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Combining the service of the Four Seasons, which took over the property in 2012, with a Santa Fe vibe—albeit a contemporary take on Southwestern style—this hotel manages to feel luxurious without sacrificing authenticity. Its location, about 10 miles outside Santa Fe, also gives guests a true taste of the high desert—plus views of the Jemez and Sangre de Cristo Mountains and the Rio Grande River valley—while still granting easy access to downtown (via a complimentary shuttle, if you so desire). The Four Seasons invested over $1.1 million in landscaping improvements, the Monte Vista Terrace, and other additional offerings like the Adventure Center and Chef’s Table. Originally a privately owned ranch, the property dates back to the early 1900s. Previous owners include Guestward Ho! authors Barbara and Bill Hooton (then, the estate was known as Rancho del Monte) and, between 1968 and 1992, Betty Egan, who gave the property its current name (a reflection of Santa Fe’s tagline: The Land of Enchantment). John Wayne and Jimmy Stewart are just two of its legendary guests.

Changuu Island, also known as Prison Island, is about a 30-minute boat ride from Stone Town. The water around the island is crystal-clear and cerulean blue, which makes snorkeling here hard to resist, but a visit also lets you gain an understanding of a grim period of Zanzibar history. In 1860, the small island was used as a prison for disobedient slaves. By 1893, construction of an actual prison complex was completed, but instead of housing prisoners, it was used to quarantine yellow fever cases. Nowadays, the island is home to some endangered Aldabra giant tortoises, given to the island in 1919 by the British governor of the Seychelles. Some of those original tortoises are supposedly still alive here to this day!

The Zizkov TV tower was built in the latter half of the 1980s and there were rumors that the Soviets built the tower to block out radio transmissions from the West. Locals have hated the 700-foot high structure since day one, although public resentment seems to be waining a bit. Public art has also softened the outlook—ten of sculptor David Černý’s giant babies crawl up the exterior. Today, the futuristic tower is best for getting a sky-high view of the city of hundred spires from the viewing platform.

The beloved Cambodian breakfast dish of nom banh chok is a love-it-or-hate-it dish for most foreigners, who would probably prefer to have this cold to luke-warm noodle dish served hot. The process of making these rice noodles is depicted in bas reliefs on Angkor temples, suggesting that the dish dates back to the Khmer Empire and traveled to Thailand at the end of the Angkorian era. In Thailand, there is a similar noodle dish called kanom jeen. In Siem Reap it’s typically served at street-side stalls and by roaming women vendors who carry baskets of ingredients on their shoulders. Like anything in Cambodia, you can expect to find an array of versions but a favorite comes with a yellow kroeung curry, a mound of thinly sliced banana blossoms, pickled cucumber, and fresh fragrant green herbs.

When Downtown’s Big Ditch opened in a converted garage in 2014, it helped turn a formerly sterile area into a hot spot for locals. Today, it continues to draw fans with a range of pints brewed in-house, plus a two-level taproom with seating for 200 and garage doors that open onto the sidewalks. Anywhere from six to 12 beers are on tap at a given time, with options ranging from IPAs and saisons to stouts and ales. If it’s available, be sure to try the Make Me Want to Stout—a coffee-and-cream brew that’s one of Big Ditch’s most popular offerings.

If you find yourself at Founding Fathers Pub, you should know it’s going to be a late night. Open since 1968, the hole-in-the-wall tavern is a local favorite, but generally flies under the radar of travelers visiting the area. It’s the type of no-frills spot where you meet old friends to catch up, or get quizzed on Buffalo’s rich history by owner and former social studies teacher Mike Driscoll, who decked out the space in presidential memorabilia. Grab a seat at the bar and strike up conversation, then order a pint or two to pair with the free popcorn and nachos served nightly.

Rebuilt after a devastating earthquake in 1931, the relaxed port city of Napier is New Zealand’s capital of art deco design and architecture. Nestled amidst the heritage shopfronts of its compact downtown area is one of the country’s most interesting restaurants, proving there is plenty of culinary excellence outside of New Zealand’s big cities. Bistronomy showcases seasonal ingredients in its compact and stylish dining room—produce is often grown or foraged locally, and creatively harnessed for plates including fish tartare with sorrel and apple, or confit lime with shortbread, orange curd and mint. The drinks list presents excellent varietals from the nearby Hawkes Bay wine region, and Bistronomy’s NZ$75 chef’s choice menu of six courses is great value.

Also known as the High Test Deli & Sweet Shop, this local standby—situated just over the state line in Bryson City, North Carolina—has fueled hikers, area residents, and tourists for more than a decade. The signature Cuban is a best seller, but every sandwich is customizable, with more than a dozen bread varieties, nearly as many cheeses, and all the proteins you’d expect from a top-notch deli. Still, you wouldn’t be blamed for skipping the meats altogether and heading straight for the “frozen sandwich” section, where you can choose from a creative selection of ice cream sandwiches that will challenge even the most decisive sweet tooth.

Since the 1960s, the magnificent Christmas display on the property of the Bishop of the United House of Prayer of All People (aka “The Bishop’s House”), has attracted thousands of local area residents and church members from United House of Prayer congregations all across the United States and worldwide. Members of the congregation begin decorating as early as October and turn on the lights beginning at dusk on December 1. A feast for the eyes, it features a dazzling array of lights on nearly every tree and bush on the property, a life-size Nativity scene, angels, Santa Claus, toy soldiers, snowmen, polar bears, snowflakes, and a globe-shaped sign bearing the words “Peace on Earth.”

When it opened in June 2021, Resorts World Las Vegas became the newest casino resort on the Las Vegas Strip—a title it will hold until the Fontainebleau Las Vegas opens at the end of 2023. The hotel, owned by a Singaporean company, has established a reputation for its food and beverage options. The star of the show is Crossroads Kitchen, the first fully plant-based fine-dining restaurant in town, with such highlights as a “foie gras” made of chestnuts and a vegan caviar made of kelp. Another standout is Brezza, an Italian juggernaut from local slow-food celebrity chef Nicole Brisson. The food court—dubbed Famous Foods Street Eats—is designed to replicate a Singapore hawker center; most dishes are woefully overpriced but include delicious versions of Hainanese chicken rice and laksa curry soup.


Accommodations at Resorts World—3,500 guest rooms in all—are divided into three different Hilton brands. The Hilton has the smallest rooms and a minimalist design. The more upscale Conrad offers larger accommodations and contemporary-feeling furnishings with splashes of red. At the top end is Crockfords, where the guest rooms are practically palatial, featuring dark tones, plush fabrics, and luxurious seating areas perfect for social gatherings. Food-obsessed travelers take note: You can use the resort’s app to order room service from any restaurant on the property.


Related: 7 Hotels to Book for “Non-Vegas” People

Too often us intrepid experiential travelers can get caught up in the whole effort of trying to do it all. “I must explore this off-the-map place!” “I have to try this exotic dish!” It’s easy to forget that sometimes the best way to get to know a place is to simply stroll aimlessly. Luckily, Barbados makes it an attractive prospect.

This is a slightly odd place. It’s in the middle of a commercial area, with no restaurants in sight. If you get to the right block, it’s actually behind a large building. You have to knock and be let in like a speakeasy. Once inside, it’s a pretty normal expat locale. The first floor is a Spanish restaurant, supposedly with one of the only wood-burning pizza ovens in Xi’an. Downstairs is the real Green Molly, an Irish pub. You can also order food here. The pizza was disappointing, but the Caprese salad and potato skins were outrageously good. Green Molly is 200 meters north of Ginwa Shopping Center on the intersection of Gaoxin Road and Keji Road. It is behind the GAOKE building.

Hotel Hofgarten is a warm, welcoming establishment housed in one of Lucerne’s oldest manor houses. From the outside, the restaurant looks like a casual pub, but the minute you enter, you sense the elegance housed inside. The space is light and airy. One white-walled dining room has high ceilings, ornate chandeliers, and is flooded with light. The other dining area feels like an upscale greenhouse with floor-to-ceiling windows and a gleaming open kitchen. The chef focuses on fresh ingredients sourced from Lucerne greenmarkets and local cheesemongers. Menu items are seasonal and include favorites such as roasted scallops, porcini ravioli, pumpkin soup, venison, braised veal, poached salmon, and fresh soups and salads. This is a wonderful restaurant if you are seeking lighter, more sophisticated fare in an airy environment while you’re in Lucerne.

A Hawaiian fantasyland on Oahu’s more remote leeward coast, about 40 minutes from Waikiki, Aulani is so seductive—for all ages—that many guests are loath to leave the property at all. And who can blame them? The beach is an idyllic cove (albeit a man-made one) stocked with kayaks, boogie boards, and everything else little beach bums could want. Then there are the three pools, including one for adults only and one filled with tropical fish for snorkelers-in-training, two impressive waterslides, and the biggest crowd-pleaser of them all, a 900-foot-long lazy river where guests, big and small, splash around on inner tubes as they meander around a faux-rock grotto. Goofy, Minnie, Mickey, and the rest—all in their vacation outfits—make occasional cameos at the breakfast buffet or by (sometimes, in) the pool. But while Aulani is most assuredly every kid’s dream, it is not every parent’s nightmare. The resort decor is more traditionally Hawaiian than obnoxiously Magic Kingdom; the lobby is built to recall an old canoe house, on a grand scale, and is covered in murals, painted by local artists, depicting island life. Hawaiian storytellers gather around a fire pit at night, and rooms have warm woods, with a single subtle reference to the Mouse King—a wooden carving of Mickey with a surfboard and ukulele that doubles as a desk lamp. Perhaps best of all, the Aulani has an outstanding, supervised kids’ club that’s free to guests ages 3 to 12. Babysitters are available for kids as young as six weeks old.

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.