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After marching within 100 miles of London to restore the Stuart monarchy to the British throne, Jacobite supporters, led by Bonnie Prince Charlie, retreated to this site near Inverness in 1746. Here at Culloden, they were slaughtered by forces loyal to King George I and the House of Hanover during one of the most harrowing battles in British history. The aftermath was equally brutal, as a massive military crackdown across the Highlands followed in order to prevent further uprisings from disaffected Scots.

Today, travelers can tour the richly researched Culloden Visitor Centre, which features artifacts from both sides of the battle as well as interactive displays that detail the background of the conflict. You can also walk the front lines where the Jacobites made their final stand, then look inside the newly restored Leanach Cottage—the only surviving building from the battle.

Crupet is a member of the organization Les Plus Beaux Villages de Wallonie (The Most Beautiful Villages in Wallonia). It is a very small village with gorgeous stone houses decorated with many different types of flowers. Most of the houses date from the 17th, 18th and 19th century. The highlights of the village are the Crupet Chateau—a medieval farm-chateau situated below the village center, dating from the 13th century, and the Grotto of St Anthony of Padua. The grotto was designed by the local curate and inaugurated on the 12th July 1903. It features 22 religious-themed statues. Many of them depict scenes from the life of St. Anthony of Padua. The Ardennes region is an undiscovered Belgian treasure. There are many more charming little villages like this one. They look like time did not pass over them. When you enter a bakery people treat you like one of their own. Go and discover this wonderful part of Belgium. For full size photos see www.facebook.com/adisphotopage and www.lifeinasuitcase.com

Today, the fern-filled hillsides surrounding the Glenfinnan Monument regularly fill with camera-toting tourists, all eager to see the historic Jacobite Steam Train—which serves as the Hogwarts Express in the Harry Potter movies—breeze across the elevated stone viaduct. More significant than the train, however, is the monument itself, which serves as a striking tribute to those who fought in the Jacobite Risings.

Less than a year before the Battle of Culloden, Bonnie Prince Charlie raised his father’s Standard on this very land, marking the start of the Jacobite campaign. An army of 1,500 rallied around him, then marched as far south as Derby before the retreat that would seal their fate. In 1815, a nearly 60-foot monument was erected, with the long, kilted Highlander at the top representing the clansmen who gave their lives to the Jacobite cause. Travelers can make the dizzying climb to the top of the tower for unrivaled views of Loch Shiel, then tour the visitor center, which tells the story of Prince Charles and the 1745 Jacobite Rising.

The location for the most charming scenes in the movie Amélie, this once-forgotten neighborhood is now a destination for the young and fun-loving. As soon as the weather turns warm, picnickers line the paths along this 19th-century waterway, watching bridges rise and turn to allow barges to pass. Shopping, food, drink, and diversions also abound here: Artazart (83 Quai de Valmy) is recognized as one of the best design bookstores in Europe, while Le Comptoir Général, just across the bridge, offers live music and cheap drinks. Chez Prune has one of the city’s most popular terraces for enjoying a glass of something refreshing and a chance to watch Paris go by.

An ethnic minority living in the Central Highlands provinces, the Bahnar are as renowned for their musical prowess, achieved with bamboo instruments that include the fiddle and xylophone, as their soaring, thatched-roof rongs (meetinghouses used for community activities), some of which climb as high as 50 feet. The quiet town of Kon Tum, located a couple of hours from the point where the borders of Laos, Cambodia, and Vietnam connect—and the border-crossing station into Laos at Bo Y—is a good base from which to explore the numerous Bahnar villages nearby. For the less adventurous, there are a few villages within Kon Tum itself. The nearest airport to Kon Tum is in Pleiku, about 25 miles away.

Book a horseback-riding tour along Provo’s white-sand beaches with Provo Ponies, which is owned by the affable Camille Slattery and located on the southeast end of the island. They offer two guided rides Monday through Friday (one in the morning, the other in the afternoon), while Saturdays are reserved for lessons on their properties, and horses get the day off on Sundays. Book well in advance during the busy season (December to May), as this is a highlight of many people’s holidays. Note this place can be hard to reach, so if you don’t have a car rental, choose their transport option from Grace Bay Beach for an extra $10 per person. Also expect to spend about three hours on the horse.

Situated closer to Cambodia than Vietnam in the Gulf of Thailand, Phu Quoc has arguably the best beaches in the country. An international airport opened in 2012, raising the island’s profile and bringing in droves of visitors. Despite this, the island retains a laid-back, underdeveloped charm, and its coast is still dotted with small fishing villages with brightly painted boats. The interior of the island includes plenty of forest, while some of the land is earmarked for growing black pepper—pepper from here is famous throughout Vietnam. The best beach lies to the west of the town of Phu Quoc; it’s a 13-mile long straight stretch with golden sands, coconut palms, and clear turquoise waters. The An Thoi Islands, south of Phu Quoc but still part of its marine park, offer excellent snorkeling and diving during the dry season from December through May.

Forever on the verge of being the next big target of gentrification, the district known as Santa María la Ribera—northwest of downtown—retains its neighborhoody, down-at-the-heels charms. Its streets are home to a mix of old-school cantinas (all perfectly visitor-friendly) and mom-and-pop restaurants, alongside some neglected architectural gems, hipster coffeehouses, and standard-issue, sometimes grimy local businesses—in short, it’s still real. The district’s centerpiece is its central plaza, known as the Alameda, and its exuberant Moorish-style gazebo (it started life as the Mexico Pavilion at a long-forgotten world’s fair). Recently restored and awash in color, the kiosk is a gem—and the proud emblem of the barrio. Note some amazing old mansions and the spooky Institute of Geology lining the plaza. The nearby Museo Universitario del Chopo—housed in a glass-and-cast-iron former natural-history museum—is a renowned center for avant-garde art that leaves no viewer less than provoked.

Often described as the Grand Canyon of the Pacific, this 10-mile-long Kauai valley is a kaleidoscopic array of scarlet earth, verdant valleys, and raw volcanic crags. Bands of color streak the corrugated landscape, each representing a different eruption and layer of lava. Waimea Canyon Drive has a series of lookouts; among the most popular is Waimea Canyon (past the Mile 10 marker on Highway 550), where a number of rivers once cascaded down the gently sloping shield volcano. When part of its flank collapsed, the rivers combined with dramatic results. Continue into the mountains to explore Koke’e State Park beyond. Its small, free museum contains a 3-D map, which sheds light on the canyon’s wild beauty, while the gift shop specializes in local art, crafts, and Niihau shell jewelry.

Wine is an integral part of life on the Dalmatian Coast, a region with many indigenous varietals; a visit to Dubrovnik shouldn’t go by without a glass of local wine. Tucked away on Palmotićeva Street off the main Stradun, D’Vino offers cozy interiors as well as atmospheric seating at tables set on the narrow thoroughfare outside. Try a glass of something new from the impressive selection of local producers—the knowledgeable staff can help guide you in choosing one. D’Vino features several tasting experiences that highlight the region’s star wines: the Konavle Valley’s refreshing Malvazija, potent Plavac Mali reds from the Pelješac Peninsula, and Korčula Island’s fruity Pošip whites. Pair the wines with a platter of prosciutto and Croatian cheeses for a wonderful welcome to Dubrovnik and its wine region.

Forty miles from Zurich in the heart of central Switzerland, the Axenstrasse is a historic motorway that’s so achingly scenic it might even cure your vertigo. It winds for seven miles around the base of the Uri Alps hugging the verdant ridge of turquoise Lake Uri (a branch of the four-fingered Vierwaldstätter See—Four Forested Cantons Lake—more familiar to most tourists as Lake Lucerne). It occasionally careens through century-old mountain tunnels and past painted bell towers and Roman-era viaducts scattered around the region’s Alpine villages, where the legendary folk hero William Tell is supposed to have come from. There are numerous picnic areas along the older sections of the Axenstrasse, and the entire stretch of lake is swimmable in the summer. Hikers can find a variety of trails along the road that can take them to higher altitudes, where they can spot ibex, chamois, alpine orchids, purple gentian, and acrobatic alpine choughs, riding the thermals of the warm foehn winds, said by locals to cause madness.

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 its opening along a dazzling stretch of sand known as Cabbage Beach in 1962, The Ocean Club on Paradise Island has been the preferred stay of old-money patriarchs and traditionalists. Though much at the serenely posh resort has remained unchanged, the 105-room property has been modernized to meet today’s standards with spa-sized marble bathrooms, sweeping WiFi, and a restaurant run by star chef Jean-Georges Vongerichten. But it’s the feeling of a privileged, unhurried yesterday that continues to draw an appreciative upper-crust crowd. An on-site tennis pro provides tips for improving your backhand, Versailles-inspired gardens complete with a 12th-century Augustinian cloister offer moments of quiet contemplation, and rounds of golf end with martinis at the resort’s bar. These details, plus knowing that a personal butler and afternoon champagne and strawberries are included in the price, keep guests returning year after year.

Among the neighborhood’s art-minded hotels, the Gladstone is the most interactive, with shows, classes, and ongoing events. The 37 rooms, all designed by local artists, have breathed new life into the 128-year-old icon, which filmmaker Christina Zeidler took over in 2003 and revitalized in 2005. The Victorian landmark, named for its avenue (in turn named after four-time Canadian Prime Minister William Gladstone), has been a gathering spot for over a century. And it was home to legendary Toronto characters like cowboy Hank Young, who became a fixture at the hotel as a country singer in 1961 and manned the hand-operated elevator from 2005 to 2009, and Peter Styles, former host of Karaoke Night, with applause sign in hand. The legend of Hank lives on in a framed photo in the stairwell en route to the second floor.

The Gladstone continues to push the boundaries of community and culture with creative events like its educational workshop series, Get School’d, and its annual alternative design event, Come Up to My Room (CUTMR), which runs alongside the city’s Interior Design Show. Begin your stay in this architectural gem with a drink at the Café or Melody Bar (that is, if you’re not first thrust into Fameless Karaoke Night).

A local favorite, this downtown massage spot is beloved for one reason: Lynette A. Foley, LMT, who has perfected her Swedish massage technique over the last 15 years with an arnica-infused organic lotion. Her two-hour Serenity Journey treatment lives up to its nickname, “The Works,” thanks to a combination of an Epsom salt foot bath, hot-stone Swedish massage, gentle hypnotherapy, essential oil treatment, and trigger point therapy.