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The Florida Everglades is certainly one of the most unusual places to find a winery and brewery, but Schnebly Redland’s Winery excels in both arenas in what some would call “the middle of nowhere.” Guests are greeted by a stunning wine bar ahead, a beer bar to the right and a counter on the left that sells cheeses and snacks. You can also buy any of the selections you’ve imbibed, either bottles of wine or growlers of beer. The wines are unique, made from local fresh fruits like mango, guava and lychee and made on premises. Schnebly’s beers, brewed for Miami Brewing Company, are equally exotic, with brews like the Big Rod Coconut Ale or the Shark Attack Mango Wheat Ale. Tastings start at $7 and go up if you want to keep the glass. Tours of the facilities are available on weekends.

I’m not sure at what age humans develop the skill to stand still and appreciate scenery, but based on a scientific survey of kids who live in my house, it’s not age seven. (On a trip to the Canadian Rockies, as my wife and I snapped photos of the relentlessly picturesque mountains, my son, Luke, investigated how quickly he could break his toy helicopter.) Luke expects Mother Nature to be his playmate. At Bandelier National Monument, about an hour’s drive from Santa Fe, New Mexico, she is. The visitor center offers kids a booklet of activities that, when completed, earn them a Junior Ranger patch. (You could call it a bribe. We prefer the term incentive.) The scavenger hunt sent us off on the Main Loop Trail in search of birds, trees, and bugs, as well as the feature that sets Bandelier apart and makes it perfect for kids: cave dwellings. Ladders of salvaged wood lead to rooms that the Pueblo people carved out of the cliffs here over 800 years ago. “I don’t want to go up, Daddy,” Luke said. “It’s too steep.” “You’ve got this, buddy,” I said. “Just take it slow.” There were no lines of impatient parents pushing their children to race up the ladder. (We saw no more than 20 people on the trail.) Luke could climb the rungs at his own pace. He paused in triumph at the top, then set off to wander the caves. While Mom and Dad squatted—“Watch out for your bald head, Daddy”—Luke could explore without even hunching. After about 45 minutes, we were walking back toward the visitor center. We crossed a nearly dry creek by hopping hand in hand from one downed log to another and were back in time for lunch, before hunger, fatigue, or boredom could set in. It was a parent’s—and child’s—dream hike. This appeared in the August/September 2014 issue.

The first new building to be constructed on the Bund in 60 years, the terraced, granite Peninsula opened in October 2009. Celebrating the city’s Roaring Twenties, the standalone hotel creates a grand sense of arrival with a sweeping driveway. Art Deco design elements occur throughout the property, and traditional decor employs lacquer, marble, granite, wood, and original art. Rooms and suites come with spacious dressing rooms with a full-length valet box for discreet delivery of laundry and packages; they also feature Peninsula’s industry-leading, intuitive in-room technology, with room functions controlled at the touch of a button, and VOIP telephones that allow guests to make free local and international calls. For arrival and departure in style, book the hotel’s Rolls-Royce Phantoms or 1934 Rolls-Royce Phantom II. The property also has China’s first hotel private yacht, a British-built Princess 54 model.

Charlie’s is old-school New Orleans writ large. It’s one of a handful of surviving notable neighborhood steak houses (it’s not far from where the original Ruth’s Chris was also once a neighborhood spot), a no-frills joint with faux-wood paneling on the walls and no menus to hand out. The waiters ask you what size you want, and also if you’d like to start with an order of fried onions. (The correct answer is yes.) Pro tip: Kick off your evening an hour earlier and a couple blocks away at Pascal’s Manale with a dozen or two bivalves at the marble oyster bar of a revered Italian-Creole “red gravy” spot.

Medellín’s urban renewal, following decades as one of the world’s murder capitals, has drawn international attention. Perhaps nothing symbolizes the revival more than the Metrocable, a system of cable cars that connect the city center to steep hillside neighborhoods that were once reckoned to be the city’s most dangerous. Grab a ride on Line K up to Santo Domingo and treat yourself to spectacular views. Once on the ground again, take a short wander around the neighborhood for a taste of the real Medellín and its friendly residents (known as Paisas), and see the small shops and the beautiful library whose original benefactor was the government of Spain. From Santo Domingo, another cable car continues to Parque Arví, an expansive nature reserve and weekend escape favored by overheated locals.

I used to live in Maui, right at the start of the Hana Highway, and driving the famous road was a weekly ritual. I recently went back to visit and found it still as breathtaking as ever. To avoid the tourist traffic (Mustangs seem to be the tourist car of choice), leave early and take the time to actually get out of the car and explore. My favorite stops are always the Garden of Eden Arboretum and Botanical Garden where they filmed the opening sequence for Jurassic Park (ok, kind of touristy, but totally beautiful and worth a stop if you’re a nature geek); Black Sand Beach where the super adventurous can swim out to the bunny ear-shaped rocks and dive into the ocean; Hamoa Beach for body surfing and Oheo Gulch, where you can do the four-mile round trip hike through a bamboo forest to the 200-foot Makahiku waterfall.

Steeped in history, this Parisian landmark was commissioned by King Louis XV in 1758, though it didn’t open as a hotel until 1909. Since then, it’s seen such notable guests as Franklin D. Roosevelt, Leonard Bernstein, Madonna, and more pass through its doors on Place de la Concorde. Designed in the grand, neoclassical style, it reopened in 2017 as the Hôtel de Crillon after a significant four-year renovation, which revamped most of the public spaces in the luxurious 124-room building. The new lobby feels airier—thanks to higher ceilings—yet more intimate, made possible by converting the formerly open space into a series of sitting rooms. Also new to the hotel is the 28-seat fine-dining restaurant L’Ecrin, a Sense spa with treatments inspired by centuries-old French remedies, and a jewel-like, glass-ceilinged pool. Chanel creative director Karl Lagerfeld even designed the two most luxurious suites, the fourth-floor Les Grands Appartements, adding bespoke furniture, his own artwork, and over-the-top bathrooms and dressing rooms.

When Berlin was divided, Checkpoint Charlie was the most famous of the border crossings between the eastern and western halves of the city. It was here that Allied soldiers registered before crossing over into the Soviet-controlled sectors. Thanks to its appearances in Cold War thrillers from Bond movies to John Le Carré novels, it has become a symbol of that era in the city’s, and world’s, history. A small museum nearby includes a replica of the guardhouse that once stood here.

The duo of José Manuel St-Jacques and Simon Bélanger is made in heaven. They design graceful, luxurious clothes for the modern woman who aims at Marlene Dietrich elegance in her every gesture. From crisp white crêpe suits to flowing pleated lamé skirts, their designs are the sort that make you walk taller and feel like you’ve arrived, whether it’s on the red carpet or at a soirée among friends. UNTTLD are masters at blending textures, like see-through evanescent silk worn with a structured cotton pencil pant, and they are known for their unique prints. They sell directly out of their Mile End loft (upon appointment), or through exclusive stores such as Ogilvy.

You can only drink two martinis at the hotel bar at Dukes Hotel in Mayfair. The bartenders won’t serve you any more—that’s how potent they are. This is the place to come in London if you secretly wish you were a member of a gentlemen’s club, and if you want a martini made with all the fanfare—the drinks trolley brought to your table, the bottle, straight from the freezer, shaken as you sit and watch. There are cheaper places to drink, that’s for sure, but do they have green leather armchairs and white-jacketed bartenders and portraits of distinguished 19th-century gentlemen looking at you approvingly from the walls? There’s also a cognac and cigar garden.

A UNESCO World Heritage site in a mountain valley about 40 miles west of Da Nang, My Son is a vestige of the Champa kingdom, a culture that was heavily shaped by Hindu beliefs and practices. Built between the 4th and 14th centuries, the temples pay homage to the god Shiva, though the deity is often referred to here by different names. While some of the shrines are partially restored, and others overgrown with greenery or showing their age (many were destroyed by American bombing during the Vietnam War), the sheer scope of the ruins are proof of the reach of Hinduism and the lofty ambitions of the Cham kings.

Salar de Uyuni, located in the Daniel Campos province of Bolivia, looks like it belongs on another planet. Stretching for more than 4,050 square miles—a little smaller than the state of Connecticut—it is the world’s largest salt flat, formed when several prehistoric lakes dried up 25,000 to 10,000 years ago, leaving behind hexagonal patterns of salt on the otherwise featureless surface. When nearby lakes overflow, or the area gets rain, a thin layer of water covers the expanse, transforming it into a massive reflective mirror that makes for jaw-dropping, dreamlike photos.


The natural wonder has served as a valuable source of salt and lithium for Bolivia, and it has long been a hot spot for tourism in South America. There’s even a hotel built out of salt bricks: the Palacio de Sal. If you’re planning a trip to witness the surreal beauty of the Salar de Uyuni salt flat, here’s what you need to know.



To see Salar de Uyuni’s breathtaking mirror effort, visit during wet season, from December to April—but be aware that when it gets too rainy, it can be hard to get around and you might not be able to access certain areas. May to November is the dry season, which means temperatures are colder, but the ground is harder and you can drive across the land more easily.



The ideal month to visit is May, when the seasons transition from wet to dry and you’ll have a good chance of seeing the salt flats both dusty and reflective.



Salar de Uyuni sits near the point where Bolivia, Argentina, and Chile meet, so tourists tend to come from three different starting places.



The town of Uyuni in Bolivia is the most popular place to embark on tours of the salt flats. The small town is so close to the flats, you can easily take day trips. If you’re traveling from La Paz to Uyuni, you can take a one-hour flight or an eight-hour overnight bus.



San Pedro de Atacama in Chile is another well-known starting point for tours of the salt flats, but because it’s about 200 miles away, most tours are three days long.



If you’re coming from Argentina, look into multi-day tours operating out of Tupiza, Bolivia, a good base less than 60 miles over the Argentinian border.



Tour operators in the region offer shared or private tours. Shared tours are more affordable, but they don’t offer much flexibility when it comes to your schedule. Also, most shared tours are led by Spanish-speaking guides, while private tours can offer English-speaking ones.



Many tours of the salt flats also go to other attractions in the area, such as the Polques hot springs, the Atacama Desert, and high-altitude lakes like Laguna Colorada. Look into tours originating in San Pedro de Atacama and Tupiza for itineraries that include these destinations.



Salar de Uyuni is located nearly 12,000 feet above sea level, so you might experience altitude sickness symptoms such as nausea and headaches and should plan accordingly.



To enter Bolivia, travelers must have a tourist visa, which costs $160 for U.S. citizens, and a yellow fever vaccination certificate if they are traveling from a country with risk of yellow fever.

I’m not one to skip breakfast, especially in Italy, where thoughts of cappuccino, pastries, and local ham tend to rouse me early from slumber. But on my first morning at the Hotel Sant’Angelo, in the old quarter of Matera, I was having a hard time dragging myself from the creature comforts of my cave. Staying in a cave, it turns out, can be surprisingly pleasant. There was just one small window high overhead, but the room and adjoining bath were in no way dank—a testament to the natural ventilation that keeps the caves cool and comfortable. The wavy contours of the white tufa-rock walls conjured a feeling of being enveloped in some primordial womb. Yet there were modern amenities: luxurious linens, Internet service, a telephone. Fred Flintstone never had it this good. I might have snoozed until noon, were it not for an impatient mate eager to see the sights. We had arrived in the village the previous night after a long drive across the treeless plains of the Basilicata region, located at the instep of Italy’s boot. Matera is an enchanted world of Stone Age splendor. Known as the sassi (Italian for stones), the bisque-colored hilltop cave homes comprise one of the oldest continuously inhabited places on earth, according to UNESCO. The caves have provided shelter for more than 7,000 years. A millennium ago, shepherds inhabited them and carved churches into the rock; during the Renaissance, the area prospered and elaborate buildings were carved out, the excess tufa sculpted into ornate facades. By the early 1900s, the sassi had fallen into neglect. Families and their animals crowded into the caves for warmth, and disease was rampant. When writer Carlo Levi brought this tragic state of affairs to light with his 1945 book Christ Stopped At Eboli, the Italian authorities moved residents en masse to modern housing—leaving the sassi abandoned, save for the occasional crew brought by film makers (Pier Paolo Pasolini and Mel Gibson among them) in search of a biblical-looking backdrop. It was only in the 1990s that the Italian government encouraged people to move back. Residents revamped the cave dwellings as homes, restaurants, and inns. When the Sant’Angelo opened in 2004, it was the area’s first luxury hotel. The 19 cave rooms are sparsely but tastefully appointed with rustic wooden furniture. Some carved decorations—crosses, hearts, an owl—date back hundreds of years. Fossilized shells embedded in the walls reveal that the region once lay underwater. Eventually, my fiancé and I did emerge from our cave to wander the town’s ancient alleys. A local guide named Dora Cappiello took us into some of the 150 chiese rupestri (rock churches), where she pointed out wine troughs and frescoes of San Nicola, the patron saint of local shepherds. We also visited a cave dwelling that had been restored to resemble its state when the caves were equal parts manger and living space.
Simple, delicious meals punctuated our explorations. The curvy walls of Baccanti, a cave restaurant, created a private nook where we feasted on silky pappardelle pasta with a cinghiale (wild boar) ragu, accompanied by a dry, fruity red aglianico from the nearby Vulture wine region. Tired and sated after a full day, we headed back to our cave—on moonless nights, a flashlight or trail of bread crumbs is advised for the stumble back to the hotel—where the promise of a deep, sound night’s sleep awaited. —Amy Cortese Hotel Sant’Angelo, 39/0835-314010, from $211 for a double. This appeared in the March/April 2010 issue.

Upstairs from her flagship Delirio boutique (also worth a duck-in), a beautiful town house is home to chef Mónica Patiño’s Casa Virginia, featuring a changing seasonal menu that takes creative advantage of Mexico’s wide-ranging culinary variety. Its sunny dining room and nostalgic “shabby chic” details cannot fail to delight; its family-style servings are great for sharing. Recent specials included an endive salad and two artichoke preparations, a squash soup, a Mexican-style osso buco, and a rack of lamb. All ingredients are locally sourced and most of the herbs—a key element in everything Patiño does—are grown on the roof. There can be few more civilized meals anywhere in Mexico City.

Quick Bites, located on the lobby of the Marriott Hotel at the City Center Mall, is a great place for a healthy breakfast, a grab-and-go lunch, or a light dinner. It has a home-made ice cream counter with every flavor under the sun and mouth-watering baked goods. It serves a delicious Turkish coffee, a wide selection of Arabic breads straight out of their stone oven, small pizzas, and pastries filled with za’atar (a mixture of herbs, sesame seeds, dry sumac and salt). With free wifi, a selection of national and international newspapers, lots of natural light and a relaxed atmosphere, Quick Bites is the perfect place to have just that: a small bite.