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Just down the street from where we stayed in Oaxaca there was a mezcal bar called Mezcaloteca. It was staffed by one woman, very studiously sharing her love of mezcal. She poured us a tasting of three different mezcals into the little gourd cups: an espadin, a madrecuixe, and a tobala—all different agave plants, different producers. She told us how to warm up our mouths with the spirit, how to rub a little bit between our fingers to get the aromas. She didn’t need to tell us how to drink it; that we knew. Reforma No. 506, Col. Centro, Oaxaca de Juárez, C.P. 68000

Up a dirt road that feels more like someone’s private driveway, past the village cemetery with its handmade crosses framed against a dusty hillside, the Penitente Morada in Abiquiu sits crouched on the earth, a wonderful secret, discreet against one of Georgia O’Keeffe’s signature vistas. A simple bell and three wooden crosses hint to the secret society that gave rise to this chapel, recently restored but dating back to the 1700s. New Mexico‘s depth of history always astounds at these northernmost reaches of the search for Cibola. I like to remember I was hardly trying for a perfect shot when I framed this picture after a two-hour private tour of O’Keeffe’s home; my senses were already on overload. Everything is just clearer and crisper in the high desert light.

One of my favorite places in Brussels, mainly becuase I love soccer, is the King Baudouin Stadium. Although I have taken in several Belgian national team soccer games here (not to mention a Mexico vs. Italy game), the stadium is also used for rugby and also athletics. The stadium was formerly named the Heysel but was renamed back in 1985 after it was refurbished mainly due to a tragic incident where several Italian soccer fans died. The stadium lies int he shadow of the Atomium in the northern part of the city.

The Sandía Mountains rise to over 10,000 feet behind Albuquerque. From the top, the view over New Mexico is unparalleled: on a clear day, your eyes can take in eleven thousand square miles--almost one-tenth of the state! The quickest way up is the fifteen-minute ‘flight’ on the Sandia Peak Tramway, ascending from high desert to alpine evergreen forest. Swiss-designed, this aerial tramway has one of the longest spans in the world. Hiking, winter skiing and mountain biking are all available at the top, as well as a restaurant--a steakhouse two miles above sea level. (Prices are what you’d imagine at this altitude.) In case you’re wondering why this mountain range is called “Sandía,” which means ‘watermelon’ in Spanish--at sunset, the mineral content of the granite crags glows pinkish-red; along with the green of the conifers, the profile is reminiscent of a cut watermelon...

Mitla is located in the Oaxaca Valley, just a short distance from Oaxaca City. However you get there, it’s worth the visit. It’s not a large site; an hour and a half will be more than enough time to walk around. There are so many things that set Mitla apart from other ruins in Mexico. First off, it’s neither Maya nor Aztec. Its influence comes from the Zapotec and Mixtec cultures. It sits right on the desert floor, so cactus, desert scrub, and aloe plants punctuate the surrounding landscape rather than jungle. There are no pyramids to climb; the highest structure on the site probably has no more than 10 or so steps to get to the top. There are no stone sculptures or carved walls to be seen anywhere. Instead, the decoration on the buildings are beautiful geometric patterns created by inlaid and interlocked pieces of stone (grecas). Amazingly enough, no two walls have the same grecas, and on some of the walls, you can still see the original red-painted stone. Some of the walls and the cupolas of the San Pedro Church (built by the invading Spaniards) have been restored to their red-colored glory. The desert backdrop, the grecas, the pops of red color – it all adds up to a very special place!

Established in 1917, this cantina keeps tradition alive while not shying away from new, trendy touches. Swing through saloon doors to find live music, drinks served in mason jars, and lots of free regional nibbles in a lively barroom that extends to a large open-air patio. On weekends the space fills up with twenty- and thirtysomethings swinging to salsa beats and sipping cocktails or some ice-cold, locally brewed Montejo beer. The limonada eléctrica, a drink in the namesake shade of blue that’s charged with a powdered-chili rim, is a real crowd-pleaser.

After five days of cooking classes--learning from Estela Salas Silva and Jon Jarvis how to make typical Poblano dishes including sopa de tortilla, crema de chile Poblano soup, tamales, tinga, sopes, pipian verde and pipian roja, mole Poblano, chipotles en conserva, ensalada de nopalitos, and more--the payoff includes a diploma, a loose-leaf folder of recipes, and a deeper knowledge of central Mexican cuisine, culture, and history.

When it opened in 2010, the Matilda injected contemporary style into San Miguel’s old-town hotel scene—and the accolades have been pouring in ever since. On a quiet side street a block from the lush Parque Juárez—and past a small entry courtyard shaded by jacaranda trees—the boutique lodging has filled its public spaces with modern art and decor: Witness the video installation wall behind the reception area, the Aldo Chaparro light sculpture in the bar, and the works by noted “naked crowd” photographer Spencer Tunick in the hallways. (One piece that doesn’t fit the mold is the 1940s-era painting by Diego Rivera of the owner’s mother Matilda, which hangs in the ground-floor lounge.)


Bright and airy guest rooms are spread out over a few small structures and have streamlined custom furnishings, plush linens, and Malin + Goetz bath amenities. Cap a morning spent touring the city’s famous cathedral with a dip in the small infinity-edge pool that sits in the central courtyard, or a Tata Harper facial at the jewel-box spa; body treatments use fresh ingredients like corn, cocoa, and locally grown lavender custom-blended in the on-site apothecary, and a private hammam rounds out the perks. Then enjoy elevated local delicacies at the indoor/outdoor Moxi restaurant, featuring ever-changing tasting menus by celebrated Mexico City chef Enrique Olvera.

Apolinar Aguilar is a blacksmith who lives in the town of Ocotlan, about 20 miles south of Oaxaca city. He makes swords, knives and martial arts weapons as well as domestic utensils such as letter openers and cake serving sets. He hand forges each item using methods that date back to the colonial period. One thing that is different is his source of metal: he uses old car parts, bronze plumbing pieces, and door fixtures. The handles are made of other materials: tropical wood, antler, or bone. It’s quite an experience to see him at work. He pumps the leather and wood bellows until the coals are red-hot, and hammers the pieces by hand until they take the desired shape. Besides the pieces that he has on display, he also makes items to order and will engrave names and dedications on the pieces if requested.

A couple of years ago, on Black Friday, my wife and I headed away from the malls of Tucson and into the mountains: Chiricahua National Monument, just west of the New Mexico border in SE Arizona, was one of the last strongholds of the Chiricahua Apaches, who called this area “the land of standing-up rocks.” This particular mountain peak is Cochise Head (elev. 8087'); cock your head to the right and it resembles a man’s profile. The ‘eyelash’ is formed by a tall Douglas fir tree. The volcanic formation is named after Chief Cochise, who died in 1874. About a decade after his death, several hundred of his surviving fellow Apaches were deported to Florida, never to return to their homeland again... The history of the American Southwest is a sobering mix of people on the move with conflicting labels: pioneers/invaders, defenders/terrorists, war/genocide, natives/aliens...It still hasn’t been all sorted out.

As more and more sophisticated travelers have turned up in San Miguel de Allende, the culinary scene has evolved apace. The jewel-box-like Moxi, inside the edgy Hotel Matilda, is a mandatory for foodies (and delicious even if you just like eating) with dazzling takes on Mexican recipes by Chef Pancho Ibáñez, who relies on organic, locally-sourced ingredients. Fun fact: moxi is the Otomí word for “craving;” adventurous diners get it right away. Swing out for the tasting menu and its near-impossible dazzle.

A few minutes north of Tulum, Xcacel (pronounced “ish-kah-sel”) is one of the region’s more unspoiled coastal areas. The beach has long been a local favorite, especially on Sundays, and in-the-know tourists are showing up now, too. Natural vegetation lines the shore and while there are no restaurants or beach clubs, there is a building with restrooms and showers. The best snorkeling is along the coral reef at the north end, and a small, swimmable cenote lies nearby. Sea turtles lay eggs here, in spring and summer, so take care not to trample nests; local conservation projects collect modest entrance fees to support their efforts.

Alongside an upbeat atmosphere and lots of local color, La Chaya Maya boasts an extensive menu that includes all of the Yucatán’s favorites. The restaurant has two outposts but the central venue, in a large colonial house, sets the perfect scene for sampling the region’s traditional delicacies. Pollo mukbil—chicken stuffed with baked corn dough and wrapped in a banana leaf—is definitely worth a try. Usually eaten only during Hanal Pixan (the Maya’s Day of the Dead), it’s on the menu all year round at La Chaya Maya. Anytime you go, you’ll see women in regional dress cooking corn tortillas fresh on the comal, or griddle; it could seem touristy, but here it merely adds to the restaurant’s vibrant feel.

Michoacan can claim only a small stretch of Pacific coastline in comparison with neighboring states, but what it has is lovely and blessedly lacking in tourist overdevelopment. Playa Maruata is the most beautiful of Michoacan’s beaches and the perfect place to get away from it all. Actually three beaches nestled between mountains and coves, the easternmost stretch of sand is perfect for snorkeling and wading and sunbathing. The beaches are located next to a small village where you can find a grocery store and a tiny restaurant or two. You can camp on the beach for a small fee, or you can spend the night in a rustic cabin for a bit more. If comfort is important to you, you can splurge on a room at the Centro Ecoturistico Maruata, situated on a hillside above the coast.

North Florida’s beaches hardly get the attention of those farther south or on the Gulf of Mexico. But there’s a lot to love about this laid-back surf community just north of St. Augustine’s busy historic district. The beach’s steep drop-off makes little waves jack up nicely, so Vilano is a favorite with surfers—especially on the incoming tide, when the waves are best. And Porpoise Point, on the southern end of the beach, is a great place to cast a line into the surf and fish. Facilities at the beach include parking, showers, pavilions that can be rented for gatherings, and picnic areas.