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Who knew Malta was so pretty? Well, I suppose the people who live there knew. I didn’t. There was, to be fair, a lot I didn’t know about Malta, including that the national language is actually Maltese, which sounds like no Mediterranean language you’ve ever heard. But one of the most unexpected delights were the narrow streets of the capital city, Valletta. The closed balconies that jut from almost every house are a major feature; they’re the first thing you see as you walk down Republic Street, the city’s main thoroughfare, where they are painted a uniform dark green. Meander away from the shops and into some of the smaller residential streets, and you will be rewarded with a wider palette. Bright reds and yellows, cornflower blues, pastel greens, and dusky pinks—it’s like something out of a fairy tale. Go feast your eyes.

There are no boats here, where the Han River flows into the Yellow Sea--this is the watery mine-laden western limit of the DMZ. On a trip to Korea in the mid-1990’s, one of my uncles took us to visit Aegibong, a 500-ft.-high hill that presides over the estuary. From the top of the hill we could see across and into North Korea. The first thing that struck me was the lack of trees--the mountainsides are completely deforested, except for the inaccessible fringe of riverbank. As far as we could see on this clear early autumn day, the slopes above the golden rice paddies were denuded of trees. When the wind blew in the right direction, we could hear propaganda from the loudspeakers on the north bank. A few months later, Kim Il Sung would die, and the North Korean famine would intensify; it’s estimated that up to 1 in 10 North Koreans perished during the mid-to-late 1990’s...all of this while Seoul, just to the southeast of the scene in this photo, would continue to grow into one of the most vibrantly capitalistic cities anywhere... South Korea would morph into the most Internet-connected country in the world, while the North would devolve into a place where doctors have to scrounge in the hills for edible weeds...

First opened in 2004 in a former office building in the Central Business District, the Loews New Orleans Hotel completed a $4 million renovation in November 2014. The new look is modern, but with a nod to the Big Easy: rooms and suites (which, by the way, are among the most spacious in town) are done up in soothing blues and grays, and feature local photography on the walls, and the carpets have a wrought-iron fence motif. Large picture windows afford vistas of the city or the Mississippi River.

Run by the legendary Brennan family and named after the vivacious Adelaide Brennan, the hotel restaurant also got a makeover—think canary-yellow seats, teal tufted banquettes, and Andy Warhol–esque pop art of its namesake.

The largest mosque in Dubai and the only one open to non-Muslims, the Jumeirah Mosque dominates the upscale beach area. The cream-colored sandstone structure with two slim minarets holds some 1,200 faithful. Though it looks historic, the mosque only dates as far back as the late 1970s. An hour-long guided tour takes visitors through the pale-yellow-and-azure interior. As you admire the magnificent ceiling decorations, you’ll also get a nice break from the city heat and noise.

Mexico’s most influential architect—and the only one to receive the Pritzker Prize—Luis Barragán was born and trained in Guadalajara and practiced in the city until he was 34. He then moved to Mexico City, where he achieved fame for his distinctive and colorful approach to modernism, noteworthy also for its emphasis on courtyards and gardens.

Little remains in Guadalajara of Barragán’s early work but one notable exception is the Casa Iteso Clavigero, which now serves as a cultural center for a Jesuit university. While the interiors have been redesigned into gallery spaces, the exteriors have been beautifully preserved. In 1929, when Barragán designed the house, he was still working in a largely regional style, though the house’s bright yellow walls and some ingenious details provide hints of the architectural masterpieces that he would create later in his career. It’s free to walk around the building (as well as enter it, though there are no permanent exhibits related to Barragán) and you can take photos of the exteriors (but none inside the building).

Centuries-old catacombs decorated with human bones pepper the crypts at this Franciscan monastery dating to 1774. Decked out in impressive Spanish Baroque architecture, the canary-yellow church and monastery also house a remarkable library with some 25,000 antique texts (some predating the Spanish Conquest) and are flush with romantic courtyards and cloisters. Don’t forget to look up: A magnificent Moorish-style cupola, carved of Nicaraguan cedar in 1625, oversees the main staircase.

Slightly sweet, with pleasantly salty mineral umami--that’s what the yellow-orange goo from sea-urchins tastes like. The fresher the better for this roe--and if you visit the coast of Jeju island, the legendary “haenyo” women divers will have just plucked these spiny balls from the sea floor minutes before your arrival. Wildly popular with visitors from nearby Japan, where the delicacy is called “uni,” Jeju islanders call it “gusal;" mainland Koreans refer to it as “seong-geh.” I had just had some in a bowl of seaweed soup for lunch when my wife and I accompanied my mother down to the rocky cove beneath Seongsan Ilchlulbong crater to watch the haenyo emerge from the sea. My mother, who is Korean, had just retired, and was visiting a corner of her own country that she had never seen. Volcanic Jeju-do is a subtropical island with a culture distinct from the rest of Korea--"the island of wind, women, and rocks.” The haenyo are dwindling as younger women seek urban jobs; many of the divers are in their 50’s and 60’s and still dive without oxygen tanks, harvesting shellfish cooperatively... My mother struck up a conversation with one of the women as my wife and I soaked up the salt air. The haenyo, still dripping in their wetsuits, were spooning out the roe--and suddenly, a couple of spoons were being waved in our faces--a free sample! Fresh from the sea-floor, served by living legends--not a taste that fades quickly...

While New York has its pastrami, Montréal is the home of smoked meat. (The preparation of both is similar: A beef brisket is cured in spices for a week, then hot-smoked and finally boiled before being served.) Though others may question the claim, Schwartz’s boasts that it is the original home of smoked meat, serving it since 1928. Regardless of who was first, Schwartz’s is the most popular smoked-meat option in town. Order a sandwich, on rye with only yellow mustard to accompany the meat, and you’ll soon understand why the citizens of Montréal are so passionate about the dish.

To understand China, it’s imperative to understand the important role religion and philosophy play in the culture. Buddhism is one such influence, and this gorgeous temple tells a bit of that story. Yonghegong is in the northern part of Beijing and is easily accessible by bus or subway. Go late in the afternoon to avoid the tour buses and catch monks in the midst of their ceremonies.

Yonghegong is also known as the Yonghe Temple, Yonghe Lamasery, and Lama Temple.

It’s an unforgettable experience: Getting up at the crack of dawn in mid-winter, walking through the large municipal park on the Pest side of town, checking in to the Széchenyi Thermal Bath (mostly with Hungarian pensioners because tourists usually arrive later), and slowly easing into one of its three large outdoor hot spring pools, surrounded by the golden yellow neo-Baroque palace—built in 1913 for the baths—while old men playing chess in the water. Then watch as the sun rises slowly, and your breath dissipates into the cold, crisp air. The spa has 15 indoor baths, too, as well as 10 saunas at various temperatures. This spa isn’t about being posh, it’s about easing into the kind of everyday self-care that Hungarians have known and avidly practiced for centuries. Just join them.

Overlooking the Coal River Valley, Barilla Bay, and the vineyards that produce the winery’s award-winning rieslings, sauvignon blancs, and other cool-climate varietals, Frogmore Creek is also home to a restaurant you can write home about, open daily for lunch from 11:30 a.m. to 3 p.m. Here you can pair the star of the most recent wine harvest with colorful dishes such as beef tataki with horseradish gnocchi or cured yellowtail kingfish sweetened by seaweed and soy caramel, apple, and pomegranate. Edible flowers and bright sauce droplets create art on the plate. But the real masterpieces are the desserts. If “chess mate” and “lemon basil legos” are on the menu, order both. In late 2017, Frogmore Creek opened a second restaurant inside the MACq 01 building on the Hobart waterfront.

Film fans may remember the scene in Out of Africa when Denys Finch Hatton’s little yellow gypsy plane swooped above the pink flamingo–filled waters of Lake Nakuru to the sound of the John Barry soundtrack. The lake is indeed known for the thousands of flamingos that nest along its shores, attracted to the lake’s vast quantities of tasty algae. (Recent rising water levels have resulted in many of the birds moving their nests elsewhere, but naturalists believe they’ll return when the waters recede.) In 1961, the lake and its surrounding land were named Lake Nakuru National Park, now protecting the black and southern white rhinos, warthogs, lions, baboons, and other wildlife that live here. The lake is a roughly three-hour drive from Nairobi.

In the middle of a metropolitan area of twenty million, Seoul’s historic Bukchon neighborhood has kept a traditional village feel. “Hanok"—traditional courtyard houses, with upswept tile roofs and latticed sliding doors—line the hilly streets. Some of them have been opened as small guesthouses. After a trans-Pacific flight, and then a bus ride into the city (from the new airport, built on reclaimed land in the Yellow Sea), I walked a few blocks up narrow lanes and through a wooden gate. I felt as if I’d stepped back into the Korean countryside of a century ago. A rooster and a rabbit shared the courtyard, filled with hydrangeas and herbs. A persimmon tree towered overhead. My room had sliding papered doors; a simple low bed and table; no TV...but free Wi-Fi! The friendly owner, whose family lives in one wing of the house, showed me the hot water machine where I could make instant ginseng tea and “ko-pi” (coffee). Not all hanok lodgings are so spartan. Behind the main courtyard of this house, a “sarang-chae” is also available—it’s like a mini-house (or casita), with its own private garden: rustic luxury. While staying here, I met an Israeli man and his Japanese wife on their way back to the Middle East, as well as a couple of professors of Indian languages from Seattle on their way to New Delhi. Bukchon is becoming more widely known as one of Asia’s urban gems. (For more information: http://www.seoul110.com/html_en/1.html)

An undulating steel and glass canopy wows visitors who enter the Kogod Courtyard. Inside you’ll find diners from the museum’s café, tourists soaking their weary feet in the shallow fountain running across the space, and students taking advantage of free Wi-Fi in the light and airy setting. The modern roof seals the center of the old Patent Office Building, currently shared by the National Portrait Gallery and American Art Museum. Architect Norman Foster designed the roof to have minimal impact on the building by creating a support system that prevents direct contact and weight placement on it. Unlike most of the other Smithsonian Museums located on the Mall, this gem is found in the busy Penn Quarter of downtown D.C. It is my favorite place to bring visitors, not only for the impressive courtyard space, but also for the preserved architecture of the patent offices on the top floor. Check the Smithsonian’s website for special courtyard workshops, concerts, or events. The museum is right near the Gallery Place/Chinatown Metro on the green, yellow, and red lines.

Travelers hoping to find the lap of luxury need look no further than the Ritz-Carlton. Backed by the aquamarine waters of Palm Beach, the resort’s 320 rooms are generously sized, with cheery turquoise-and-yellow color schemes and balconies overlooking the ocean. Leisure pursuits can be as easy as a daytime doze in a poolside cabana or as strenuous as a catamaran sailing trip complete with diving lesson. Need a break from all that sun? Indoor facilities include a spa that specializes in island-inspired treatments (think full-body massages with local aloe and divi-divi tree oil) and a state-of-the-art gym that’s open 24 hours so guests can sneak in early-morning workouts. Before you roll your eyes, consider the four on-site restaurants (BLT Steak, from noted chef Laurent Tourondel, is a favorite). For an even more memorable experience, staff can arrange a private sunset dinner on the beach to the tune of a serenading violinist.