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You can opt to sit back and relax on a 30-minute covered wagon ride to Roosevelt Lodge’s chuckwagon, or you can saddle up for a one- or two-hour horseback ride. However you choose to get to the lodge’s outdoor kitchen and campfire in Pleasant Valley’s sagebrush flats, a cooked-just-right steak, corn bread, baked beans, and fruit cobbler await you. The chuckwagon’s baked beans are rightly famous, and you’ll likely go back for seconds of the cobbler. After dinner, keep your eyes peeled for wildlife—Pleasant Valley isn’t quite as wildlife rich as neighboring Lamar Valley, but spotting bison, elk, or wolves isn’t unusual—while your ears enjoy traditional Western songs and cowboy poetry from a lodge wrangler.

Cameos aren’t exactly an art form indigenous to Central America, which makes the Stone Castle Cameo Factory’s story all the more interesting: An artisan went to Italy to learn the craft from a master; he then returned to Honduras and taught others, thereby launching a cottage industry. Created from Honduran conch shells, the cameo art here ranges in size and type from traditional brooches to lamps. Customers paying in cash will be able to bargain for discounts.

There’s a comfortable stillness to the acres of Ojai Valley Inn and Spa that’s apparent even when a cacophony of voices fills the air. Sunlight shines brightly against the resort’s white façade, which gleams in unison from the restaurants, accommodations, spa, and pools outstretched on shaded grounds. Flowers – from roses to bougainvillea, lavender to jasmine – line pathways where views of the surrounding rolling mountains peek out between buildings. And even when bicyclists, pedestrians, and the occasional golf carts use those pathways, the motion is as calm and quick as the breeze. Originally built in 1923 as a country club and golf course, the inn has never lost its luxurious appeal for intimate, quiet privacy. Old Hollywood stars have come and gone through its Spanish-style property, and today, the resort is still known as a place where big names can tee off or swim undisturbed. Its more than 300 guest rooms are tucked away in a series of terracotta-topped buildings that share a style of calm blue and white shades. Many rooms feature fireplaces enclosed by a sitting area, and private balconies are scented by the surrounding blooms. In the morning, sip a Keurig coffee from the soft white sheets of bed, or step outside for the view. Then, walk or bike to breakfast before a swim in the newly opened, “adults only” pool.

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.

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.

Overlooking the ocean, 12 massive sculptures bear silent witness to history, inviting interaction and contemplation. Galician artist Manolo Paz created the granite sculptures in 1994, inspired by the Neolithic menhirs, or standing stones, that are found throughout the Iberian Peninsula. Visitors come to view the sunset, the Torre de Hercules, the Atlantic Ocean and the city framed by square holes cut through the monumental stones.

This spacious North Shore eatery and watering hole riffs on the beloved Honolulu original. It makes a strong showing in the “pupu” (appetizer) department with nibbles like poke, pot stickers, kālua-pig fried rice, Korean-style chicken wings, and nut wraps in buttercup lettuce. Cool down with a light, refreshing cocktail unique to this location, such as the Hokulani (citrus, Three Olives vodka, and elderflower liqueur, splashed with soda) or the Hawaii Five-Bo (strawberry daiquiri with Bacardi rum, habañero syrup, and piña colada foam). As with many O‘ahu eateries, the prices can seem a bit more Manhattan-stiletto than “flip-flop surfer bar.” But the flavors and charming service tend to carry the day! (Note: it’s a short stroll to the public restrooms, involving some unlit steps at night. Plan ahead.)

Handmade quilts top pine beds in the 37 cabins of this 1920 lodge in Grand Teton National Park. Horseback rides, cycling excursions, and epic views of the Teton Range are all part of the experience; lucky travelers might spot elk, bald eagles, and osprey. A hearty breakfast spread and a decadent five-course dinner (mushroom tarts, grilled haloumi cheese, cumin-dusted lamb) are also included in the price. For an additional cost, guests can raft 10 miles down the Snake River or take a multiday wildlife photo workshop.

A bucolic resort in the Virginia Piedmont, the Boar’s Head Resort is as deeply rooted in Virginia as its owner and neighbor, the University of Virginia. The land has hosted travelers since 1759, with the original Birdwood mansion dating to 1830. A short drive from downtown Charlottesville, Boar’s Head has plenty to keep a visitor occupied without even leaving the property, including an 18-hole golf course, a full-service spa, a fitness center with squash and tennis courts, and three swimming pools. The resort has 175 rooms spread over 573 acres; suites feature a seating area and balcony or patio, and some have fireplaces. Dining options range from healthy café fare (necessary fuel for all those tennis matches), to a grill overlooking the golf green, to an elegant meal in the restored Old Mill Room. The Blue Ridge mountains are renowned for their fall foliage, but visit in summer for fewer crowds (and UVA students) and the English-inspired grounds and gardens in full bloom. Be sure to ask for details on arranging a hot-air balloon ride over the countryside to appreciate all of historic Virginia.

The sea has always played a big part in the lives of the people of Gothenburg. When you want to relax from city life this is where you go. A tram ticket will take you all the way out into the southern archipelago to enjoy the harsh beauty of the gray granite cliffs. Pack your swim gear and a book and head to an island such as Vrångö, Brännö, Styrsö, or Vargö. Take a walk to find your own private cliff or bay and then dive into the sea. It might be cold, but the cliffs are perfect for warming up against with their smooth, round shapes and ability to keep the heat from the sun. For a Swede, the combination of sea, cliffs, and solitude is bliss. Hungry? Bring a picnic or visit a restaurant like Brännö Värdshus or Vrångö Värdshus.

Climb the grand baroque staircase and pass the Jesuit church, cross Gundulić Square, and follow the COLD DRINKS WITH THE MOST BEAUTIFUL VIEW signs. Then, yes, walk through the walls. Buža translates to “a hole-in-the-wall,” and a hole-in-the-wall it is, one that leads to a cliffside ledge with a bar on it. From the moment you order a cool beverage off a simple menu, you begin to unwind. The backdrop to your drink is stunning: a sky-high stone parapet on one side and nothing but the blue sea between you and the horizon. This is the ideal spot for swooning over Adriatic sunsets.

If visiting a miniature version of a country the size of a postage stamp makes no sense to you, stay away from Madurodam, a top tourist attraction in Den Haag featuring historic Dutch towns, ports, canals, roads and monuments re-created on a 1/25 scale. On the other hand, if you fancy learning about the history of a nation that would be underwater were it not for Dutch ingenuity, by all means visit this interactive park that tells the story behind the battle against water, as well as many historic venues that still exist in Holland today.

Conch is as ubiquitous on Turks and Caicos restaurant menus as palm trees on the beaches, and at Da Conch Shack, you’ll find it prepared any way you can imagine. Of course, there are the classic dishes of conch fritters, conch chowder, and conch salad, but you’ll also find entrées such as curried conch and conch creole. The breezy beachfront restaurant on Provo also serves fresh catch, local lobster, and non-seafood items like steaks and burgers.

It may be only 22 miles west of San Juan, but Dorado Beach, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve feels a world away. The resort has a spectacular location on a three-mile stretch of beach on Puerto Rico’s north shore, where Clara Livingston once ran a sugar plantation—and Amelia Earhart visited before departing for her fateful world tour. In 1958, Livingston sold the property to Laurance S. Rockefeller, who turned it into the first of his legendary Rock Resorts. Known for his green streak, he designed the hotel to respect the local beauty, mandating that buildings could not be taller than the surrounding palm trees.

The Ritz-Carlton—which reopened in October 2018 after a meticulous restoration following Hurricane Maria—pays homage to that original vision. Here, every room is beachfront, with floor-to-ceiling sliding doors that disappear into ocean views, plus deep soaking tubs, outdoor showers shaded by gardens, and either spacious balconies or private plunge pools. As part of the property’s renovation, rooms were refreshed with a color palette that amplifies the natural beauty just beyond the doors. Additionally, the grounds showcase 3,000 new plant species, the spa is offering new locally inspired treatments and cuisine, Encanto Beach Club Bar & Grill features a refreshed dinner menu, and the Positivo Sandbar debuted an omakase and ceviche bar directly on the sand. There’s even an entirely reimagined signature restaurant, Coa, which serves farm-to-table fare cooked on the grill. Still standing strong on the verdant, 1,400-acre grounds are the five 18-hole championship golf courses. The biggest challenge is pulling yourself away from the luxury of the resort to tee up a shot.

Royal Street is to antiques and fine art what Bourbon Street is to booze. This elegant urban thoroughfare is not only home to some of the best examples of the city’s early-19th-century Creole town houses, but is also loaded with high-end antiques retailers. These feature mostly ornate 18th- and 19th-century European sculptures and paintings, early furniture, chandeliers, and dinnerware used by the upper crust. Most of the inventory has a decidedly Continental air to it. Among the better-known shops are Waldhorn and Adler (343 Royal St.); Ida Manheim Antiques (409 Royal St.), run by the same family since 1919; and haute-upscale M.S. Rau (630 Royal St.), with its warren of hidden back rooms open only to serious customers.