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Few local D.C. residents know about St. Matthews Cathedral, and I would really be surprised if any visitors to D.C. knew about it, since it’s the National Cathedral that gets the mention in the guidebooks. That’s too bad, really, because this tiny Catholic church, with its unassuming exterior, has a glorious interior that few people see and appreciate. (Believe it or not, I get to come here for my Spanish classes.) Although it is a neighborhood church, it’s had its moments in the national spotlight. There have been many funeral services held here for notable people, including President Kennedy. For a cathedral, it has a very small interior—there are only seven chapels. The walls and ceiling are decorated with stunning images of angels and saints, including Matthew, rendered in marble and mosaic. The center dome helps to make the space feel larger. Last, but not least, there is a beautiful organ that is often featured in concerts and recitals; the sound of the music that pours forth from it is amazing! If you are visiting from out of town, I would recommend going to the church in the late morning. Then walk back toward the White House, stopping for lunch in McPherson Square. That’s where some of D.C.’s fleet of food trucks parks every day. Find a spot in the park to eat and enjoy your time in D.C.! The church is located about five blocks north of the White House and is a short walk from the Farragut North Metro station.

The best time to hit the mineral-fed pools at Indian Springs is just before closing, right around 9:30 p.m. Grab a float noodle, place it behind your neck, float on your back in the 102-degree water, and look up at the stars. No matter how cold the air might be, you will immediately relax. The Calistoga resort has been offering guests a similar experience for more than 150 years, though recent renovations have modernized the offerings and brought a new level of luxury and sophistication. The main attractions are the pools: one for all ages and another only for adults. Elsewhere on the property, an expansive spa offers massages and mud treatments; a restaurant—dubbed Sam’s Social Club—serves healthy California cuisine along with house-brewed beer. Accommodations vary widely, ranging from two-room cabins and expansive one-bedroom suites to multi-room bungalows and full-scale houses. Once you’ve had your fill of shuffleboard and bocce, walk into downtown Calistoga to shop at the local boutiques, or take the short trail to the top of the hill for a stellar view of the north end of the Napa Valley. Don’t miss: Perhaps the most spiritual part of the Indian Springs experience is the Wishing Tree in front of the spa. Write your wish on a card and tie it to the tree with the hundreds of others already there.

This is my favorite Scottsdale resort because it gets Southwestern style down without being kitschy or over-done. There are no cheesy dream catchers or Kokopelli statues here – just a color palette as bright and breathtaking as a desert sunset. Four Seasons Resort Scottsdale is perched in the city’s northern half, and surrounded by miles of Saguaro cacti and rugged rocks. Its location adjacent to Pinnacle Peak Park is perfect for hikers and if you crave more of an adrenaline rush, check out the high-octane tours from Arizona Outback Adventures. At Proof, the resort’s American canteen, dinner is practically a cross-country road trip with home-style comfort food inspired by, and sourced from, the 50 states. Plus, there’s a hearty list of wine, microbrews, and small batch and craft distilled American spirits. The Spa at Four Seasons also celebrates the resort’s sense of place with treatments like the Sonoran Honey Body Polish and Jojoba and Prickly Pear Polish.

West Randolph Street in Chicago’s West Loop has become a new home to the city’s culinary talents. Stephanie Izard first drew crowds cooking dishes like roasted pig face at Girl & the Goat (the restaurant pictured above). She then opened Little Goat, a retro diner, across the street. Graham Elliot Bowles keeps it simple at his casual g.e.b, where each dish has no more than three ingredients. On a more elegant note, the prix-fixe menu at Grace, from chef Curtis Duffy, features dishes such as kampachi with coconut, lime, basil, golden trout roe, and pomelo presented in a cylinder of frozen ginger water.

It might be a part of the Colorado River—a man-made reservoir carved out of the river in 1960—but everyone calls the body of water bisecting Austin Lady Bird Lake. On hot summer days, scores of walkers and joggers move along the lakeside paths through nearby Zilker Park, but you can also take to the water by canoe, kayak, water bike, or stand-up paddleboard. You can’t swim here, but the left fork (heading west) in the river will take you to Barton Springs Pool, a popular Austin hangout, where you can splash in the water to your heart’s—and body temperature’s—delight.

Never has a yummy treat been mired in such controversy as the Whoopie Pie. First, how did this burger-shaped cake with the sugary cream filling get its name? Does the name come from the exclamation that schoolchildren shouted upon opening their lunch bags to discover these delights? Or does it come from the Amish farmers, who were rewarded with these portable “pies” in their lunch boxes? My vote (and Pennsylvania Dutch lore) favors the school kids. But wait—there’s more controversy! While I am one hundred percent certain that these little cakes called pies originated in my lovely state of Pennsylvania, it seems that the state of Maine has also laid claim to their origin, even going so far as to name the Whoopie Pie as its “official state treat.” Other research points to somewhere in New York state as their birthplace. We may never know… There was a time not long ago when Whoopie Pies felt much like a prized local secret because no one outside of Pennsylvania had ever heard of them (excepting, I guess, some of those Mainers). These days, though, you can even find Whoopie Pies in the bakery sections at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods. But the most authentic and delicious version can only be found at the Amish bakery Beiler’s in the Reading Terminal Market. My personal favorite is the pumpkin flavor, but the chocolate is also delicious. Or maybe try the oatmeal, or the red velvet. Better yet, try one of each—they’re portable!

Reservations required—and no wonder. The tours at the Neon Museum sell out months in advance. A walk through the museum’s famous “Boneyard” (where neon goes to die) is fascinating, from motel row to the first integrated casino (one that shut almost as soon as it opened), and the Stardust, with its nuclear testing-inspired font. All of this comes alive thanks to the museum’s famous docents, all art history buffs with loads of family history or other personal anecdotes.

This property is closed through 2019 for repairs made necessary by hurricanes Irma and Maria.

Caneel Bay, one of the island’s more secluded and protected bays, is home to Caneel Bay Resort, a historic luxury hotel founded by Laurance Rockefeller. After opening the resort in 1956, Rockefeller donated the land on which it lies to become the Virgin Islands National Park, which covers about 60 percent of the island. Day-trippers can easily reach Caneel Bay by taxi from Cruz Bay. The resort has no fewer than seven beaches, including Honeymoon Beach, a short hike away. Come here to relax on the main beach, book water sports at the diving and snorkeling center and have lunch at the hotel restaurant.

You really can’t ask for fresher beer than they serve at the Pike. This huge pub is actually built around the equipment that is brewing the next batch as you drink. It’s the brainchild of Charles Finkel, whose passion is evident in this glorious shrine to beer, with his collections of bottles, ads and vintage merch covering every square inch of the place. When we visited, he was actually putting up some beer-themed stamp collections on one of the few remaining patches of uncovered wall; we got chatting, and in his enthusiasm he insisted on taking us down to the basement for a tour of the workfloor. Charles just adores what he does and you can taste it in the microbrews, a selection of lovingly crafted beers that you’ll struggle to find outside the Pacific Northwest. I loved “Naughty Nellie,” a golden ale that slips down rather too easily, but there’s more than a dozen types to choose from not to mention seasonal varieties (we visited at Halloween, when a special Pumpkin ale was on tap). A good way is to buy the tasting menu, which includes around eight of their flavours (although beware, some of them are fairly strong and might go to your head). The Pike’s easiest to find if you approach it from 1st Avenue, through Pike Place Market, although we stumbled onto it in Post Alley, where you can get an elevator up to the pub. We stumbled upon it when we were just gasping for a drink—but we got so much more.

New York City’s Chinese and Chinese American populations total around 570,000, making this the largest concentration of Chinese outside the mother country. The first Chinatown in Manhattan dates to the 1870s, and while it continues to grow, it has also been joined by other Chinatowns, including one in Flushing, Queens. That is where Joe’s Shanghai opened its first location, in 1995—though the two in Manhattan, on Pell Street in Chinatown and West 56th Street in Midtown, will be more convenient for most travelers. You can expect a wait for a table, and when you are seated you may be sharing it with strangers. The restaurant can be noisy, and as soon as you have finished your meal, you’ll be encouraged to settle up and leave. In other words, people don’t come here for the atmosphere or the service. Instead, the excellent and generous renditions of favorite Chinese dishes, especially the restaurant’s signature soup dumplings, are the draw. The dumplings are served in bamboo steamer baskets and each one holds a pork or crab meatball in a hot broth, all wrapped up in a doughy package. It may prove to be the most flavorful moment of your trip to New York.

Hotel Monaco is charming, boutique hotel nestled in the heart of historic Old Town on a lively block of King Street, walking distance to the waterfronts and lots of shopping and restaurants. A sumptuous lobby greets guests with rich decor of peacock blue walls, crimson accents and cozy seating nooks. Rooms are colorful, comfortable an roomy. As with most Kimpton hotels, this one has excellent service and personal perks such as complimentary morning coffee and tea service, free afternoon wine receptions, courtesy shuttle service to Reagan National Airport, Dive-in movie nights by the pool, and umbrellas for use on rainy days. This is also one of the few pet-friendly hotels in the area and dog owners can bring their pets to Yappy Hours on Tuesday and Thursday evenings. Guests can mingle with Alexandria locals and enjoy drinks with their canine companions on Jackson 20’s patio. TIP: Joining the Kimpton’s free InTouch loyalty program will get you complementary wi-fi access and $10 in credit to raid the mini bar GET THERE: 12 blocks from King Street metro (blue & yellow lines), free King Street trolley between station and hotel, a courtesy hotel shuttle service to Reagan National Airport

When traveling, I love to spend Saturday morning at the farmers market. There’s no better way to meet the locals and get to know the town culture. What produce do they love? What coffee do they sip? What’s the overall mood? One of the best Saturday morning farmers markets I’ve been to was in a giant park in Portland, Maine. The stalls were packed with reasonably priced, locally grown produce (of course, Maine blueberries were abundant). Despite the chilly morning temperatures, children played in a splash park and adults sipped locally made apple cider while listening to the various jazz musicians who had set up around the farmers market. Despite the crowds, parking was abundant (such a rarity!) as was the “Maine nice” that we found around the entire state.

When you hear the phrase, “summer in southern Arizona,” naturally your thoughts will tend toward heat and sunshine. Most wouldn’t think of mounds of fresh produce at a farmers’ market in the desert city of Tucson. But the arrival of the monsoon coincides with nature’s edible bounty, even here in the desert. The nearby Santa Cruz valley is actually one of the oldest continually-farmed regions in North America, with agriculture dating back four thousand years! Heirloom beans, squash, chiles, and tomatoes are still grown. The nearby higher elevation lands near Willcox are known for their orchards and even a few vineyards. Mesquite flour is made into cookies and tortillas. Prickly pear cactus is made into jams and frozen treats. All this is available throughout the week at various farmers’ markets around Tucson. The biggest one is on Sunday morning in the neo-colonial courtyards of St. Philip’s Plaza. And, if you’re curious, you’ll get language and cooking lessons, too. On a recent Sunday morning, my wife and I asked what some curious looking greens were. The answer? Purslane, or “verdolagas” in Spanish. They grow like weeds once the monsoon rains begin, and they contain more omega-3 fatty acids (think fish oil) than any other leafy plant. In a salad, or sautéed or stewed, they’re great. Who knew? Farmers’ markets are always a great place to get a vibe for a city—a cross section of people and produce. And, even in the desert, it is possible to shop and eat local.

“Ready!” I grip the bar tightly and lean forward. “Set!” I bend my knees and my heart starts racing. “HUP!” Before I have time for doubts, I take a deep breath, and jump off the platform. The next 40 seconds are a pure adrenaline rush as I soar through the air on a flying trapeze—a thrilling introduction to my first class at the satellite Trapeze School N.Y. in the Navy Yard district of Washington, D.C. I try to stay calm and oriented as my teacher yells instructions to swing my legs and lift my knees up to hang from the bar. This simple move is the foundation for many tricks that we six beginners in the class get to practice many times. By the end of the two-hour class, I’m already doing flips into the net and performing basic catches with one of the instructors. I start to wonder if my childhood dreams of joining the circus are possible after all. Class is over, I’m tired and my legs already ache from the climbs up the ridiculously long trapeze ladder (for me, the scariest part of the class). The school’s motto was right: “Forget about fear. Worry about addiction.” The school offers a variety of trapeze, aerial, trampoline, and acrobatics classes for adults and children.

Fans of real-deal sushi-bar Nipponese are united in huzzahs for Rokai, a sliver of a restaurant in a low-key, high-end section of the Cuauhtémoc quarter, north of the Reforma. Japanese-born chefs Hiroshi Kawahito and Daisuke Maeda change up the menu daily, depending on what’s available at markets (they make great use of some of the best fish that comes in from Baja California); regulars like to nosh omakase-style for a multiple-course tasting at the chef’s discretion. Quality sakes add a rosy glow to the precision with which every creation comes over the bar in this spare but fashionable setting. Reservations are recommended.