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Located in the charming harbor town of Portpatrick, Campbell’s is the perfect combination of welcoming informality and smart professionalism—with views of pleasure crafts and fishing boats, to boot. The best dishes highlight the fruits of the sea, whether it’s grilled langoustines or poached halibut, but also worth trying are the Thai green curry, the surf-and-turf with Galloway beef, and desserts like chocolate marquise and crème brûlée. Most ingredients come from the nearby coastline and surrounding farms, and bread is made daily on the premises. There’s also a decent wine list for pairing with your meal. Designed to mimic the seaside, the dining room is done up in shades of green, blue, and gold, with fresh flowers, candles, elegant glassware, and rustic cutlery lending the restaurant a homey yet elegant feel.

Even in a city with picturesque scenes around every corner, the Petit Champlain area, located along the waterfront in the Lower Town, stands out as an especially charming corner of Old Québec. The heart of the neighborhood is the Place Royale while its spine is Rue du Petit-Champlain. While the area claims the distinction of being North America’s oldest commercial district, for most of its history its buildings housed the offices of fur traders and stevedores lodged in the tenement apartments. Today, while it’s still a bustling neighborhood, the boutiques and bistros are what draw visitors to the cobblestoned lanes. In the summer, café tables spill out into the streets; in the winter, the neighborhood exudes a Québecois sense of coziness, especially at night after a snowfall, when every restaurant offers a tempting shelter from the cold.

Scandinavian Shave Ice is Hawaii Island’s most iconic purveyor of the frozen treat—though it’s not quite so big a deal on this island as some of the others. That said, Scandi’s is everything you want your shave ice shop to be. Dozens of flavors to choose from, including some with no added sugar? Check. Choice of ice cream for the center? Check. Snow cap and other, more exotic, toppings available (like li hing mui powder or mochi)? Check. Sassy servers? Check. The result is a carefully sculpted ball of colorful ice the size of your head (go for the small size!), with a soft but cohesive texture, flavors more subtle than they look, and the ice cream in the center rather than the bottom—meaning you get to it even quicker! Yum.

Linked to the historic Canal du Rhône à Sète, Aigues-Mortes in the Petite Camargue wetlands is a finely preserved medieval town. The outstanding crenellated 13th-century Constance Tower replaced an earlier one built by none other than Charlemagne. Visitors walking its ramparts are treated to views over the purple-blue lagoon waters where fishing and saltworks once dominated. The area is still known for its uniquely small Camargue bulls and horses.

This tiny joint on the Big Island serves what many consider the planet’s best poke (raw-fish salad). In fact, Yelp ranked it No. 1 among America’s top 100 places to eat in 2014. Go traditional with just salt, limu kohu (seaweed), and inamona (a roasted-candlenut relish) for toppings. Or opt for a more contemporary twist with anything from onions to avocado aioli, perhaps paired with a side of crisp kimchi cucumbers. Be forewarned: This casual spot runs on island time so don’t expect exact adherence to business hours.

Ready-to-wear and made-to-measure dresses, shirts, pants, and skirts are just some of the beautiful things you will find in this pretty store. Around the corner from the flashier names on the Via Camerelle and a short stroll down the hill, the family-owned Laboratorio Capri is where Michele and his mother design and sew for movie stars as well as Capri locals. Shop the sandals and bags, whisper-weight scarves printed with images of old Capri, and colorful jewelry that will remind you of the island.

Dubai’s Western and South Asian expats are only part of the city’s immigrant mix—Arab expats, many fleeing war-torn countries, thrive here too, and thriving restaurants like Samad Al Iraqi are the proof. Try to visit the location on Al Muraqqabat Road, which is one of the city’s most charming streets, where you’ll dine alongside Iraqis of all classes and backgrounds. This spot is worth a visit just for its grilled masgouf fish, a famous Iraqi dish dating all the way back to the Babylonian era. Craving meat? The kebabs and mixed dolmas (veggies stuffed with lamb and rice) are first-rate.

In the late 1700s, Cheshire Hall Plantation was one of the handful of cotton plantations operating on the Turks and Caicos Islands. During its heyday, the estate spanned thousands of acres, with hundreds of enslaved people working in the fields. Poor growing conditions led to its decline. Today, you can explore the scattered ruins, including remnants of the Great House, which was built from cut limestone. The $10 admission fee includes entrance to the site and a 30-minute guided tour. Cheshire Hall, conveniently located near downtown, offers the best-preserved colonial-era ruins on Providenciales, though Wade’s Green Plantation on North Caicos is the best preserved site of all the islands.

First opened as a public park in 1913, Bern’s Rose Garden now features 223 varieties of roses, 200 varieties of irises, and 28 varieties of rhododendrons. The park, perched at the top of a hill overlooking the Old Town (a UNESCO World Heritage Site in its entirety), also has a lovely casual restaurant and a fabulous European playground for children, complete with wooden play structures right out of a design museum. Given that one-third of the city is comprised of public parks and woods, it’s no surprise how wonderful this spot is for wiling away a few hours.

The “mountains” in this desert art installation are actually seven neon-colored totem poles made from stacked boulders. Renowned Swiss artist Ugo Rondinone describes his work here as a symbolic and physical midway point between the natural (the desert) and the artificial (Las Vegas, and, farther down the road, Los Angeles). The seven towers, standing from 30 to 35 feet tall, have captured the imagination of art lovers who make the 20-minute drive from the Las Vegas Strip by the hundreds every day. Be warned: Though the piece is clearly marked with signage off the I-15, there are no formal trails or pathways to get up to the towers once you park. Look out for snakes.

Turning off the highway into Volcano Village, the one-street town leading into Volcanoes National Park, first-time visitors might think they just made a right turn into Oregon. Cool, misty, and thick with giant ferns, this corner of the Big Island is a small but serious rain forest, nourished mightily by eons of volcanic soil and abundant rainfall. Well concealed down one of the quiet side streets, in their rainforest property, are the four one-bedroom cottages that make up the Volcano Rainforest Retreat. Each is unique—one has a sleeping loft, another is a perfect hexagon, a third has a full kitchen. But with their cedar walls and ample windows and shoji screens, they bring to mind Japanese country houses.


A stone pathway even leads to a Japanese soaking tub sitting outdoors beneath a moss-covered pergola. Interiors have eclectic, tasteful furnishings (leather club chairs, farmhouse-style quilts, handmade ceramics) that make each one feel like the guesthouse of a good friend. Though kids are allowed, and futons are available for extra guests, the setting is best for quiet twosomes, rather than families or boisterous groups of friends, as guest quarters are fairly close to one another. That, and in the hush of the rain forest, loud voices just won’t do.

Tucked behind a religious statue behind the Cathedral of the Holy Family in Tafuna, you’ll find one of the island’s several tia seu lupe, or star mounds. This example, three meters (almost 10 feet) high, is one of the best-preserved and most easily accessible of these mysterious configurations. Believed to have been used in a ritual by tribal chiefs to capture pigeons for an unknown rite, these stepped-stone structures are similar to others found throughout Polynesia.

Rustic luxury is the vibe at Amansala, where all accommodations are cabana-style. How rustic? Well, lights go out at 11 each night, after which time candles provide illumination. Ocean breezes do the work that is relegated to air-conditioners at less eco-conscious hotels. Rooms are decorated with locally sourced materials, including driftwood and stones. Candles and incense are in-room amenities. The idea, says owner Melissa Perlman, is for guests to feel that they’re staying at a friend’s home rather than an anonymous hotel where they’re just a room number. The hotel also hosts yoga retreats several times throughout the year, as well as detox cleanse packages and “Bikini Bootcamp” intensives for guests who want to get in shape.

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.

I first visited Wahoo’s Fish Taco in Denver and have been going back ever since. It seems much more appropriate that Wahoo’s, with its surfboarding theme, has a location in Hawaii. The location I frequented is in Ala Moana. Time permitting, I would get my food to go and sit at the Ala Moana Beach park for a picnic dinner. Wahoo’s has a good selection of burritos, salads, and tacos. A pitcher of margaritas or local beers are usually popular with a group as well! If you collect stickers, just ask at the counter and if they have any on hand, they will gift one to you.