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At Salt Water Farm, students return to the land—and the sea—to learn forage, fillet, and feast.

Telluride’s literary mecca, this beloved store is stacked with more than 10,000 books at any given time. The expertly curated regional books section is a fount of the Wild West’s writing prowess, with illustrative tomes on the town’s lurid backstory (you’ll want to peruse Tomboy Bride: A Woman’s Personal Account of Life in Mining Camps of the West). When your eyelids get heavy, head to the tiny coffee bar—squirreled away at the back of the shop—for a caffeine jolt to bolster an afternoon of reading.

If you love the top fashion brands but your budget doesn’t, visit one of the many Dod stores in Brussels. These shops carry fashion brands from around North America and Europe and range from Valentino ball gowns to Esprit t-shirts. The fashions are end of line clearance items for 30-75% off the regular ticket price. You can find some great deals on beautiful garments. Dod has separate stores for men’s, women’s and children’s clothing, as well as shoes, luggage and handbags, sporting goods and household items. There are stores scattered around Brussels but my favourite is the original Woman’s Dod on Chaussée de Louvain. It’s 5 levels of bargain goodness with a whole floor of shoes in the basement. Best of all, prices are marked down even more during the bi-annual sales in August and January; just be prepared to stand in long lines at the registers.

“Straight ahead for 42 Miles” said the automated, slightly pitchy, woman’s voice. My road trip buddy and I looked at each other as if to check what we’d just heard. Sure enough though, the GPS was right. Straight as a die, but much, much more interesting with stops on the way to check out a coyote crossing the road, a sign marking a public phone that wasn’t there, and the remnants of some poor animal carcass that didn’t quite beat the vehicles before us.

La Casa de La Abuela is a Oaxaca mainstay, on the corner between the Zocalo and the Alameda, Oaxaca’s two central squares. Find the entrance on Hidalgo street, and climb the steps up to the second floor. As soon as you enter you’ll see a big clay comal and a woman making fresh tortillas, the sign that this is the real deal: authentic Oaxacan food. They serve local specialties including four kinds of mole (almendrado, coloradito, amarillo and mole negro). Choose a spot by the window to enjoy your meal while you watch the action in the square below.

We become so small when entering a place of worship, this local woman especially as she made her way to the entrance of the Cathedral of San Gervasio in Valladolid. It wasn’t Sunday. I’m sure of it because Sundays in Mexican city centers are usually much busier with families wandering around the city and going to mass. On this particular day there were just a few folks going about their usual routine.

OK, America has plenty of beautiful little mountain towns. I just happened to catch this one on a quiet, low-season day and I was utterly charmed. The secondhand bookshop was a thing of joy - run by a woman who knew her Dorothy Parker from her Dorothy L Sayers - and the Dripolator coffee shop, above, had a great vibe, with its beaten up sofas and community notices pinned all over the walls. And then there’s the mountain views, and the clear air. If you’ve had a big night out in Asheville, I can’t think of a better place to deal with your hangover.

The Dassenech are a nomadic tribe that live in the region where Ethiopia borders Kenya and Sudan. We visited one village situated along one of the banks of the Omo River. Getting there was not easy though. We started with a long, bumpy ride over dusty, unpaved road. At the riverbank, we crossed to the other side in very simple, hand hewn dugout canoes. We then trudged across a treeless sandy plain where the wind was blowing so hard I could barely see. I think I still have dust and sand in trapped crevices I never knew my body has. The village itself was not attractive at all – clusters of small flimsy domed huts fashioned from tree limbs and lined with corrugated tin dotted the desert floor. To compound the ugliness of it all, trash was flying about everywhere. The one bright spot in the harsh Dassanech world are the women who are known for wearing head pieces fashioned from bottle caps and any other small metal items that can be strung up. I saw zipper pulls, padlocks and even ball chains adorning many a woman’s head. Considering what little they have, I admire the Dassanech women for being so creative in coming up with ways to beautify themselves. Just as we were about to leave, I caught sight of this young girl whose face captivated me. It took me doing some silly antics to get her to warm up to me but in the end, her smiling eyes and toothy grin melted my heart. Surrounded by rubble, I found a small ray of loveliness.

For authentic souvenirs from all over the world, head to the West Side Bazaar. The incubator on the Grant Street Corridor supports refugees, immigrants, and low-income entrepreneurs on their path to becoming successful business owners, providing them space to pursue their dreams. Start in the stalls, where you’ll find everything from Rwandan peace baskets and Burmese puppets to Sudanese jewelry and macramé art by an Iraqi woman named Nadeen Yousef. Afterward, refuel with your choice of Mexican cuisine, Asian snacks, Ethiopian fare, halal food, and more.

An indigenous-owned art gallery located at the busy junction of the Arnhem and Stuart Highways a half hour outside Darwin, The Didgeridoo Hut prides itself on selling genuine Aboriginal artwork from remote Top End communities, with whom the owners Dennis and Janis have personal relationships. In fact artists often come to the shop to demonstrate their painting and didgeridoo making skills and to share their stories with visitors. The works on display are high-quality and overwhelming; thankfully, the friendly staff are very knowledgeable about the artists and their symbolism—spiral circles represent waterholes and tool imagery usually stands for a man or woman. The prices are fair, but some have a little bargaining room built in.

Visiting Beyt Design in Cambridge was inspirational. Their award winning social enterprise uses architectural salvage from conflict zones in the Near East destroyed by violence and up cycles them into one of a kind home decor. Tiles from 18th century mansions, reclaimed wrought iron gates, window frames & antique textiles make their way into tables, lamps and shades in this unique shop. In addition, the labor they employ is from diverse, disadvantaged backgrounds. When I visited, I spoke with a woman working on a lampshade, clearly proud of her project and the opportunity the owners had given her. Their mission to ‘Restore the Unseen Beauty of the Broken” resonates in each and every piece.

One of Cancun’s newest restaurants, Julia Mia (My Julia) serves Mexican nouvelle cuisine, with traditional favorites at affordable prices. This downtown restaurant is definitely worth a trip from the Hotel Zone. Julia Mia reflects the belief of sisters Lupita and Irma Chavez that: “A woman is not afraid of anything or anyone. She enjoys life and her traditional Mexican drink, tequila, as well as the best selection of recipes from Mexico that integrate tastes and smells, always respecting and honoring each ingredient.” The menu features favorites with a twist, such as sea bass tacos, blue crab taquitos, roast corn soup, and salmon and garlic octopus fettuccine. For dessert, try the chocolate volcano or the chocolate truffles with mole and churros. On Fridays, Julia Mia features live Mariachi music, and in September, a special menu and events celebrate Mexican Independence.

Just down the street from where we stayed in Oaxaca there was a mezcal bar called Mezcaloteca. It was staffed by one woman, very studiously sharing her love of mezcal. She poured us a tasting of three different mezcals into the little gourd cups: an espadin, a madrecuixe, and a tobala—all different agave plants, different producers. She told us how to warm up our mouths with the spirit, how to rub a little bit between our fingers to get the aromas. She didn’t need to tell us how to drink it; that we knew. Reforma No. 506, Col. Centro, Oaxaca de Juárez, C.P. 68000

Evidently Lord Stow’s Bakery is a Macau-based chain with a handful of locations in Asia, but we weren’t aware of that as we found it while strolling through Seoul on a frigid February morning. We simply saw the cute-as-a-button, closet-sized space with tarts in the window and went in, seeking heat and a bite to eat. The one worker (I don’t think there’s room for more) had just pulled these eggy little delights out of the oven. It was the perfect time to eat them. Warming, subtly sweet, and served with a friendly welcome, they—and the young woman who made them—were a simple yet memorable part of our super-quick visit to Seoul. The address: Kim’s Pass Co Dae Hyun 60-8 Dong Suo Dae Mung, Seoul