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Rurutu, located in the remote Austral Archipelago, is a magical land of migrating whales, abundant vegetation, limestone caves, and smiling faces. Accessed via Air Tahiti flights from Papeete five times per week, the car-free island is like no place else in French Polynesia. Comprised of a massive chunk of coral that was lifted up to form it, Rurutu has otherworldly topography – think sheer cliffs of pocked coral and giant caverns filled with ferns and stalactites. It is home to unique coral snorkeling, white-sand beaches, sacred marae, and fabulous biking (the island is very hilly). A continuous reef rings Rurutu (so there’s no lagoon), but despite the open ocean fronting it there are more beaches on Rurutu than most French Polynesia islands. The sand is also a bright white here and made from ground, bleached coral. Besides lounging on the beach, you can look for whales along the shores from roadside observation stations between July and October. Note, unlike the rest of French Polynesia, the Australs get really chilly between May and November and are best avoided during this time. From December to April you’ll find warmer temps, but it still isn’t hot enough for air-conditioning most of the year.

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent Rolf Potts on a spontaneous journey to Russia.

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.

In France, sparkling wine isn’t just for special occasions, it’s an everyday luxury. At least that’s what you’ll learn after a sampling of some 130 vintages at Dilettantes, a wine shop/bar specializing in bubbly. The tastings are hosted by one of 25 winemakers and take place in a gorgeous, 17th-century vaulted cellar. For a more in-depth course on pairing champagne at different moments of the meal, Dilettantes also offers a private oenology workshop (minimum 8 people) that will leave you well-versed in taste.

A magical alpine lake on the South Island is Lake Pukaki, crystal blue and turquoise. Oftentimes in the morning it’s so still it reflects a perfect mirror of the clouds. One of many glacial lakes in the area, the best view is from the southside, when on sunny days you can see all the way to Aoraki-Mount Cook, New Zealand‘s highest peak. Though not as developed as other lakes on the South Island, it’s worth at least stopping by for a photo or two on any road trip.

The cultural heart of Wellington is right downtown on Cuba Street. Here art galleries rub shoulders with boutique cafes, and there’s more than an enough independent bookshops, thrift stores, and quirky bars to keep even the most alternative traveler sated. If you’re looking to mingle with locals and really get a feel for what makes Wellington special, look no further than Cuba Street. And if you have a hectic New Zealand itinerary, Cuba Street is a great spot to just relax and enjoy the capital.

Cuevas del Indios (Indian Caves) of Arecibo offers a tidbit of ancient history of a lost people. An easy-to-find natural wonder, with a simple $2 fee for parking, this you won’t want to miss. Bring some sunscreen and your camera. Begin your hike up sharp and spiky cliff sides (no worries, I was able to do it all in sandals). Work your way up to the top of the cliff and enjoy the fantastic view below. Ocean spray from the massive waves breaking against the side of the rocks will cool you off with a little salty mist. Dare to look over the edge to see a landscape of arches and tunnels, burrowed below your feet. Climb down into the rocks to find a wonderful—and surprisingly well-preserved—variety of Taino Indian petroglyphs. A small climb down a somewhat sturdy, handmade ladder lands you at the base of the cave with stone carved images surrounding you. Now is your chance to experience some history. Wander through the smaller tunnels, and listen to the ocean making its way inside the cave with every massive wave crashing outside.

Hmmm, what to buy when you want a New Zealand souvenir that’s not a tacky plastic tiki or kiwi-shaped ashtray? That’s when you head to Pauanesia (pron. Pah-wah-nesia). Named after the Maori word for abalone, this High St. Auckland store has unique and interesting gifts. From authentic pounamu (greenstone) pendants that you traditionally gift to friends (never buy one for yourself) through to tea towels with 1970s motifs on them, you can be sure no one else will have what you’ve brought when you get back home.

A famed food critic follows the legendary xiao long bao on its global route from Taiwan to California.

Bungee jumping was invented in New Zealand, so if you’re going to try it anywhere in the world, shouldn’t it be at the world’s first commercial bungee site? With a 140-foot drop from an old bridge straddling a beautiful turquoise river, the location outside of Queenstown couldn’t be more perfect. In fact, its beauty might even distract from what lies ahead. Choosing between jumping tandem or solo, bobbing above the water, touching it, or even getting dunked, the Kawarau Bridge has every option available—though maybe none for the faint of heart. In the few minutes I watched dozens of people fling themselves off the platform, from kids to parents, everyone had a big smile on their face when finished.

Lake Matheson is a magical little spot near Fox Glacier. It’s a great place to take a walk at sunset, before enjoying dinner and some local wine at the Matheson Cafe. On a clear day, the reflection in the lake proudly displays all the reasons to be in love with the Westland National Park region of New Zealand, while the rugged peaks of Mount Tasman and Mount Cook rise out of the mountain range. This is glacier country at its best. The lack of wind—the lake is set within the dense rain forest—means Lake Matheson’s surface is calm and still. The reflection photo opportunities have made this lake the most photographed body of water in New Zealand (and that is saying something). The walk around the lake takes about an hour and a half, and you have three viewing platforms offering exceptional perspectives along the way. Hit the trail just before sunset and have a glass of Otago Pinot Noir at the cafe while you watch the sun set over those mountains. The cafe opens at 5:30 p.m. and I’d suggest the mushroom risotto.

On a trip with a young traveler in tow, a writer reflects on her first Venice adventure—and how it changed her life.

AFAR chose a destination at random—by literally spinning a globe—and sent Meghan Daum on a spontaneous journey to Peru.

There’s no better place to stop and smell the roses (and the dahlias and the begonias) than Christchurch Botanic Gardens. From New Regent Street, hop on the renovated tram, which stops near the entrance to the 80-plus acres of majestic oaks, water gardens, and rose beds. Rolleston Ave. and Worcester Blvd. This appeared in the January/February 2015 issue.