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It isn’t uncommon to see large tour buses idling in front of Merci, one of the city’s most popular home and design shops, as visitors alight, armed with canvas shopping totes and credit cards at the ready. The store’s philanthropic mission brings in droves of both tourists and locals—profits are donated to a charity in Madagascar that aids women and children. It is a veritable feel-good shopping destination. One caveat: The goods for sale don’t come cheap. While high-end homewares and designer duds don’t match all budgets, Merci’s space itself is undeniably cool. When I’m feeling strapped for cash and want the Merci experience, I head to its Used Book Café. Used books, old and new, decorate this cozy library-inspired café where I can read, write, people-watch (and play the guessing game of “What’s in that Merci bag?”), and rejuvenate with a freshly pressed lemonade. With each sip, a feeling of calm washes over me—a type of Zen harder to reach on the bustling streets of Paris. All beverages, hot or cold, are served with a bite-size piece of cake and a smile. Grab one of the mismatched vintage armchairs, the fresh scones with jam, or the American-sized lattes. But on a warm, sun-drenched Paris day, it’s the citronnade between shop-hopping that sets you right.

A warren of rooms make up this cozy restaurant that some claim is the oldest on the island. The building itself was originally a private waterside home constructed in 1652—some 40 years after the first English settlers arrived to Bermuda—and it has operated as restaurant for more than a century. The name comes from the married Irish poet who lived here and spent his days on Bermuda composing love poems to local women. However, don’t let the tavern in the name fool you: The cuisine and vibe here is haute, and the menu showcases French influences on island favorites, as well as traditional Bermuda fish chowder and grilled meats; if they’re listed on the day’s menu, the soufflés are a must-try. There’s no longer exactly a dress code (the emphasis is on “elegant casual”), but like everything in Bermuda, it is best to err on the side of formal.

Did you know this is a Montreal-based brand? This menswear maker, specializing in shirts and suits hip professionals actually like to wear, has conquered indie circles all over the world with its web store, but over the past couple of years it has also opened flagship stores in Vancouver and Toronto. The Montreal store was the original, though, and you can soak up that cred in a stylish wood-and-iron shop on Mile End’s Rue Saint-Viateur. You’ll find Frank & Oak’s signature check shirts in both long- and short-sleeve, as well as suits and accessories like ties and a beautiful range of house-designed bags, whose combination of rugged canvas and thick leather has made them a favorite among women, too. Photo: Jocelyn Reynolds

Throughout Mexico in the many colorful markets there are lots of interesting items for sale, from live animals and produce to clothing and all sorts of knickknacks. Food is also plentiful and varied. But nothing seems to have registered more with me than the women in the Oaxacan markets screaming “Chapulines! Chapulines!” A quick peek at the giant baskets they carry and you’ll readily notice that insects are on display. Grasshoppers to be exact. Chapulines are very popular in this region and locals buy them by the bagful and munch on them as afternoon snacks. They are only collected at certain times of the year, and after a thorough cleaning and washing, they are toasted with garlic, lime juice, chili and salt. Skeptical as I was, I just had to see what all the fuss was about. So, I bought a small bagful. I reached in, grabbed one and got completely grossed out. Antennae, eyes, wings - everything was still visible. I took a tiny nibble on a wing. Not bad tasting really, but I just didn’t have the stomach to bite through to the center of the critter. I gave the rest of the bag away to a gentleman who was more than thrilled with my offer.

We spent the night in this Bedoin tent in the Sahara near Erfoud, Morocco. The sand is this color, orange. The desert was actually wet in April, the night was cold and clear. The stars were amazing. Recommended. Many tour companies can arrange an overnight in the desert, either in a hotel at the edge of the dunes or in a private tented encampment.

Souq Waqif is one of the top tourist destinations in Doha and one of the most traditional markets in the region. A hundred years ago, this was the place where the Bedouins traded livestock, spices and general goods, but now, the old souq has been restored and the new one looks like a 19th-century Qatari market, with mud shops, exposed wooden beams, antique shops, modern art galleries, a wide variety of restaurants, and divan-like outdoor cafes to smoke shisha and drink chai-karak, the local tea. This is the perfect place to look for traditional Qatari clothing for men and women, spices, antiques, pearls, and oud--an incense as well as a perfume made from agarwood. The market is patrolled by the Heritage Police Officers who wear uniforms from the 1940s and ride regal Arabian horses. As any traditional market, bargaining is expected. Most of the shops in the souq close around 1pm and reopen at 4pm, but the many cafes and restaurants remain open all day.

As we arrived in Arraiolos, in the Alentejo area of Portugal, we saw the 14th century castle and the 16th century church resting majestically up on the hill overlooking the town. Arraiolos is known worldwide for its gorgeous woolen carpets which are made in Moorish cross stitch designs. This industry has flourished in the town since the 17th century. We wandered through town as happy tourists investigating this historic site. We watched as the women wove their beautiful carpet designs and chatted with each other. We sat in the town square and sipped a cool drink and observed residents come and go. The restaurants were on every corner so dinner was no problem. This tiny town was a delight with its carpet factories, many shops, restaurants, churches and museums. We investigated each attraction. The buildings were painted white stucco with bright blue trim and Arraiolos resembled a picture book village. Our stay at the Pousada da Nossa Senhora Assuncao was a memorable experience. This stunning 16th century pousada was formerly a convent. It afforded all of the modern conveniences while retaining the serenity and beauty of 16th century Portuguese architecture. Our trip to Arraiolos was another fulfilling travel experience. There was so much to see and to learn about Portuguese history and architecture in this little gem of a town.

The most quintessential Cambodian souvenir must be the checked cotton krama that you will see around the necks, heads or waists of every Cambodian you meet. Cambodians like to boast that the krama has a dozen different uses -- some clever, some cute, some cringe-worthy. The most popular way to wear the krama is as a handsome scarf and a symbol of national and cultural pride, hung loosely around the neck over a pressed dress shirt. However, head out to the villages and you’ll see local farmers wearing them wrapped around their forehead to soak up the sweat, while village women will wear them as a head-dress. I’ve used mine as a belt. They’re handy for wiping the perspiration from your brow while scrambling temples in the sticky humidity. You’ll see kramas sold everywhere and in the Old Market they start from as little as US$1, however, these are generally made from a polyester-cotton mix and don’t do the trick. I love the authentic, quality cotton kramas sold at boutiques like Wa Gallery, which is where the ones above are from.

Located in the Marais, L’As Du Falafel likes to boast about its connection to rocker Lenny Kravitz. Specifically that he has endorsed the falafel sandwich here. You don’t need me to tell you this. Just go here: it’s posted all over the walls. The fact is, though, L’As Du Falafel doesn’t need to milk the Kravitz connection. They make a very delicious product. The last time I was there, two women in their early sixties were in line in front of me. After they ordered they turned around to me and said, “This is new to us. We come from Holland.” As if Holland has been behind some kind of culinary iron curtain for the last few decades. Whether you’re from Holland or Hungary, you should do like Lenny does and stop by L’As Du Falafel.

The Caribbean is a destination for all types of travelers—scuba divers, sailors, sunbathers—but when you want a dash of European party to season your vacation, head to St. Barth’s, often called the St. Tropez of the Caribbean. Around St. Barth’s the language is French, the currency is Euro, and the elixir of choice is pink. And nowhere does it flow more freely than at Nikki Beach, a club/restaurant on St Jean Beach where I found myself “stranded” when a friend’s flight was delayed. I blame this day on the rosé. After all, St. Tropez is in Provence, the world’s largest producer of the pink wine. And much like her sister beach club in France, Nikki Beach St. Barth’s uncorks the party at 11am and is packed in by noon with jet-setters. Bikini clad guests sun-tanned on the croissant-shaped beach and six pack abs strutted from the turquoise waters à la a James Bond film. Star sightings, I hear, are de rigueur but my eyes were on this group of about 10 men and women from New York. The magnums of rosé, hoisted on shoulders like summoned heros, arrived at their table every 15 minutes, and by 2pm, so had I. By 3pm we were ON the table. The thumping music from the DJ had us leaping to our feet at every song, and to quench our thirst—more rosé. The joie de vivre was as intoxicating as the wine. By 7pm, closing time at Nikki Beach, I was back in my hotel room, sleeping off the sun and my first day in St. Barth’s. I blame the rosé. No, actually, I thank the rosé.

D.C.'s most recognized landmark—and the world’s tallest freemasonry structure—transports visitors on a 70-second-long elevator ascent to its 500-foot observation deck. A National Park Service Ranger accompanies you and shares the history of this obelisk dedicated to the President and General who was regarded as “First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen.” Consider that at completion in 1884, only men were allowed to use the then-steam powered elevator because it was deemed to dangerous for women whose only option was to climb 897 steps to get to the top. Timed tickets are now required to enter and are available on a first come, first serve basis at the monument lodge located along 15th Street NW. Tip: although the ticket window opens at 8:30am, it’s best to line up 1-2 hours early as tickets are usually gone by late morning.

Note: The monument is closed for renovations until early 2019.

Welcome to the vagina island, no joke (the rough English translation of the word Huahine is vagina). And although no one knows exactly where the name originated, historians think it has to do with the important role women played in the island’s history. Comprised of two islands – the more developed Huahine Nui (Big Huahine) to the north, and Huahine Iti (Little Huahine) to the south – there isn’t a lot to do here, but the unpretentious and relatively sleepy vibe appeals to budget travelers and surfers, as Huahine has some of the cheapest beds and best breaks in all of French Polynesia. It is also home to untouched beaches, isolated coves, enchanted azure lagoons and the most extensive complex of pre-European marae in French Polynesia. It also has a noticeable lack of luxury resorts, making it still feel like a Robinson Crusoe style getaway. Some of the most consistent and best surf in French Polynesia is found off Huahine’s shores, but local surfers can be very possessive, so make sure you check with them before hitting up their turn. This is also not the place for novices, as the left and right reef breaks can chew you up pretty badly. Huahine is also home to some great dive spots, including a canyon where you can see barracuda, jackfish, rays and sharks. For snorkeling head to Fare, which has a pretty sand beach just north of town and a wide, translucent lagoon that drops off quickly for excellent snorkeling around coral and through schools of multi-hued fish.

It says a lot about the values of Claridge’s that the hotel once refused Katharine Hepburn entry because she was wearing trousers (strictly not allowed for women at that time). Instead, one of the world’s greatest actresses was asked, politely, if she would enter through the back door. Though this outdated tradition no longer stands, there is much about the historic Mayfair hotel that remains timeless. The downstairs Art Deco lobby looks as elegant as the day it was built in 1931, thanks to a renovation at the turn of this century. And the staff, who got their moment in the spotlight when the BBC aired its Inside Claridge’s documentary in 2012, continue to busy themselves, discreetly meeting the wants and whims of every guest. Upstairs, the story is slightly different, with the hallways and corridors starting to show their age. But the hotel’s willingness to work with a trove of contemporary designers—Diane von Furstenberg, India Mahdavi, and David Linley among them—has ensured the rooms, and the hotel, have not been left to languish entirely in the past.

Despite being a modern capital city, Brussels is still very much in touch which its historic past. Festivals, parades, architecture and traditions all hint at times gone by. One fascinating tradition is still active in Brussels and you can see it in action every Thursday night, near Place Royal. Tucked behind the museums and palace is a nondescript door, leading to a time gone by. It opens into the home of the Grand Serment Royal et de Saint-Georges des Arbalétriers de Bruxelles - the Crossbow Guild of Brussels. At one time, Brussels had many crossbowmen who protected the city walls from intruders. These days, they let the tourists in, but the crossbowmen (and now women) remain. The current mandate of the guild is to preserve the history and traditions of the crossbowmen and to teach others about this fascinating trade. Their guildhall is now a museum dedicated to the guild’s history. It still contains three shooting ranges of different lengths, where members practice every night. Meetings are open to the public (but are conducted in French) and new guild members are welcome. Being Belgium, there is a bar stocked with Ommegang beer, named for a historic pageant that was once integral to the crossbow guilds. It’s a fascinating way to watch history come to life before your eyes.

Facon presents exquisitely handcrafted goods from all around Argentina. Look for baskets by the Matriarca women’s collective; Siwan’i natural, handwoven textiles produced by Wichí-nation women; and Warmi scarves and blankets the women of that Andean ethnicity also create. All items are fair-trade products that constitute an important source of income for the indigenous communities. Additionally, the store showcases contemporary design with an ecological spin, alongside leather goods, objets d’art, and a selection of local boutique wines. Facon is also headquarters to Salú, a club that hosts cooking classes, wine- and cheese-tastings, and talks by local chefs on topics like the origins of the Argentine mixed-grill known as asado.