockfish ceviche, and some kanpachi crudo for good measure (the mix changes daily according to what’s fresh). Not that lovers of cooked seafood will go hungry at chef Jason McLeod’s Little Italy hot spot, where the catch of the day is a perennial favorite. There’s even a small yet mighty vegetarian lineup (think charred broccolini with dried chilis, garlic, and parmesan; and Japanese sweet potato with scallion chimichurri and puffed quinoa). It’s all rounded out by an impressive bar, where 11 categories of whiskey are represented. While the menu occasionally diverges from the strictly seafaring, the decor never does. The interior design features prow figureheads turned lighting fixtures and artful stacks of steamer trunks.

The two owners of Galapagos Safari Camp dreamed up the idea for this luxury tent camp while sitting in a tree and admiring the views on the 135-acre farm where the lodge now sits. Opened in 2007 in the highlands of Santa Cruz’s transition zone at 1,575 feet above sea level and bordering Galapagos National Park, the camp is modeled after African safari camps but sports an Ecuadoran theme. The main lodge, complete with a 15-foot Balinese teak dining table and a glass wall looking out to sweeping vistas of the Pacific Ocean, anchors the rural property. The luxury tents are connected to the lodge by a volcanic rock path and sheltered under three layers of covering to protect from sun and rain. They sit on elevated platforms and are outfitted with balconies and en-suite bathrooms with hot showers. Part of the owners’ vision for the property has been to rid the former cattle farm of invasive species, allowing the endemic plants that are better protected in the national park to once again flourish. These measures will increase the activity of the giant tortoises that occasionally make their way onto the property.

Whether you choose the wine bar in the basement, the gourmet food hall on the ground floor (where you can also buy hot food to eat in the wine bar), or the fine dining restaurant in a big, bright open space on the first floor, you won’t be disappointed with the quality of food in this Exchequer Street emporium, much of which is organic. Main courses on the menu include dishes like grilled Irish lamb rump with broad bean succotash, black garlic and aubergine purée and smoked potato croquette, or aged Irish rib-eye steak with a choice of Béarnaise, brandy peppercorn or truffle butter sauce. There’s also an excellent lunch menu and the pre-theater dinner menu is good value and runs all night Sunday to Tuesday and from 5.30 to 7pm, Wednesday to Saturday.