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Housed on a 1,100-foot stretch of beachfront, Grace Bay Club is as stylishly current as it was in 1993, when it became the first luxury hotel to open on the then nearly empty sands of Grace Bay. From its original 21 rooms, the upscale property has grown to 82 suites, each of which features ocean views, a private veranda or patio, and chic interiors by renowned designer Thom Felicia. Guests can also look forward to superior service, including a personal concierge available day or night via a provided cell phone.

When hunger strikes, there’s the oceanfront Infiniti Restaurant & Raw Bar, which boasts sea-to-table fare and the longest bar in the Caribbean, as well as several other family-friendly venues, including The Grill. If it’s pampering you seek, make time to visit the spacious Anani Spa, where you’ll find six treatment rooms, including one just for couples. A spa tent is also available for beachfront massages.

The sea has always played a big part in the lives of the people of Gothenburg. When you want to relax from city life this is where you go. A tram ticket will take you all the way out into the southern archipelago to enjoy the harsh beauty of the gray granite cliffs. Pack your swim gear and a book and head to an island such as Vrångö, Brännö, Styrsö, or Vargö. Take a walk to find your own private cliff or bay and then dive into the sea. It might be cold, but the cliffs are perfect for warming up against with their smooth, round shapes and ability to keep the heat from the sun. For a Swede, the combination of sea, cliffs, and solitude is bliss. Hungry? Bring a picnic or visit a restaurant like Brännö Värdshus or Vrångö Värdshus.

Even though you may have never been here before, Montréal’s Place St-Louis, in the Plateau neighborhood off of rue St-Denis, will probably look familiar thanks to the many tourism posters and guidebook covers that display its image. The graystone Victorian row houses, with details in pink, purple, and other eye-popping hues, embody a certain Montréal attitude—grounded in history yet with a playful, contemporary edge. The square was laid out in 1876 and has been described as one of Montréal’s most beautiful, with a European elegance thanks to its tree-lined paths and fountain. Students of poetry may want to pay homage to Émile Nelligan. A monument to the beloved Québecois writer sits in the southeast corner of the square near the house on avenue Laval where he once lived.

Founded in 2004, Cerveza Minerva is one of Mexico’s original—and biggest—independent craft breweries. Sample the spot’s regular brews along with a variety of special editions in its tasting room, where a glass wall offers views into the factory where the beer is produced. There’s also a full food menu to complement what’s on tap.

For a satisfying mid-afternoon snack, seek out one of the city’s ubiquitous walk-up counters. Nni Franco U’ Vastiddaru is typical, serving classic street food like arancini (stuffed rice balls) and panelle. The latter is a Palermo specialty: These chunky, chiplike fritters made of chickpea flour are simple yet addictively delicious, with a spritz of Sicilian lemon.

There’s a different way to see the African wildlife in their natural habitat than a safari and it’s called Boulder Beach. We ventured to the Eastern side of the Peninsula (Indian Ocean) to meet and spend time with the locals, Cape Town‘s penguin colony. Following the wooden boardwalks, you gain access to Foxy Beach, a sheltered cove with soft white sand, crystal clear water, massive granite boulders, and birds in butler-style tailcoats. Its nothing short of an Instagram-worthy photo op but I recommend climbing atop a boulder and spending time to take it all in. It’s impossible to capture how majestic this destination truly is.

When I stepped into the grand lobby of Québec’s Le Château Montebello, I felt like I was entering Paul Bunyan’s living room. Giant timbers braced a three-story-high ceiling, and a massive fireplace in the center radiated warmth in all directions. After checking in, I joined the guests gathered around the six-sided hearth and sank into a leather club chair. I spent the rest of the day by the fire, sipping hot toddies and napping, as the comfort of the crackling flames sent me and the other fireside dozers snuggling deeper into our cushions. I had come to ski some of the 65,000 acres of wooded backcountry that neighbor the resort, but the château was so welcoming, I found it hard to leave.


Often described as the world’s largest log cabin, the lodge and two other main buildings were constructed in 1930 from 10,000 red cedar logs and 500,000 handmade wooden shingles. The houses and the vast surrounding forests were long owned by the politically prominent Papineau family, and until 1970, the estate remained a private nature retreat for Canada’s upper class. As I walked through the château’s halls, the intricately carved banisters and exposed beams reminded me of the great western lodges in the U.S. national parks—only without any grumpy tourists demanding to know where the animals are.

In the guest rooms, deluxe amenities such as flat-screen TVs and rain-dome showerheads upstaged anything found in Yellowstone or Yosemite. Despite the modern perks, rawhide lampshades and other rustic details helped my suite retain its frontier appeal. When I got up to pull the plaid drapes closed that night, I watched a horse-drawn sleigh pass by, glowing in the moonlight against the dark ribbon of the frozen Ottawa River.

Without fresh snow to ski the next morning, I was left to explore the lodge’s other activities. I opted out of getting scrubbed with maple sugar at the spa or unsuccessfully flirting with French-Canadian women by the fire, and instead devoted the day to learning the inscrutable rules of curling. The château has an indoor ice rink dedicated to the sport, a national favorite that’s best described as a combination of shuffleboard and falling down a lot. My instructor was Henri, a kindly sexagenarian who, like many in Québec’s western Outaouais region, seemed more comfortable speaking French than English. As it turns out, kindly reassurance sounds the same in either language. But as my backside repeatedly hit the ice, Henri’s patient polyglot insistence that I was doing “une belle job” grew progressively less convincing.

After my rough-and-tumble day, I dined in the white-tablecloth Aux Chantignoles restaurant. Québecois cuisine dominates the menu, and I followed a dinner of tender venison osso buco with a slice of Québec’s famously sweet and jiggly sugar pie—think pecan pie sans pecans. Snow fell just in time for me to ski through the nearby forest on my last day. I spent a long afternoon there, gliding among stands of birch, pine, and spruce in the rolling Laurentian Highlands. Now and again, I paused to admire one of the countless frozen lakes, their smooth surfaces dotted with tracks left by moose and white-tailed deer. I skied in the silent wilderness until just after sunset. As the scent of a wood fire began to tickle my nose, I grew eager to cozy up by the hearth again. I turned back toward the château’s stone chimney, its rising plume of smoke signaling for my return.
This appeared in the November/December 2010 issue.

There are few places where you can better learn about the beauty and complexity of desert ecology than the Desert Botanical Garden, not far from downtown Phoenix. Check out the Desert Discovery Loop Trail for a look at local flora, go for a flashlight tour or cooking class (using plants found in the region, of course), or catch one of the musical performances that are part of the garden’s concert series. Make a point to visit the Desert Terrace Garden for the best views of the surrounding buttes and desert.

This local institution has (miraculously) survived Mykonos’s transformation from 1970s boho-gay hideaway to glitzy playground of oligarchs and supermodels. There’s no website, no phone, not even a sign outside the tiny shack above Agios Sostis Beach, but the secret is out. Go early as the lunch queue starts forming long before the place opens around 12:30 p.m. Savor a free glass of rosé and conversations with strangers while you wait for a table, the aroma of pork chops sizzling on the grill stoking your hunger. (Mykonos cognoscenti get their teenagers or nannies to wait in line while they go for a swim.) Octopus, prawns, chicken, and chops are chargrilled to perfection, accompanied with zingy salads and baked feta, eggplant, and potatoes. Kiki’s closes when the food runs out, between 5 p.m. and 7 p.m.

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.

The three-towered, blue-and-green glass property is remarkable for its connecting, undulating tiered design inspired by terraced Balinese rice paddies and the elevated gardens that seem to hang from above. Designed by Singapore starchitects WOHA, the Parkroyal on Pickering is almost an extension of the green space in front of it—Hong Lim Park—with 160,000 square feet of gardens, reflecting pools, waterfalls, planter terraces, and vertical landscaping. Eco-mindfulness is evident elsewhere: photo sensors monitor light usage, showers are low-flow, sheets are changed on alternate days (less frequently if requested), and rooms have refillable glass water bottles. The property’s most striking space is the fifth-floor wellness area, where cabanas are shaped like giant bird cages, and the infinity pool looks out above the park with a view of the shophouses across the way. The generally compact rooms espouse the Scandinavian-sleek look.

Just southwest of Astoria, Fort Clatsop replicates the encampment built by Lewis and Clark’s Corps of Discovery soon after they reached the Pacific. From December 1805 to March 1806, they hunted and gathered food, distilled salt, traded with the local tribes and documented their surroundings. The center includes the log fort (staffed by costumed rangers), an exhibit hall, a gift shop and films, plus trailheads for the Fort to Sea Trail and the Netul River Trail.

Tango is as essential to Buenos Aires as pizza is to Naples, so the Anselmo Hotel is a perfect fit for the city, with its location in the heart of the San Telmo neighborhood—known for spontaneous street dancing—in a 1906 mansion once belonging to tango composer Anselmo Asiento. The hotel is perched on Plaza Dorrego, a lively public space surrounded by cafes and shops which especially gets going on Sunday, when the San Telmo antique fair and flea market spills into the street, attracting shoppers, musicians, and revelers. Clean-lined, modern furniture and black-and-white photographs of Buenos Aires compliment the building’s original wooden shutters and wrought-iron balconies. Sip a glass of Malbec in the cozy wood interior of the Acacia bar and restaurant, or take it outside into the calm inner courtyard. A small gym is available if you haven’t gotten in enough steps wandering the neighborhood’s cobblestone streets or tango dancing the night away.

Formerly the headquarters of the U.S. District Court in these parts, the low-slung brick building on the central waterfront now houses the island’s best handicrafts display. The maze features 150 artisans selling everything from handmade dolls and quilts to note cards and wooden serving items. There are also food vendors on site.

A Porfirian-era mansion provides the setting for Blanco Colima: a concept- and genre-defying project that features multiple spaces for eating, each with a different name and type of food. The main area, Blanco Colima, serves breakfast, lunch, and cocktails. It’s designed to be a welcoming home away from home. Other options include Belafonte—an oyster bar run by Chef Hiroshi Kawahito—and Lázaro, a fine dining area that features fresh local ingredients. Beyond the exceptional food, Blanco Colima is also a cultural center of sorts. The space screens films, exhibits the work of emerging artists, and hosts live music performances. Once you’re seated, you might find it hard to leave!