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One traveler discovers a tradition even richer than the cuisine.

There’s a lot more to the San Fermín festival than the running of the bulls. In Pamplona, a skeptic learns what it’s really like to attend the biggest summer fiesta in Basque country.

First opened in 2004 in a former office building in the Central Business District, the Loews New Orleans Hotel completed a $4 million renovation in November 2014. The new look is modern, but with a nod to the Big Easy: rooms and suites (which, by the way, are among the most spacious in town) are done up in soothing blues and grays, and feature local photography on the walls, and the carpets have a wrought-iron fence motif. Large picture windows afford vistas of the city or the Mississippi River.

Run by the legendary Brennan family and named after the vivacious Adelaide Brennan, the hotel restaurant also got a makeover—think canary-yellow seats, teal tufted banquettes, and Andy Warhol–esque pop art of its namesake.

Of course there’s Mexican food, and New Mexican food, and great hearty breakfasts for pre-ski or pre-hike mornings, but the international culinary options in this funky little town may surprise visitors expecting little more than margaritas. (Those margaritas are pretty tasty too.)

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent David Farley on a spontaneous journey to Bolivia.

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent Scott Hocker on a spontaneous journey to Croatia.

Argentina at a Gallop

Hoi An’s iconic noodle dish was tangled in mystery for decades. Then writer David Farley came to town.

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent writer Jonathan Gold on a spontaneous journey to Prague with just 24 hours’ notice.

Some find this narrow, neon-lit French Quarter street appealing, others appalling. But it’s worth a stroll either way. It’s as if all the sins of mankind and then some were rounded up and corralled here—tawdry strip shows, cheap and potent drinks, the coveting of neighbors’ wives, petty larceny, big-ass beers, bad cover bands, and so on. (Bad cover bands were not technically mentioned in the Old Testament, but to many they’re the street’s most shameful sin.) The heart of the party zone stretches eight blocks from Iberville Street to St. Philip Street, with the thickest concentration of bars on the Iberville end. New Orleans allows alcoholic drinks outside, as long as they’re in plastic cups, or “go-cups"—meaning you can roam the length of Bourbon Street with your beer or hurricane in hand.

Founder’s Note: Beyond the Headlines

Occupying what were the Maison Blanche department store and the S.H. Kress & Co. five-and-dime, this stately hotel first opened its doors in 2000 after a $250 million overhaul of the then-shuttered Beaux-Arts buildings. After Katrina, the property underwent a second renovation, which included the expansion of its spa (now a sprawling 25,000 square feet) and the addition of a private entrance for Club level guests.

This is a Ritz-Carlton, so you can expect the same (high) level of service and luxury—think ornate furnishings, sumptuous linens, and a $3.5 million art collection—as at other properties within the brand. But the property isn’t just another Ritz. Bellmen wear seersucker, the bistro serves po’ boys, and there’s live jazz in the lounge (which also serves a mean Vesper).

Chef Tory McPhail was recently named James Beard’s Best Chef South and his forward-looking take on Creole classics keeps this New Orleans institution, which has launched the careers of the likes of Paul Prudhomme and Emeril Lagasse, current. Still, you can’t go wrong with classics like the turtle soup, gumbo, and bread pudding souffle. On Saturday and Sundays, there’s more pomp than usual, including a jazz trio that makes its way from table to table, but weekday lunches are nearly as iconic and, thanks to 25-cent martinis, a good reason to have a midday cocktail.

Founder’s note from the September/October 2011 print issue of AFAR Magazine.

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent comedian Jorma Taccone on a spontaneous journey to Nairobi, Kenya.