Search results for

With all of Orlando’s man-made attractions, it’s refreshing to get deep into nature at this wonderful state park, located north of downtown and the theme-park corridor. Spread across 7,000 acres of pristine central Florida forest, the park centers around the headwaters of the Wekiwa River, a beautiful, blue-and-green-hued spring with a roped-off area that’s safe for swimming (alligators do dwell in the main river). Rent a kayak or canoe at the park and paddle from the spring into the river, where you can spot turtles and alligators sitting on the banks. If you’re seeking a more primitive experience, you can also book one of the park’s spacious campsites, some of which come with hookups for electricity and water.

So you want to drive through a tree? Well, you’ve got options. (At least for now. Since no new drive-through trees will be created any time soon, for obvious environmental reasons, the existing ones are maybe the last of their kind.) There are actually three trees in the vicinity of Redwood National and State Parks whose trunks are wide enough to accommodate a car. The Chandelier Tree, at the Drive-Thru Tree Park, may be the most well-known and most frequently photographed; pay your $5 and get behind the wheel. The Tour Thru Tree, near Klamath, is the other tree with a human-constructed tunnel. The only organically occurring drive-through tree in the area is the Shrine Tree in Myers Flat, on Avenue of the Giants. The opening in this tree was primarily nature-created—though at this point it’s held together with some human help. Shrine also has a fallen tree with a drive-up ramp, a stump you can walk through, and a couple of playhouses carved from redwoods.

The woodblock prints from ukiyo-e artist Hokusai first introduced me to Japan’s most iconic volcano. Between 1826 and 1833, Hokusai traveled to many provinces in Japan to see Mount Fuji from different vantage points as represented in his works Great Wave off Kanagawa, Watermill at Onden, and Nihonbashi bridge in Edo in order to produce the famous “36 views of Mount Fuji” series. I have always loved these graphic prints and was determined to get at least one view of this magnetic mountain in my lifetime. During my stay at Hoshinoya Fuji, I was able to get the same view that Hokusai etched almost two centuries ago in print number #35 of the series: Mount Fuji reflected in Lake Kawaguchi.

Set northeast of Lake Kawaguchi, Hoshino Fuji is the destination for those interested in “glamping” and exploring Japan’s natural side. Barely a year old, the resort rises like concrete tree houses among the red pine forest. Upon check-in you’ll be given a backpack with headlight, water bottle, snacks and portable blanket to urge you on for nearby adventures. Around the resort, camping elements are incorporated with hammocks between the pines, open camp-fires at the Cloud Terrace, and portable in-room coffee kit. Each cabin has a plush bed, minimal furniture and a balcony for panoramic views of the lake and Mount Fuji.

You can “rough it” with nature outside, but I couldn’t resist pampering myself with the amenities provided by the resort. My perfect morning started with a bath scented with hinoki and flowers before a wholesome breakfast with fresh baked bread on my private balcony. During the day you can go out for a hike or kayak or learn how to smoke food from one of the members of staff. In the evening, learn how to cook over an open fire from the chefs before you enjoy the best dinner with local meat and vegetables. The staff at Hoshinoya Fuji thought of all the details that would create a great camping trip and combined it with the attentiveness of a luxury hotel to create a truly unforgettable experience. A work of art led me here and I can’t wait to return and experience this level of hospitality again.

The MacRitchie Reservoir is one of four reservoirs in the heart of Singapore at the Central Catchment Nature Reserve, where the surrounding forests are protected as national parks to ensure the quality of the water. Though unfortunately not accessible to the public, the ruins of a once-massive Shinto shrine built by the Japanese during their World War II occupation of Singapore are hidden in the overgrown, off-trail jungle near the northwestern corner of the reservoir. There is more to Singapore than meets the eye.

Mount Royal Park starts at the edge of the city just beyond the McGill campus and runs alongside neighborhoods like Plateau before rising to the top of 764-foot-tall Mount Royal (Mont Réal), the hill that gives the city its name. The twisting roads and paths of this crown jewel of Montréal’s park system were initially laid out by Frederick Law Olmsted, who also designed New York’s Central Park. While Olmsted’s plan was not followed in all its details, the final result was true to his vision of a woody park that takes advantage of the site’s hilly topography. There are two belvederes with views of the city skyline and the St. Lawrence River, and one of Montréal’s iconic landmarks, a 103-foot-high cross, sits at its northern end. The park is most popular in summer, but residents flock here in every season, to enjoy the colorful foliage in the fall and the cross-country ski trails and toboggan runs in the winter.

The Trift Bridge is the longest pedestrian-only suspension bridge in the Swiss Alps, spanning 170 meters (560 ft) at a height of 100 meters (330 ft) but when we got to it somehow it looked longer and higher. As afraid as I was I did not hike all the way there to quit so on the bridge I went. My family did not seem to share my fear, taking off ahead of me on the bridge. The bridge offers a superb view of the Trift Glacier melting into the Triftsee (the lake formed by the glacier’s melt water). From here you can go higher on the mountain but we did not have the strength or the time to continue on.

Heading to Glasgow’s Necropolis at sundown in winter is not for the faint of heart. Cross the bridge by the cathedral and enter the cemetery known as the ‘City of the Dead.’ Established in 1831, back when the city was one of the stateliest in Europe, Glasgow’s most eminent Victorian names were laid to rest here. Climbing the stairs up and around the necropolis not only serves to showcase the impressive grave sites, but is an ideal vantage point from which to get a bird’s eye view of the city. Some 50,000 people are slumbering beneath the earth’s surface, housed in about 3,500 tombs, some of which were designed by renowned architects like Alexander ‘Greek’ Thomson and David Hamilton. Come armed with a camera and sketchbook as it’s an ideal spot to get the creative juices flowing.

Most London hotels can’t claim to have a bowling alley in the basement. But then Ham Yard isn’t most hotels. The new address, opened in June 2014, also features a 190-seat cinema with Dolby surround sound, a spa with its own Hypoxic Studio for high-altitude training, a roof terrace with a full vegetable garden, and a karaoke bar curated by Lucky Voice. Ham Yard is the eighth opening for Firmdale Hotels, the chain run by husband-and-wife team Tim and Kit Kemp. Tim brings business brains to the partnership, while Kit handles the interior design. It’s this aspect for which the brand is best known, and Ham Yard is the most exuberant of Kit’s colorful creations. Kit has filled the space with her trademark mismatched fabrics and art works sourced from the likes of Shilo Engelbrecht. Curious touches, such as light installations from cult-creator Gods Own Junkyard, lend the hotel an idiosyncratic edge. The unusual name derives from the Soho square in which the hotel stands. Ham Yard’s emergence has not only created London’s hottest new opening, but also a courtyard space where locals come to sit and linger at the hotel’s partner shops, including Brazilian beachwear brand Frescobol Carioca and a Press London juice bar.

Museum cafes are often depressing affairs, white formica boxes where you grab a curling sandwich on your way to the next piece of tourism. But the main cafe’s trio of rooms are nothing like that. Designed, respectively, by William Morris, Henry Cole, and Edward Poynter in glorious Victorian excess, were the first museum cafe in the world, and they are today a rare example of a museum restaurant where you would be happy to spend time, revelling in the gorgeous details and stained glass windows. And the food’s pretty good too; you can get all sorts of hot and cold meals, and it’s a great stop for lunch or cakes, if you’re doing the museum trail at South Kensington.

Some of the most intriguing cocktails in London can be found at Jason Atherton’s bars in Soho: Social Eating House, Pollen Street Social, and the newly opened Newman Street Tavern. That’s thanks to Gareth Evans, officially crowned the best bartender in the UK in 2013, who likes a drink that will make you smile even as it makes you a bit tipsy. Hence the thermonuclear daiquiri, one of the brightest and most potent drinks on the menu at SEH, which has also become one of the hottest places to drink in London. I also love the Nightwatchman—a drink inspired by the sport of cricket, which comes complete with its own cricket bat-stirrer—and the Cereal Killer, which comes in an old-fashioned milk bottle. You cannot help but have a good time here.

You can only drink two martinis at the hotel bar at Dukes Hotel in Mayfair. The bartenders won’t serve you any more—that’s how potent they are. This is the place to come in London if you secretly wish you were a member of a gentlemen’s club, and if you want a martini made with all the fanfare—the drinks trolley brought to your table, the bottle, straight from the freezer, shaken as you sit and watch. There are cheaper places to drink, that’s for sure, but do they have green leather armchairs and white-jacketed bartenders and portraits of distinguished 19th-century gentlemen looking at you approvingly from the walls? There’s also a cognac and cigar garden.

Columbia Road is London’s main flower market. On Sundays, it’s totally filled with flowers. It’s an amazing place. —Sophie Howarth Columbia Road Sundays, 8 a.m.–3 p.m. This story appeared in the Premier 2009 issue.

Hiking the French Valley is part of the W-trek through Patagonia’s Torres del Paine National Park. It’s about 16 mi round-trip from Refugio Paine Grande to the French Valley Mirador, to see the French Glacier and the Paine Massif as close as you can get. The trail is diverse and only reaches a steep height at the last 5.5 km on the way there. You begin at Lago Pehoe and take grassy paths through the forested valley, on an terrain that the locals call “Patagonia flat,” i.e. an undulating up and down of several feet. On the way you’ll see tiny magenta--and edible--berries that taste just like apples; you’ll cross small glacial streams where you can fill up your water bottle with fresh, wild water. You’ll trek right by the Cuernos, or the “Horns,” another well-known set of peaks in Torres del Paine. Over the French River you go as you get deeper into the valley, over wobbly rope bridges. The final 5.5 km to the French Valley Mirador has you balancing on thousands of loose boulders on your way up. The very top of the trek feels like being in the middle of a Patagonian fishbowl: Paine Massif to your left, French Glacier in front, the Aleta de Tiburon (the Shark’s Fin) and the Cuernos to the right, and turquoise Lago Pehoe behind you.

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.

Since it was built back in 1976, the CN Tower has topped the must-visit list of most Toronto tourists. Until recently, a visit was pretty standard; hop in elevator, shoot up to the observation deck, and ogle the city from a hawk’s vantage point. While this was certainly fine and enjoyable, the since-developed EdgeWalk experience has ramped up the Tower’s bucket-list potential. Thrill-seekers can now do a hands-free, breezy circumnavigation of the tower’s roof, up at 1,168 feet. And, yes, they do perform sky-high weddings complete with elasticized rings and special attire for the big day.