Hemispheres Inflight Magazine » Three Perfect Days

Three Perfect Days: Paris

admin — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 06:00:26 +0000

AUTHOR SARAH HORNE PHOTOGRAPHS BRUNO FERT / PICTURETANK

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PARIS, THE DIVINE CITY OF LIGHT, elicits passionate reactions from visitors, and for good reason: Its streets and architecture are aglow with captivating light at all hours; its cuisine is widely imitated (though never replicated) in nearly every corner of the globe; and its sidewalk cafés are so redolent with romance that Hollywood has tried for decades to bottle the magic. Some visitors arrive in Paris with return tickets and are so completely seduced they simply never leave. Others depart reluctantly, only to remember their time here for the rest of their lives.

And then there’s a third group, who find the maze of narrow streets overwhelming, the language a roadblock and the pressure to make the most of the mind-boggling selection of historical sights enough to provoke a major meltdown in the shadow of Notre Dame. The trick? When in Paris, do as the Parisians do: Hardcore lovers of culture, the locals would never try to visit half a dozen museums in a day. Committed food fanatics, they cheerfully let lunch stretch to three hours whenever possible. And when a server seems brusque, they never, ever take it personally.

The most important secret to enjoying Paris? Don’t fret if you get lost. Sometimes a wrong turn is the fastest route to that perfect little shop or picturesque wine bar. A sprawling, heartbreakingly beautiful city, Paris is ripe for those who appreciate serendipity.

So take a deep breath, and off you go.

Hôtel Amour
Image – Bruno Fert / Picturetank

DAY ONE Stretch indulgently as you open your eyes at the Hôtel Particulier (1), a Montmartre mansion that once belonged to the Hermès family. Descend to the mod salon for a taste of perfection served on a silver tray: a warm chocolate croissant, slices of airy, chewy baguette with butter and jam, and a steaming pot of coffee, all proffered by a demure serveuse clad in a proper French maid’s uniform.

Outside, wend your way down majestic Avenue Junot, admiring the grand Haussmann-era homes that French film stars like Fanny Ardant call home. A well-heeled dame shuffles past, off to do her provisioning at the local boulangerie Le Grenier à Pain (2), which was awarded the prize for best baguette in Paris earlier this year (and is therefore duty-bound to supply President Sarkozy and Carla Bruni’s daily loaves).

After getting lost on the crowded stairways of Montmartre—made famous by Toulouse-Lautrec and Picasso—you happen upon the Lamarck-Caulaincourt metro stop, where you’ll say goodbye to this arty enclave and make for the center of the city.

At the St-Michel stop, avoid the noisy bustle of the Latin Quarter and turn toward the river, wandering down the Quai des Grands Augustins and browsing through the bouquinistes’ stalls of vintage books before crossing the Seine on the Pont des Arts (3). Here, on the wooden span of the bridge, you’ll find a bench at which to pause and take in the Ile de la Cité and much of medieval Paris arrayed before you. Suddenly you feel a touch of vertigo, but relax, it’s just a little sensory overload. The best antidote is lunch.

Dancing in Montmartre
Image – Bruno Fert / Picturetank

Thankfully, you’ve booked ahead at La Régalade Saint-Honoré (4), one of Paris’ most highly regarded “neo-bistros,” set just behind the Louvre. Take respite in the unadorned dining room and kick things off with a rustic pot of chicken pâté served with delectable mini cornichons. The prix-fixe menu, concocted by chef Bruno Doucet, is exactly the initiation into French dining that you’ve been yearning for, all the simple joys of foodie Paris on three no-frills white plates.

Sated, you decide to walk off this feast in the Jardin des Tuileries (5), beginning at the glass pyramid of the Louvre and sauntering west, marveling at the precisely pruned gardens first laid out for the delight of Louis XIV in 1664. Once filled with courtiers, the Tuileries are now packed with chic sunbathers who lounge on green metal chairs wearing ballet flats and ultrashort shorts, small dogs napping in the shade under their legs.

You extract yourself from the bliss of people watching for a healthy dose of culture at the Musée de l’Orangerie (6), the French monarchs’ former greenhouse just off the Place de la Concorde. You are transported by the room full of Claude Monet’s water lilies and feel your blood pressure lowering as you settle into the rhythm of Parisian life.

Next, hop the metro back to the hotel and slip upstairs for a late afternoon nap before primping for a fashionably late dinner. You’ve made reservations in cool- again Pigalle, where you dine on the back patio at Hôtel Amour (7) among the very young and the very thin. Order some French comfort fare and raise a glass to your exceptionally tired feet.

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Three Perfect Days: Denver

admin — Sun, 01 Aug 2010 06:00:48 +0000

AUTHOR RACHEL STURTZ PHOTOGRAPHS JEN JUDGE

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ONCE UPON A TIME, Denver was the ultimate Wild West town. Its very creation was almost an accident. No roads led here, no railroads or major waterways. The nearest city at the time of its establishment was 600 miles away. Then one day in 1858, a prospector hit a vein, and Denver was born—sired by a few ounces of gold shiny enough to lure men from across the continent who were looking for more. Together, they built a town where there was no other reason to have one.

But now, the capital of Colorado and the great outdoors enjoy equal footing on the high plains, surrounded by the majestic Rocky Mountains. And the people who live here—some of the healthiest and most active in the country—are more than happy to share. Today, you can finish a fresh cup of Brazilian drip coffee in the time it takes for you to drive to South Table Mountain for a prework mountain bike ride. After sampling a mixologist’s happy hour agave cocktail, you can stroll the path along the South Platte River and watch freestyle kayakers flip and twist on the slow-moving water. Or you can learn to rock climb with some of the world’s top mountaineers before making it back to enjoy a seven-course tasting menu at one of the best restaurants in the West.

After spending a long weekend in Denver, you’ll find that even though it’s no longer the Wild West, it’s as close as a big city can get.

Matthews/Winters Park
Image – Jen Judge

DAY ONE Wake up in your opulent room at the Teatro Hotel (1), a boutique property lined with Indonesian sandstone and black Italian marble housed in the old Denver Tramway Building, which offers a view of the Denver Center for the Performing Arts across the street. No wonder the Police, Green Day and Paul McCartney like to stay here.

Waste neither time nor sunshine, and make your way over to The Market (2). This deli, a Denver staple, was founded by a couple of New Yorkers who claim to have personally introduced Colorado to the espresso machine. The honeyed hardwood floors are unique to the neighborhood, but gawking at the décor will have to wait. Get that hearty breakfast pocket to go—you’ve got Red Rocks to explore.

Change into your outdoor clothes (packing hiking boots and a jacket) and hop into a van from Wide Open Adventure (3), an outdoor outfitter you’ve arranged to meet. It’s time to hit the trail. Unless you’re an experienced mountain biker who’s ready for the übertechnical Matthews/Winters trail, stick with the four-mile running and hiking path that takes you to an overlook at the edge of Red Rocks Park. Guide Nick Miller leads the way and points out the local fauna and particularly large outcroppings of rock along the trail. His main goal is to keep you from falling, so he won’t have to carry you home. But the view from the turnaround point—an outcropping of tilted 250-million-year-old sandstone monoliths that hang over a valley of paths—makes the rugged trails worth the risk.

In the shadow of an on-ramp to I-70, pull over for lunch at Kermitts Roadhouse (4). On weekends, motorcycles pack the parking lot and live rock ‘n’ roll blasts while you polish off a bowl of the best green chile stew in the state. Wash it down with a Colorado brew and marvel at the hundreds (thousands?) of dollar bills that paper every surface, before moving outside to enjoy the tunes. (Word to the wise: The proprietors have heard every Muppet joke in the book.)

Skyline
Image – Jen Judge

You’re feeling slightly roasted from sitting in the sun, so you and Nick pedal toward St. Mary’s Glacier (5) to cool off in earnest. In a scene worthy of an Ansel Adams shot, you find a few brave souls cliff diving off a rock ledge into the freezing mountain lake below. Refreshing! At the bottom of the glacier, strap on a pair of snowshoes (provided by the outfitter) and prepare to feel the effects of elevation as you climb up the steep tongue of ice to its peak—10,500 feet. You’ll be rewarded with a panoramic view of the Rockies. Throw a few snowballs and contemplate using your jacket as a sled on the way down (then think better of it).

When you turn your key in the door back at the Teatro, you’re thankful you called ahead and had the concierge draw a bath. You slip into the water redolent with aromatherapy oils and sip champagne while savoring a plate of tiny dark chocolates.

Later, when your stomach starts to growl, you head down the street to Vesta Dipping Grill (6), which serves Western bistro food with dozens of spicy sauces. The warehouse-chic spot has exposed beams, wrought-iron flourishes and mini-streetlights that illuminate the bar. Order up the Madras grilled venison and pair it with the chimichurri, barbecue and red pepper rica rouille dipping sauces for a range of Western flavors, after which, it’s back to the hotel for some much-needed rest.

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Three Perfect Days: Amsterdam

admin — Thu, 01 Jul 2010 06:00:18 +0000

AUTHOR ADAM K. RAYMOND PHOTOGRAPHS BALL & ALBANESE

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ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS OPEN YOUR EYES in this 13th century metropolis and you’ll see that the bustling Dutch capital is alive with color, from the pink and purple tulips standing guard in front of canal houses to the dusty brown brick paths snaking between them. Look a little closer and you’ll see splatters of the bright orange representing the Dutch royal family, the blinding yellow of the city’s overflowing cheese shops and the burnt sienna and glowing ambers favored by its most famous artists, Vincent van Gogh and Rembrandt van Rijn.

There was a time when Amsterdam came in but two hues: the green of the rolling Dutch hills and the icy blue of the Amstel River. Eight hundred years ago, fishermen dammed the river, giving the city its name and starting the transformation from small port village to global hub of business and culture. It has endured the rule of feudal lords and Spanish kings, flourished as a center of art and finance, and suffered plagues brought by rats and terror wrought by Nazis. But a visit to present-day Amsterdam proves this city is a resilient one, maintaining its medieval charm while growing into one of Europe’s most forward-thinking and brightly colored metropolises.

Canal view near the Hotel Seven Bridges

DAY ONE Pull yourself out of bed as the warm silver light creeps into the The Dylan (1), a dapper 41-room hotel with a staff that confirms a widespread rumor about the Dutch— they’re extremely friendly. You’ve shrewdly booked the loft suite, a tranquil hideaway tucked under the building’s gable roof. After a moment of hesitation, you fight the urge to fall back into the marshmallow-soft bed and set out for the city below.

Passing through The Dylan’s stone courtyard, you find yourself staring into the Keizersgracht, the widest and most handsome of Amsterdam’s canals. The name means King’s Canal, which is appropriate given the aristocratic feeling you have as you step into Bakery Paul Année (2), a cozy organic shop teeming with fresh-baked treats. Inside, you confront one of life’s ultimate dilemmas: bread, pastry or cookie? Sensing your indecision, the clerk points to a platter with a golden pastry on it. “You get the last one,” she says, handing you an apple date tart. One bite reveals why it’s sold out at 9 a.m.

As you exit, you notice that you’re smack in the middle of the Nine Streets (3), the epicenter of Amsterdam cool. The streets straddle four canals and are dotted with designer boutiques, eateries and secondhand shops. Step into Cortina Papier (4) and grab a postcard to help you say hallo to those you left at home.

After a visit to the nearby fashion emporium SPRMRKT (5), a former supermarket that gave up its vowels and victuals for postmodern designs and asymmetrical haircuts, you emerge the new owner of a leather jacket, and you continue your spin through the streets of the Jordaan until you stumble across Old Dutch Candy (6). Feeling disciplined, you ignore the chocolate and move on to the main attraction: licorice, or as the Dutch call it, “drop.” You rely on the expertise of the clerk, who hands you a Tootsie Roll–shaped piece of jet-black “drop” stuffed with a creamy beige substance called salmiak. Eyes closed, you take a skeptical nibble, only to find that the contrast of salty and sweet is not just tolerable, it’s delicious.

A pleasant canal view

Pocket bulging with candy, you make your way to the nearby Anne Frank House (7). The line outside snakes around the building, but the ticket you bought online allows you to head right inside. Along with the perfectly preserved secret annex where Anne Frank and her family lived for two years, the museum includes exhibits on persecution and discrimination around the world. Quotations from the 13-year-old’s diary line the walls of the space, reminding you that Amsterdam wasn’t always as beautiful as it is today.

It’s lunchtime, and here that means pancakes. The Dutch version is large, thin and often savory. You ascend the astonishingly steep stairs at the Upstairs Pancake House (8), enter a homey dining room and order something “typically Dutch,” a pizza-size example with bacon cooked into it and a warm layer of baked apples on top. Ten minutes later you’ve paid the cook the ultimate compliment: a clean plate.

As you head back to The Dylan to reacquaint yourself with the mattress, you pass through Boekenmarkt (9), a bustling used book store stocked with the latest bestsellers and dog-eared classics. You stumble across a copy of The Dutch, I Presume?, a book that attempts to explain the peculiarities of Dutch culture, and pocket it for some canalside reading.

After a quick nap back at the hotel, it’s time for dinner. You hop the tram to the eastern edge of town, where you’ve made reservations at De Kas (10), a former greenhouse converted into a haute eatery. Enjoy an aperitif on the porch as chefs shuffle past you to snip green herbs from the lavish garden. Once you’re seated, a server brings out a spread of fresh, in-season delicacies, including sliced turkey and pillowy roast pumpkin served with smoky bacon and jicama jus. The dessert, a sliver of white chocolate served with fresh rhubarb and pistachio ice cream, sends you home full and happy.

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Three Perfect Days: Long Island

admin — Tue, 01 Jun 2010 06:00:25 +0000

AUTHOR SARAH HORNE

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THE TWIN FORKS OF LONG ISLAND ARE QUITE THE ODD COUPLE, jutting into the Atlantic Ocean like a crocodile about to swallow Shelter Island. The bottom jaw of the beast, the South Fork, is a playground for the international jet set, featuring swank resort villages such as East Hampton and Amagansett, and even the occasional polo field. The North Fork, once a briny haven for shipbuilders and farmers, has recently come into its own as a winsome, off-the-beaten-path destination for foodies and oenophiles (with some good, salty dive bars thrown in).

What they share are a regal, quiet beauty and a slant of light that can make even the most jaded world travelers stop in their tracks, awestruck. It’s no wonder, then, that hundreds upon hundreds of famous names have made the East End their summer home and that thousands still willingly brave the traffic on Route 27 on humid weekends.

The 1708 House
Image – Courtesy of 1708 House

DAY ONE Awake in a cloud of exuberantly preppy Ralph Lauren sheets in a graceful four-poster bed at the 1708 House (1), an old-fashioned B&B on Southampton’s Main Street. At breakfast, in the antiques-crammed formal dining room, you remember your posture and steel yourself for a day among the Social Register set.

Stepping out into the sunshine on Main Street, you take in the trapped-in-time village. At a distance, with its church steeple peeking through the trees, genteel Southampton could be any well-preserved town in America. But the yellow Lamborghini careering around the corner gives you a hint that all is not quite as it seems.

You pop into BookHampton (2), where the local gentry pick up their highbrow poolside reading, then check out Hildreth’s Department Store (3), a rambling relic that’s been in business here since 1842. Forget penny candy—this is where young wives have bought their scallop-edged throw pillows and rattan porch furnishings for generations.

East Hampton beach
Image – Coto Elizondo/Getty Images

Next, stop in the Parrish Art Museum (4), a 19th century gallery with an impressive collection of paintings by the likes of Willem de Kooning, Roy Lichtenstein and Chuck Close, before perusing Jobs Lane’s (5) various shrines to resort wear. At Vilebrequin, you check out the baby blue swim trunks dotted with Adirondack chairs; at Harmont & Blaine, it’s corduroy pants in magenta or jade. Finally Stubbs & Wootton lures you in with a pair of velvet slippers. At the register you ponder yacht names. What has come over you?

In your new duds, you stand a bit taller as you swan into Silver’s (6) to lunch (it’s a verb here) and watch Manhattan’s business elite twitching under the handwritten “No cell phones” sign. You order the house specialty, a mammoth $17 BLT like none you’ve ever tasted: thick slabs of warm Eli’s Tuscan bread, rashers of smoky bacon and a generous slathering of mayo. Your cardiologist might be alarmed, but not to worry: You’re about to offset the meal with a hearty walk.

The 1708 House
Image – Courtesy of 1708 House

Hop in your Jaguar XK convertible and drive through the village’s Estate Section (privet hedge–lined streets packed with nine-bedroom “cottages”) before you find Gin Lane and the beach. Park near St. Andrew’s Dune Church (7), an old life-saving station turned seaside chapel, and doff your shoes before climbing up the slope to Cooper’s Beach (8). Walk east until the sunbathers thin out and it’s just you and the locals in their rolled-up khakis, letting their Labradors stretch their legs. Then find a spot in the dunes to take in the gnashing Atlantic.

After walking until your calves begin to protest, you drive around Lake Agawam to Meadow Lane, top down, listening to the firm pop of the tennis balls at the prestigious Meadow Club (9) and peeking at the slivers of vast houses down ominously long private driveways.

Then it’s back to your lodgings for a quick snooze before you freshen up for dinner at Red/Bar Brasserie (10), a Mediterranean eatery in a sprawling farmhouse that served as a speakeasy during Prohibition. In honor of the repeal, sidle up to the bar before positioning yourself at a corner table to watch the jovial crowd while you dine on Malpeque oysters and black truffle–stuffed chicken breast. It’s good to be king.

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Three Perfect Days: Seoul

admin — Sat, 01 May 2010 06:00:03 +0000

AUTHOR LAYLA SCHLACK

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THERE MAY BE NO PLACE IN THE WORLD where the gap between ancient enchantment and modern attractions is more pronounced than in Seoul. Due to a legacy of invasion (by the Japanese, the Mongolians, the Chinese), the city has rebuilt itself numerous times since becoming the capital of the Joseon Dynasty in the 14th century. Its latest incarnation is divided into two zones: the design-forward, tech-savvy and trend-loving southern part of the city—where alleyways crowded with irresistible boutiques intersect wide streets lined with luxury condos and restaurants—and the more crowded area north of the Han River, where narrow streets are home to historical sites, traditional residences and packed outdoor markets. The city remains fiercely proud of its traditions and monuments while wholeheartedly embracing commercial growth. It’s a major metropolis with pockets that feel untouched by industrialization. The joy of a visit is in plunging into both sides of Seoul—the old and the new—and imagining where the city will go from here.

Seoul from on high
Image – Chung Sung-Jun/Getty Images

DAY ONE There’s a lot of walking on today’s agenda, so you’ll want a good breakfast. Grab a quick bite at Take Urban café (1), just two blocks from your home base at The Ritz-Carlton, Seoul (2). The exterior’s honeycomb-pattern facade and the spacious, rustic-chic interior are part of a modern design boom that’s taking place in the southern part of town. The coffee is strong, the pastries are sweet, and the subway station is right outside. You’re ready to go. All directions are in English and Korean, which makes for an extra-easy ride for the uninitiated.

Five quick stops later, you’re at the National Cemetery (3), a large park filled with exhibits of weaponry and photos of troops, a striking reminder of how profoundly the Korean War affected the city. Strolling among its gingko trees is like walking in the country, and after a while, you’re ready for a little more hustle and bustle. Get back on the subway to the Yongsan Electronics Market (4). The stalls outside are no-frills—just pegboards lined with processors, graphics cards and tangles of high-tech doodads. But as you head deeper into the maze of shops, away from the stalls and food carts, you’ll find more buyer-friendly fare, such as tiny netbooks and an assortment of Hello Kitty portable hard drives. Time for a new desktop? The prices are on the high side, but if you’re planning to build your own computer— many Seoul-dwellers seem to be doing just that—this is the place to pick up the pieces.

Changdeokgung
Palace
Image – Frédéric Belge

Opting for lunch instead, you jump into a cab and head for Sushi Hyo (5). At the sushi bar, the chef serves one piece at a time, starting with yellowtail and haddock, and moving on to octopus and succulent fatty tuna. (A note on etiquette: Sushi is eaten with your hands; chopsticks are for the pickled ginger.) Having consumed more fish than you ever thought possible, you walk to Cheongdam-dong (6), Seoul’s answer to Rodeo Drive, where you stop in one of many designer boutiques and grab a Louis Vuitton bag before moving on.

Namdaemun (7) is a sprawling market where you’ll find everything from Japanese pastries—baked this morning in Japan—to rows and rows of the stainless steel chopsticks favored in restaurants around the city. The market is named after the city’s ancient south gate, which was damaged by fire in 2008. Stay on the lookout for accessories, tableware and hanbok (traditional outfits consisting of full, high-waisted skirts and short fitted jackets for the women, and loose, silky overcoats for the men). Craving a glimpse of Seoul’s storied youth culture, you head east to Dongdaemun (8), the scene’s epicenter. The latest hit by “K-pop” music sensation Girls’ Generation blares from hundreds of TVs as teeny boppers wearing teddy bear hats shop for cartoon cell phone charms. Pick up a pair of anime-themed knee socks and be on your way.

Traditional
dumpling-making
in Insadong
Image – LPI/Newscom

Before dinner, you ride to the top of N Seoul Tower (9), Seoul’s observatory high on a hill. Arriving just as the sun is setting, you spend a moment watching young couples write their names on locks, which they attach to the fence around the base, cementing their romance. Then you ascend, and Seoul’s vastness extends before you—376 square miles and 10.2 million people. As you gaze out at Seoul’s infamously entangled traffic, you make a decision: You’ll be taking the subway to dinner.

Hop on the No. 4 line and make the easy transfer to the No. 9. Your destination is Nonhyeon Samgyetang (10), where you order samgyetang, a traditional chicken-ginseng stew. It’s a whole baby bird stuffed with rice, chestnuts and ginseng in a delicious savory broth. After a long day, the soup is so soothing you risk falling asleep in your bowl. Fortunately you’re close to the Ritz. You take note of Seoul’s stylish set lined up to dance under the laser lightshow inside Club Eden before passing through the hotel’s palatial lobby and up to your cushy suite. You climb under the fluffy comforter and flip on the flatscreen in the bedroom, but you’re asleep before you even notice what’s on.

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Three Perfect Days: Geneva

admin — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 06:00:25 +0000

AUTHOR JEBEDIAH REED

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IN MANY RESPECTS, THE SWISS CITY OF GENEVA is designed to cater to the very wealthy and the very powerful, which is why, to the rest of us, it might seem like a bit of a splurge. When so many of your visitors are interested in private banking services, high-level diplomacy and timepieces that cost as much as sports cars, it’s unrealistic to expect a lot of bargains. Fortunately, you get what you pay for in Geneva. The city is extraordinary in its history— Julius Caesar passed through, it was the world capital of Protestantism in the 16th century, and today it is home to a permanent office of the United Nations—as well as its natural setting, located as it is on the shore of Europe’s largest lake and under the towering grandeur of Western Europe’s tallest mountain, Mont Blanc. But despite Geneva’s global significance, the city proper is home to fewer than 200,000 people, and it rarely feels overcrowded: You can sip espresso at a café in the stunning Old Town and feel, as a visitor, as though you are part of the fabric of the place, enjoying its charms ever so discreetly. In fact, the Genevoise wouldn’t have it any other way.

Diving at Bains
de Pâquis
Image – Sean Macleod

DAY ONE You wake up at Hotel President Wilson (1), a 230-room modern glass and steel stunner on the Right Bank of Lake Geneva. Your elegant room looks out on the water— as does the hotel’s $63,000-a-night bulletproof Royal Penthouse a few floors above. For a moment you wonder what titan of global finance or politics is staying there now, but breakfast awaits. Pass through the chic water-themed lobby as you hurry outside to La Vouivre bakery before the famous milk chocolate croissants sell out (they always do). The glorious pastry melts in your mouth as you sit at an antique wooden table sipping coffee and watching an art student sketch nearby.

This is the Pâquis district, a diverse and lively neighborhood frequently described as “emerging,” which, in Geneva, seems to mean a conspicuous dearth of luxury boutiques compared with adjacent areas. But Rue des Pâquis, the district’s main street, is lined with charming shops and restaurants. Make your way past them to the sylish five-star Le Richemond (2) hotel, where a bellman points to a low-slung water taxi, or mouette. Once aboard, you savor the breezy half-mile trip across the lake to the Left Bank, where locals are sunbathing and a few hearty souls are enjoying a morning swim.

After stopping to admire the 450-foot-high Jet d’Eau (3) fountain, Geneva’s most iconic sight, you continue toward the Jardin Anglais (4) to find out what time it is at Flower Clock, an enormous analog device with a face made of thousands of blossoms.

Place du
Bourg-de-Four
Image – Alexei Fateev/Alamy

Timepieces are the soul of this city, so you also pop your head into the Bucherer (5) jewelry shop across the avenue and check out the $100,000 Rolex with the all-diamond face. Avoid an impulse purchase and stroll over to Rue du Rhone, “Geneva’s Fifth Avenue,” for some window shopping. It’s an impressive display of luxury, but the old walled city of Geneva, just three blocks to the south, is more your speed. You climb the narrow cobbled streets up to Hotel Les Armures (6), a magnificent 17th century mansion that serves what many local foodies consider the city’s best fondue. A place that might be overrun by tourists elsewhere in Europe feels local, with finance types sporting pocket squares and conversing quietly. You order the classic fondue—croutons dipped in savory cheese—and afterward the waiter shows you pictures of the Clinton family eating here. (Hillary got the fondue, Bill the sauerkraut.)

Before the food makes you sleepy, it’s straight to nearby St Pierre Cathedral (7), a mesmerizing architectural Frankenstein as important to Protestantism as St. Peter’s Basilica is to Catholicism. Step inside and admire the austere wooden chair where John Calvin sat while he preached. Outside, stroll over to the ramparts of the old city wall and pat the trunk of Geneva’s famous chestnut tree (8), whose first annual bud traditionally marks the end of winter. Descending an old cobbled horse ramp, you find a small playground at Place Neuve where serious-looking men play chess with oversize chessmen on boards the size of shuffleboard courts. Try not to become a pawn in their game.

On the way home, loop back through the Old Town and enjoy a vealburger with parmesan cheese at the chic bistro Soupçon (9), then pop next door to the lively and shockingly inexpensive La Clemence, a bar that occupies the best real estate on Place du Bourg-de-Four, the Old Town’s central plaza. If you’re in the mood to indulge, ask for a locally brewed Calvinus beer. A cheeky young Swiss fellow warns you with a wink, “The first one isn’t so good—but they get better.” He’s right.

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Three Perfect Days: Austin

admin — Mon, 01 Mar 2010 06:00:56 +0000

AUTHOR MARK HEALY

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WEIRD. THAT’S HOW AUSTIN SEES ITSELF. It’s part of the local identity, a way for this proud city to distinguish itself from the Lone Star State’s other high-profile, large-personality towns. You see it on bumper stickers and in boutique storefronts, on University of Texas backpacks and affixed to the insides of cabs: “Keep Austin Weird.” It’s an effective battle cry and an admirable goal. And so far—if the Viking-costumed klezmer band you see dancing in the street is any indication—Austin seems to be doing a pretty good job.

Austin is Texas’ capital and in many ways a direct expression of the state’s rough-and-tumble Ranger spirit. But there are other forces at work in shaping the city’s character. There’s UT, a local tech industry and, perhaps most notably, it’s the self-proclaimed “Live Music Capital of the World,” with more venues per capita than any city in the U.S. It is also home to filmmakers and actors (Richard Linklater, Robert Rodriguez, Sandra Bullock and King of the Hill creator Mike Judge, to name a few), along with hordes of chefs who’ve come to join a barbecue and Tex- Mex revolution. Austinites also embrace the skeletal aesthetic spilling over from Mexico’s Day of the Dead celebration, reveling in their city’s haunted hotels, bizarre “moonlight” towers and appreciation for the occult. With all these overlapping quirks, weirdness abounds. May it stay that way.

Rowing down
Barton Creek;
Image – Blake Gordon

DAY ONE Start your day like a local. Have breakfast at Magnolia (1), a casual roadside restaurant, draped in Lone Star–Love Child décor, that spoons out a mean breakfast. Try the Love Migas, a scramble of eggs, peppers, onions, cheese, salsa and shards of tortilla cooked in a garlic and serrano concoction Magnolia calls “love butter.” Scrumptious, and just slightly better than the Frisbee-size whole-wheat blueberry pecan pancake you’ll want to order for dessert. (Already, you’re figuring out that Austin’s food is so delicious and varied you’ll have to wake up early and stay out late to squeeze in four meals a day.)

Now you’re ready to explore. The scrubbed-clean main strip of trendy South Congress, or SoCo, includes some of Austin’s best shopping, but you won’t find a Pottery Barn or Barnes and Noble. Austin has remained somewhat immune to massive chains, mostly because the local restaurants and shops are such tough competition. You’ll stroll past emporiums such as Uncommon Objects (2), which houses dozens of top notch vintage vendors, folk art and crafts stores, and Western wear mecca Allen’s Boots (3). Be sure to stop in Lucy in Disguise with Diamonds (4), a vintage costumer that leads you to ponder what kind of city can support an 8,000-square-foot store whose main business is renting and selling Elvis jumpsuits, elf costumes meant for adults and Queen Guinevere gowns. “Austin’s just a town that likes to dress up,” the woman at the counter tells you. “All part of keeping Austin weird. Everyone’s out there doing their part.”

Gary Clark Jr. at
Lamberts Downtown
Barbecue
Image – Courtesy of Lamberts

All that eccentricity has worked up your appetite for some Tex-Mex. Just a few doors down is Guero’s (5), Austin’s best-respected purveyor of tacos, enchiladas and all things tortilla. You snag a spot on the patio, ideal for people-watching, and dig into tacos al pastor (marinated pork and pineapple on fresh corn tortillas).

Afterward, go for a stroll through the historic Bouldin Creek neighborhood, peering at the eclectic assortment of Victorian and Mission-style homes lining the streets. You slowly make your way across the river to the comfort of the Four Seasons (6). Take a minute on your balcony to enjoy the view of the Colorado River. Then get going. It’s happy hour downstairs at Trios, where the combination plates—beef carpaccio, truffled arugula and manchego, and steak fries in truffle aioli—are too refined to pass up. So are the scorched Padrón peppers. You watch the sun set over Lady Bird Lake before heading out for the evening.

Magnolia Cafe
Image – Courtesy of Magnolia Cafe

On any given night, there are upward of 100 good bands or solo artists on Austin’s many stages. A fixture since 1957, the Continental Club (7) just happens to be one of the oldest and best venues. The beer is cheap, and the crowd is feisty, attractive and happily on its feet for the cross-border groove of a local band called Charanga Cakewalk.

Before turning in, grab a cab to a nuevo Mexican restaurant called La Condesa (8) in the Warehouse District. With sleek light fixtures and cool concrete floors, this is a destination for the slick set. If you’re more interested in grabbing a stool at the bar, consider ordering one of more than 80 different tequilas and digging into a soft, crisp and utterly delicious huarache with pork belly and apple topping.

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Three Perfect Days: Montreal

admin — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 06:00:26 +0000

AUTHOR MAURA EGAN PHOTOGRAPHY PETER FRANK EDWARDS

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YOU MAY WANT TO PRACTICE YOUR FRENCH IN MONTREAL, the second-largest French-speaking city in the world, but don’t worry—it won’t be on the test. Most residents speak English. That’s the nature of this beguiling Quebecois city. It’s an anything-goes, old-meets-new kind of place. Modern glass skyscrapers edge up against 18th century Beaux Arts buildings, and the old town’s European grandeur is balanced out by funky new cafés, a thriving university scene and booming nightclubs in up-and-coming neighborhoods like Mile End and the Plateau.

The city abounds with examples of thoughtful urban planning, including underground shopping malls, for those cold winters, and lush parks in which to enjoy the summers. But visitors can still glimpse an earlier time, especially among the canals and warehouses lining the St. Lawrence River. Montreal is a city of distinct neighborhoods and fiercely proud character. There’s no better way to see it than strolling its narrow streets. You’ll uncover upscale boutiques and historic sites, often right next door to each other, and breathe in the heady aroma of french fries smothered in gravy and cheese curds, the ingredients of poutine, Montreal’s signature dish, which is served in even the swankiest joint. It may not sound so appealing, but it’s quite good. And yes, it will be on the test.

XO Restaurant at
Hotel Le St-James
Image – Peter Frank Edwards

DAY ONE Wake up in a four-poster bed at the very posh Hotel Le St-James (1) feeling like an Industrial-era trade baron. The St. James is in the former Merchants Bank, in what was once the hub of the city’s fur trade. As soon as you step outside, you picture 19th century tycoons parading by the imposing limestone façades whose grand columns line Rue Saint-Jacques. In fact, you notice a bit of swagger in your own step. But before you leave the hotel, put on your Sunday best, because you’re off to church. And not just any church. The Notre-Dame Basilica (2), a five-block stroll from the hotel, rivals the great cathedrals of Europe. Established in 1829, the church was built by an Irish Protestant architect imported from New York. He converted to Catholicism on his deathbed, perhaps so that he could be buried in his creation. Montreal was once a very Catholic city— count the steeples dotting the skyline—with the clergy having as much influence as elected officials. Like hairstyles, hemlines and pop music, that all changed in the ’60s, when the Quiet Revolution led to the secularization of government and education.

Notre-Dame Basilica
Image – Peter Frank Edwards

From the church, walk toward Place Jacques-Cartier (3)—a pedestrian square that was once the entrance to the city’s port, now thick with street performers and souvenir shops—and wander the cobbled alleyways off Rue Saint-Paul. Amid 18th century stone buildings such as the Chateau Ramezay, a former governor’s mansion that now serves as a repository of Quebec history, you’ll find lofts for a growing creative class. Be sure to stop by the three-year-old DHC/ART Foundation of Contemporary Art (4). Local visionary Phoebe Greenberg has created a platform for Canadian and international talent to stage exhibitions, workshops and lectures. After you’ve had your fill of highbrow culture, relax at Cluny Artbar (5), a former warehouse that’s been converted into a café. Take a seat at one of the establishment’s communal tables and order yourself a smoked salmon panino and extra-leaded espresso.

You’ll need the fuel for zipping around Montreal’s Old Port in some the city’s many bicycle lanes—just swipe your credit card at one of the 300 Bixi (think “bike” meets “taxi”) cycle-sharing kiosks all over town (open May through November). Wending your way along the Lachine Canal (6), lined with ferry terminals, quays and a huge concrete silo, you’ll get a glimpse of the city’s industrial past. Across the river, you spot Habitat 67. Designed for Expo 67, Montreal’s world’s fair, as a prototype for aff ordable housing, the structure looks like something dreamed up by Antoni Gaudí and built with Legos.

Rue Notre-Dame
Image – Peter Frank Edwards

You continue pedaling along the leafy Rue Notre-Dame and pass through Antiques Alley to Marché Atwater (7), a European-style foodmarket housed in an Art Deco building, complete with charcuteries, cheese shops and flower stalls. After a serious afternoon of bike riding and window shopping, you’ll want to sit down for a proper meal. Restaurateurs Frédéric Morin, Allison Cunningham and David McMillan have turned the neighborhood known as Little Burgundy into a culinary mecca. Settle on Joe Beef, the name of which belies the upscale fare inside, where you order such classics as Dungeness crab and seared scallops. The menu changes often, but the dishes are simple and bold, so the seafood flavors shine through.

Before you call it a night, head to Altitude 737 (8). In a city known for megaclubs, this is the swankiest, an ideal place to hobnob with Montreal’s most glamorous residents, enjoy a champagne cocktail and take in views of the city.

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Three Perfect Days: Sonoma

admin — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 06:00:42 +0000

AUTHOR SARAH HORNE

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WANDER THE STREETS OF AFFLUENT HEALDSBURG, the symbolic heart of Northern California’s Sonoma County, and there’s little doubt that these valleys and rolling green hills—once unkown—are now a world-class destination for oenophiles and food lovers. Among the winemakers and rugged fourth-generation locals, there are more and more glitzy types clad in linen or draped in cashmere, and they feel right at home. Sonoma has arrived.

To its detractors, hippie-dippy Sonoma is a cultural no-man’s land where oddball characters cavort in the hills. Of course, that’s exactly how the locals like it. After all, only the scrappiest of pioneers made their way to this stretch of the remote West, digging in and adapting to its dramatically varied microclimates. In the generations that followed, hardworking farmers, largely Italian-American immigrants, worked the land for lumber and produce. Importing their family winemaking traditions from the old country, they discovered something vital: The local wine was pretty darn good. Visitors soon began to understand all the fuss over the region’s soil and air, and all the care that’s put into everything produced here, from lettuce to cheese and wine.

Though Sonoma is quickly becoming the next big thing, it still contains many hidden corners you’ll feel as if you discovered on your own. And the locals, finding you off the beaten path, will welcome you with a wink, and let you imagine that you have.

DAY ONE
Hotel HealdsburgPull the dark wooden shutters wide and step out onto the balcony of your understatedly chic room at the Hotel Healdsburg 1.A trace of early morning fog envelopes the swank town’s plaza and its thick canopy of ancient redwoods. Soon, the mist dissipates, and the green of the trees deepens. Below you, farm trucks purr along West Street, bound for the vineyards of the Alexander Valley, Russian River Valley or Dry Creek Valley.

Descend to the hotel’s loftlike lobby and begin the day with a fitting breakfast of fresh granola and fruit. Out on Matheson Street, half a dozen spandex-clad athletes are preening themselves like baby-boomer birds of paradise, stretching for a day of biking on the winding roads of wine country. Before you embark on anything quite so ambitious, set out on foot and get your bearings in what’s now known as “Beverly Healdsburg.”

Stop in at Copperfield’s Books 2, an uncommonly good bookstore, which will reassure you that for all Sonoma County’s beguiling beauty, the place has brains as well. Pick up a copy of Steve Heimoff ’s A Wine Journey along the Russian River and thumb through it for background on the local soil. Go on to ponder the bountiful Californian lifestyle at Plaza Gourmet 3, where you run your hands longingly over copper cookware and cheese boards repurposed from retired wine barrels.

Jimtown StoreGetting further into the foodie frame of mind (this is what people live and breathe in Sonoma), you saunter off the main square to peruse the pickle bar at Love Farms 4 organic market on North Street, where the heirloom tomatoes on display are worthy of a photograph.

Arm yourself with a trusty Wine Road map and set off by car—in this case, a sleek Mercedes SLK 55 convertible—toward Highway 128, wending your way into the Alexander Valley to stop for lunch at the Jimtown Store 5, a cheerful clapboard shop that first opened its doors in 1895 and is now refreshed and stocked with local wines. Order the house specialty, a Brie-and-chopped-olive sandwich on a baguette, to go.

Picnic supplies in hand, make your way to the eco-friendly, ultramodern Ridge Vineyards 6 on Lytton Springs Road. Take a seat at one of the teak tables out back, surrounded by oak barrel planters overflowing with fresh rosemary and wildflowers, the rolling vineyards just a few feet away. Request a flight of wines (a.k.a., a tasting selection) to accompany lunch, and dig in. (If you prefer to actually drink than to taste, you can always arrange for a bus tour through www.sonomawinetours.net.)

Plaza GourmetAfterward, head to the Michel-Schlumberger Winery 7 in nearby Dry Creek Valley, and join the 2 p.m. tour, during which you’ll walk among the vines and ponder the meaning of terroir (or, heck, just enjoy the views from this quiet corner of the county). After a taste of their Deux Terres Cabernet Sauvignon, it’s back over the charming Lambert Bridge and home to Healdsburg.

Sequester yourself in the hotel’s hidden hot tub or indulge in a quick nap on your crisp Frette linens in preparation for an epic meal at the town’s finest dining establishment, the decadent Cyrus 8. With chef Douglas Keane, an alum of New York’s Lespinasse, helming the kitchen, reservations are a must. However, if you haven’t planned ahead (or aren’t game for Keane’s five-course culinary extravaganza), step up to the elegant bar and order a succulent porcini pot pie.

Take a postprandial stroll around the plaza before sinking into your plush bed and dreaming of repentance with plenty of aerobics…as soon as you get home, that is.

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Three Perfect Days: Riviera Maya

admin — Tue, 01 Dec 2009 06:00:32 +0000

AUTHOR MIKE GUY
PHOTOGRAPHY EHREN JOSEPH

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l LIKE ITS DIAMOND-STUDDED FRENCH NAMESAKE ALONG THE MEDITERRANEAN, the Riviera Maya—a stretch of coastline on the Yucatán Peninsula that reaches from just south of Cancún to the peaceful village of Tulum—is a shimmering white-sand playland of the well-to-do. But it can be experienced much more affordably than Monaco, Cap d’Antibes or even Venice. On this riviera, the main attractions aren’t Bianca Jagger in a tiara or even Matthew Perry carousing in St. Tropez, but instead mysterious, vast underwater sinkholes called cenotes, peaceful beachside palapas, a preponderance of yoga mats, and the granite tops of millennium-old Mayan ruins emerging from thick jungle canopies.

The region rode a rising tide of tourism for a decade, with visitors attracted by the Caribbean Coast’s quiet beauty and an abundance of calming retreats among the ruins of Tulum. But what with the recent economic situation, there are now spectacular deals to be had in luxury lodging, and the sites are relaxingly free of crowds. Serenity now.

The bar, a beachfront villaDAY ONE Wake up to the perfect stillness of the mangrove lagoon, and peer through the sheer voile drapes out onto the Caribbean Sea, grateful you didn’t stop in Cancún. Though it’s a great party town, Cancún fulfills a very specific need (i.e., to party). You’re more interested in taking in the area’s natural beauty, indulging in a bit of luxury and learning about the ancient Mayan culture. So you’ve opted to stay at the Rosewood Mayakoba 1, one of four completed resorts in a 240-acre development consortium, called Mayakoba, built with a reasonably light footprint behind the sandy dunes lining the placid sea. Though it’s just 40 minutes south of the rowdy clamor of Cancún’s zona hotelera, it might as well be another planet.

You climb to your private villa’s rooftop salon— complete with an invigorating plunge pool—and take note of the Greg Norman–designed El Cameleon golf course. For a moment, you’re tempted to play a round.

On the beach at AkumaInstead, hop into the Ford Escape hybrid you picked up at the airport Avis, and drive to Playa del Carmen, the bustling heart of the Riviera Maya. Once upon a time, Playa, as the locals call it, was a sleepy seaside pueblo of dirt lanes and huaracherias. Now, it’s wide awake. The crowded main thoroughfare, Avenida Quinta, gives off a highly cosmopolitan vibe. If you pass the Starbucks and Häagen-Dazs stores and the majority of the Mexican tchotchke shops, you can find plenty of interest along the way. There are chaya juice stands, taquerias and the Kumkum & Mezcal Room 2, where you can sample one of 150 of the best brands of firewater in the world.

The cabaña deck
at AzulikSampling is all you’ll be doing at this hour, of course, but grab a bottle of Arellana to go. Strolling farther, you come to 100% Natural 3, a healthy, happy and shady grotto set well back from the crowds on La Quinta. Take a seat among surfers and hippies, and order a salad of fresh camarones and piña and a couple of chicken tacos. Then while away the afternoon at the beach at the end of 12th Street, soaking in the vitamin D and surf scene before dinner.

Ever wonder what the ancient Mayans used to eat? Of course you have. It’s time to find out at Yaxche 4, where you sit before the bewitching altar of an ancient Mayan divinity and order a heaping portion of tikin xic, a flaky fillet of locally snagged grouper marinated in achiote paste and served on banana leaves.

Playa’s Zenzi Beach BarNow it’s time to saunter along Playa’s storied playa. You weave among the lovers and the late-night swimmers until you hit the Zenzi Beach Bar 5, a local favorite that hosts movies in the sand on a wide-screen TV every Monday at 8 p.m. You grab a reclining seat and take in a few minutes of The Shining as the moon shines above the sea. “Aqui estaaaa Juanito!”

Getting up to order a drink, you confide in the bartender that as much as you love Kubrick, you’d prefer to dance a little salsa. She recommends Coco Bongo 6, a popular night club on 10th Avenue and 12th Street. Cross La Quinta, which is now a tangle of well-lubricated tourists and roving mariachi trios, and soon find yourself sweating under the disco ball. On the way back to the hotel, you stop at the local favorite, HC de Monterrey 7, for some steak tacos smothered in black chile sauce so fiery your mouth will still be tingling as your head hits the pillow.

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Three Perfect Days: New Orleans

admin — Sun, 01 Nov 2009 06:00:46 +0000

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Four years after the storm that left it reeling, New Orleans is finally recovering its stride. And then some…

EVER SINCE THIS STEAMY DELTA CITY ON THE GULF OF MEXICO WAS FOUNDED IN 1718, New Orleans has been home to swells, vagabonds, riverboat captains, spice merchants and Emeril Lagasse. The residents are famously easygoing (hence, the Big Easy), the pace slow enough to soothe those seeking refuge from “the real world.” As a figure in literature, New Orleans is as fertile as Paris (Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler honeymooned here; A Confederacy of Dunces hot dog lover Ignatius J. Reilly prowled the French Quarter). Every year, the parades on Fat Tuesday induce near-riots of libidinous bead-tossing along Bourbon Street. Few who enter New Orleans leave the same. It has, as the song goes, “been the ruin of many a poor boy.”

Since the devastation wrought by Hurricane Katrina in 2005, it’s taken some time for Nola to get back on its feet. Now, the rebirth is in full swing. The city is the fastest-growing in the United States, with a staggering level of inventiveness and creative hubbub. Nevermind Emeril; young chefs are injecting new life into a culinary scene that had become overly reliant on French staples and Cajun clichés, and armies of musicians in straw fedoras have reignited the nightclub scene. Newcomers are flocking here (including The Wire creator David Simon, whose forthcoming HBO series, Treme, is set in the city), and thousands who fled in the storm’s aftermath are returning, proving their undying love for this singular metropolis. To be sure, some parts of town are inhospitable to visitors, but for the most part, Nola has its groove back. In fact, in some ways the new New Orleans might just be even better than the old one.

Old-time
riverboatDAY ONE Start your jaunt at the Soniat House 1, a boutique hotel made up of three splendid Victorian-era townhouses in the lower Quarter. For breakfast, venture no farther than the courtyard for a mug of dark and earthy chicory coff ee and biscuits warmed on hot stones. Then walk to the heart of the French Quarter. Start your visit at Arcadian Books & Art Prints 2, a hole in the wall with towering stacks of French and Louisiana-centric literature, where you’ll pick up a reissue of New Orleans City Guide 1938 and marvel at how little the city has changed over the years.

Walk a few blocks south to historic Jackson Square 3, the Quarter’s bustling geographical heart. Just beyond is St. Louis Cathedral and the Cabildo, an imposing 18th century edifice that houses the Louisiana State Museum. Step inside to check out the fantastic exhibit “From Tramps to Kings: 100 Years of Zulu,” which chronicles the centurylong history of the Zulu Social Aid and Pleasure Club, a mainstay of the annual Fat Tuesday parade.

The Royal CaféPass through touristy Pirates Alley to the outskirts of Jackson Square for lunch at Stanley 4. Since opening in the fall of 2008, Stanley (as in Kowalski, from A Streetcar Named Desire) has rewritten the sandwich rules in this po’ boy–centric town. The kitchen whips out masterful modern interpretations of deli standards like the Reuben. For dessert, challenge yourself with the “Stella Uptown Sundae,” a dangerous blend of carrot cake, three scoops of rum raisin ice cream, sweet cream cheese sauce, whipped cream and a cherry. Waddle slowly to the river side of Jackson Square to Café Du Monde 5, a round-the-clock institution that’s been serving beignets and the same chicory coffee blend since the Civil War.

Arcadian Books Ask for a café au lait (the beignets will have to wait a day, but your waistline will thank you), then stroll along the river to the Louisiana Music Factory 6. Here you’ll browse this sprawling record store specializing in the state’s great musical traditions, from zydeco to jazz, as cuts from one of the current local stars—John Boutté or Glen David Andrews—play from the speakers. As dusk approaches, take a long walk to the outermost edge of the French Quarter and the Tennessee Williams house 7. Though it’s not open to the public, this troubled playwright’s 19th century mansion is a classic example of New Orleans architecture, and steeped in history. Williams lived here from 1962 until his death in 1983, and a plaque out front quotes his autobiography: “I hope to die in my sleep…in this beautiful big brass bed in my New Orleans.” (’Twas not to be: Williams died in a New York hotel.)

Donna’s Bar & Grill At chow time, you go to the Green Goddess 8, a funky spot with psychedelic copper wallpaper on tiny Exchange Place. Since the May opening, chef Chris DeBarr has created perhaps the most unconventional menu in New Orleans; highlights include “Spooky” blue corn crepes filled with a rare Aztec corn fungus called huitlacoche and fresh Louisiana blue crabmeat served on pillows of crispy angel hair pasta and green tea broth. Afterward, you’re happily obliged to wind down the night at Donna’s Bar and Grill 9, a hole-in-the-wall club at the edge of the Quarter where you’ll find some of the best jazz in the city. If you’re lucky, the boisterous Treme Brass Band will be playing, with “Uncle Lionel” Batiste on the bass drum.

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Three Perfect Days: Shanghai

admin — Thu, 01 Oct 2009 06:00:05 +0000

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SHANGHAI. JUST THE WORD CONJURES IMAGES OF DECADENCE AND GLAMOUR: the Opium Wars, gambling dens, Jazz Age expats and spies from all corners trading secrets as champagne flowed. This portrait of Shanghai took hold in the popular imagination in the ’20s and ’30s as the city, then one of the most cosmopolitan in the world, gained an international reputation as the exotic Eastern hub of trade, finance, fashion and intrigue. Then World War II broke out, and the party stopped; the Communists took over in 1949 and all but shut down outside commerce in Shanghai for decades. These days, the largest city in China—and with some 19 million residents, one of the largest in the world—is once again the most vibrant. Its coming-out party is next summer’s World Expo, an extravaganza expected to make Shanghai a focus of world attention for six months. What sights will greet visitors? Vertigo-inducing, blinking skyscrapers, teeming bars and top-shelf restaurants, a thriving art scene and shop-houses filled with haute designers. Not to worry: Though Shanghai is reborn, it still seems like old times.

The Bund at night DAY ONE You wake up in Puxi, Shanghai’s swank central district, throw open the shades and take in what may be the best view in the city, from the Hyatt on the Bund 1, a modern, airy hotel overlooking the stately former European bank buildings that make up the small, well-touristed neighborhood called the Bund (an Urdu word imported by British traders). To the left you see the arc of the busy Huangpu River, and to the right the bizarro towers of the financial district known as Pudong (Puxi denizens refer to this workmanlike burg as “Pu Jersey”).

In the hotel lobby, you’re struck by the sheer breadth and depth of the grand breakfast buffet, a furious amalgam of pancakes, stir-fried Shanghai noodles and dumplings that seems to extend forever. You quickly decide not to linger and instead grab a fresh, flaky pastry and bracing coffee and meet up with Spencer Dodington, director of Luxury Concierge China, who gives you a brief overview of the city and an introductory walk.

A colonial clock towerIt’s hard to overstate the colonial opulence on display in the Bund. The buildings are referred to by number, and their architecture reflects the piles of money made by traders in the ’20s. You marvel at the gilded columns, intricate marble floors and gold-lined skylight in No. 24 2, once a Japanese bank but now the Industrial and Commercial Bank of China. No. 12 3 was built in 1923 with the intention of dominating the neighborhood. Mission accomplished: The result is so stunning that Communist Party elders grabbed No. 12 as their prized local headquarters in 1955.

Elsewhere on the Bund, the swank new Chinese style is on display. No. 18 4, home to Zegna and Cartier, has enormous, glowing red Murano chandeliers. Once inside, browse the shelves of the clothes shop Younik, which stocks all the best current Chinese designers. The dramatic cuts and lush fabrics will make you question China’s reputation as the land of cheap knockoffs.

Mao notebooks at the
Dongtai Lu antiques marketNow you’re wondering, What other myths do I need to investigate? Head south to the Old City in search of Shanghai’s most delicious creation, the soup dumpling. You find the dim sum emporium, Din Tai Fung 5, and order the pork and crab dumpling. It isn’t the tidiest of meals, but they’re worth the mess. (Tip for beginners: Cradle the dumpling in the ceramic spoon and make a small incision with your teeth; as broth then burbles into the spoon, slurp it slowly before gobbling the rest.) The dumpling, you realize, is anything but a knockoff.

Walk to Yu Garden 6, a 400-year-old oasis of pebbly ponds, wisteria and ginkgo trees, jade rock formations and dozens of peaceful pavilions—some quite whimsically named, like the “Pavilion for Viewing Frolicking Fish” (yes, they frolic). Then dash through the knickknack bazaar to the newly restored 15th century Chenghuang Miao, Temple of the City God, which protects the spirits of the departed citizens of Shanghai. Light a stick of incense, and on the way out watch a medicinal healer tap a hopeful customer’s head with a bundle of herbs—an ancient remedy. You briefly consider a dose, but it’s only day one, and things are going well. So far.

Biking the streets of ShanghaiDinnertime comes at you fast. Luckily, the hotel concierge already made reservations for you at Shintori Null 2 7, a minimalist hipster mecca serving expert sushi in a neighborhood du jour known as the French Concession. Pass through a narrow grove of bamboo trees and enter the former factory space. The ceilings are high enough to hush the crowds, and the sashimi and tempura are fresh, simple and light, a perfect counterpoint to the soup dumplings. Afterward, drop into the JZ Club 8 nearby, where a swing band is firing up. The club is dark, crowded and smoky, a paean to the Prohibition era. After a couple of drinks, you’re transported back to a roaring world you thought disappeared with Louise Brooks. But it’s late, so you step outside, back to 2009, and hail a cab home.

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Three Perfect Days: Budapest

admin — Tue, 01 Sep 2009 06:00:00 +0000

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Flick through any history of Budapest and it’s abundantly clear that for every flourishing of the arts and architecture, for every golden decade filled with pastries and sweet coffee and endless conversation, residents have had to endure less lovely periods. It’s no wonder Budapestians have a reputation for telling it like it is. Suffering invasions by the Turks, the Germans and the Communists, the city’s denizens developed a taste for both decadence and rebellion, tempered by a hefty dash of sunny resignation.

And yet, in spite of it all, Budapest is flourishing again, its grand buildings refaced, its pitted streets once more lined with Belgian blocks, its edgy spirit thriving in unexpected corners. But don’t worry—the city’s rebirth hasn’t diminished its bohemian dreaminess. Hollywood couldn’t have concocted a more evocative, nostalgic scene. All you have to do is step into one of the city’s smoke-filled bars, where locals squabble good-naturedly until dawn. Or you can take in the buildings skirting the Danube (which splits the city in two: Buda and Pest), all moody in the hazy afternoon light. Budapest is moving forward, but its heady past is everywhere.

And rest assured—the shopkeepers are still delightfully surly.

1 | DAY ONE Channel the minor European aristocrat within as you wake up under starched sheets at The Gresham Palace 1, a 1906 Art Nouveau masterpiece ravaged during World War II and restored to its former glory in 2004 by Four Seasons. Descend to the lobby and linger for a while, transported back to the height of Budapest’s Golden Age, when The Gresham’s shopping arcade was filled with every fop and dandy worth knowing.

HIT THE DECK!
A peaceful nook at the
Lánchíd 19 Design Hotel

Steel yourself for a day of walking with a carafe of strong coffee, fresh bread, cheeses and dried meats—vegans beware, you’re in Hungary now—at the Gresham Kávéház, where British bankers in pinstripes seal their investment deals with a handshake. Step through the whimsical peacock-adorned wrought-iron gates and out into the city.

Cross on foot from Pest, the commercial 19th-century city, to Buda, its leafy, medieval counterpart, by way of the landmark Széchenyi Lánchíd (Chain Bridge) 2 and keep your eyes out for the façade of the Lánchíd 19 Design Hotel 3, a cutting-edge building designed by Hungarian architects and artists on the Buda side of the river. Its high-tech shutters move constantly in response to the shifting daylight, rippling like translucent fish scales. Ascend to Castle Hill on the quirky funicular railway and set about exploring Várhegy, the tourism nerve center, before the crowds gather.

After surveying the cobbled streets and taffy-hued cottages, wander over to the Fisherman’s Bastion 4, a purposeless fantasia erected at the start of the 20th century to evoke medieval ramparts, and take in the stunning views of Pest and the Gothic Revival Parliament building across the river through the arches. Inevitably, a charmingly impoverished music student nearby is playing a mournful tune on his violin.

Before you give up on the ever-so-slightly artificial-seeming Buda, take a taxi down the hill to Krisztina Tér and lunch at the landmark Café Déryné, a 1914 coffeehouse and patisserie once frequented by Budapest’s literati and now restored and refreshed as a funky French-Hungarian bistro. Watch local swells flit about in scarves and horn-rimmed glasses as you dunk fresh-baked bread into finely spiced pumpkin soup.

Next, hop onto the No. 18 tram. Alight from the kitschy buttercup-yellow vehicle in front of the Hotel Gellért 5, named for an 11th century Italian bishop who was martyred when he was rolled from the heights of Gellért Hill inside a barrel lined with nails. (Ouch!) Cheered by this news, enter the dramatic 1918 building and follow signs marked “swimming pool”—a vast understatement. Pass through the turnstile into the amazing tiled baths, don a bathing cap and do some laps with the local gentry before slipping into hot and cold underground pools. The ritual will leave you pleasantly befuddled and invigorated.

POOL PLAYERS
Immersed in the
timeless thermal baths

Back on the Pest side of the river, don some stylish duds and take a stroll down the pedestrianized Zrínyi Utca, the imposing St. Stephen’s Basilica 6 looming before you. Walk a few short blocks to Café Kör 7, a wood-paneled institution with clubby green library lights where the night’s Hungarian dinner specials are scrawled on a sheet of craft paper on the wall. Order wine from the Lake Balaton region, a hearty plate of chicken paprikas and rice, and sit back and wonder how you can possibly consume portions this large for the next 48 hours.

After imbibing a postdinner sour cherry pálinka, waddle back to your hotel absurdly sated, and sleep like a baby.

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3 Perfect Days Victoria, B.C.

admin — Sat, 01 Aug 2009 06:00:48 +0000

VICTORIA IS QUIET. ALMOST TOO QUIET. Stand near the grandiose Parliament building at the Inner Harbor, and it’s impossible to imagine that this perfectly mannered island city was once a rough-and-tumble gold mining hub, a sprawling carnival of disorder populated by industrious native Inuit and Métis traders, miners, Chinese opium smugglers, thieves and all manner of accompanying riff raff .

But today, all that remains of those times are the First Nations, descendants of the area’s original tribal inhabitants. The carnival is gone, replaced by a town as charming and peaceful as it was once restless. As for the riff raff, let’s just say they retired. In fact, of today’s 78,000 resident Victorians, a disproportionately large number are seniors, drawn by the region’s remarkably mild weather, which allows for year-round gardening and golf. Some call Victoria “the Boca of Canada,” but anyone who expects swarms of battery-powered Rascal scooters and blue-hairs lining up for the early-bird special will be surprised. The city exudes youthful energy. Cyclists, kayakers and avid joggers abound. And if there is an early-bird special to be found, chances are it’s made with organic, locally grown produce.

Victoria still retains some of its frontier town DNA. Sure, the tempo is a touch more subdued, but First Nations people remain an integral part of Victoria’s community and cultural life, and the area’s roots can be seen in its raw, breathtaking surroundings: the jagged Olympic Mountains, the dramatic Strait of Juan de Fuca and the rolling Pacific beyond. There are still pioneers here; they’re just better fed and far more civilized.

The Inner Harbor, with
the stone parapets of
Parliament in the
distance1 | DAY ONE You awaken in your room on the top floor of 1 The Oswego , a sleek boutique hotel in the quiet neighborhood of James Bay. From the balcony you breathe in the warm air and scan the snow-crested Olympic mountain range and the Strait of Juan de Fuca, a 95-mile passage that connects Puget Sound with the Pacific. In the O Bistro café downstairs, have a coffee and some fresh strawberries, then saunter down to the harbor and the core of Old Town.

Victoria is the capital of British Columbia, a fact that’s impossible to overlook as you reach the waterfront. Towering above you, the iconic copper-domed 2 Parliament is an exemplar of Baroque and Romanesque architecture, so well wrought it could serve as the backdrop of a bodice-ripper. Francis Mawson Rattenbury, a star-crossed English architect, moved to Vancouver in 1891 and designed the legislature, which was completed seven years later. (Perhaps he should have retired in Victoria: His second wife’s lover murdered him in London in 1935.)

A quiet moment in
Beacon Hill ParkSeagulls scatter as you descend Parliament’s steps to the Inner Harbor’s long promenade. Hawker stalls sell First Nation–inspired feathered dream catchers and beaded jewelry and generally bad art. You do the right thing and walk on past it.

A century ago, steamships were tied up along docks now crowded with yachts. Back then, members of the British royal family visited regularly, arriving by boat and climbing the nearby steps to the grand 3 Fairmont Empress Resort Hotel. An ivy-clad classical chateau with turrets and other gothic touches, the Fairmont was also built by poor Rattenbury, whose ghost is said to haunt its hallways. (See “Ghostly Victoria,” page 83.)

Barking at the paragliders
along Dallas RoadFollow Queen Elizabeth’s footsteps up toward the Fairmont and then make your way down Wharf Street to 4 Willie’s Bakery & Café, British Columbia’s oldest bakery. Willie’s is often patronized by celebs taking breaks from film shoots in Vancouver— high-watt personae like Pamela Anderson, Colin Firth and Bill Nighy (who even has a special jar of jam kept for him under the coff ee counter).

Have a shot of espresso; you’re going shopping. In 5 Lower Johnson Street (a.k.a. LoJo), a hip enclave peppered with independent shops, you find Hemingway, a girly boutique filled with silky dresses, perfectly cut shifts and necklaces heavy with charms. A few doors down is Hemp & Company, which makes everything out of you guessed it, and beyond that is Flavour, a vintage clothier that’ll tempt you with such gems as $15 Doc Martens (a perfect gift for your nephew, the one who recently discovered eyeliner).

the regal Fairmont
Empress, designed
by the same architect
who drafted ParliamentYou’ve done your family duty; now it’s time for some culture. Make a left at Government Street and step through the ornate Gate of Harmonious Interest and into the oldest Chinatown in Canada (and the second oldest in North America, after San Francisco’s). Bypass the bustling dim sum joints and head to 6 Fan Tan Alley, officially the continent’s narrowest commercial lane, to take in the locally produced artworks at Studio 16 ½. Next door on this wee thoroughfare is the highly esoteric Triple Spiral Metaphysical Store, the proprietor of which is a practicing Wiccan. It’s said that the city has more witches per capita than anywhere in Canada. Spooky.

To calm your nerves, you’ll want something hearty for lunch. Try Fort Street, home to several eateries and still more antique shops. 7 Choux Choux Charcuterie catches your eye, and the hearty pheasant paté sandwich with caramelized onions and tangy Dijon will set you back only $6.

Simple dishes at the
brewpub SpinnakersDouble back down Fort Street and stop in at 8 Silk Road Aromatherapy & Tea Co., where you can sip some hand-blended pu-erh tea while you wait your turn for a signature green tea facial. (You, too, guys. Good skincare knows no gender.) Then make your way to The Fairmont Empress for a predinner drink on the veranda. Try the Empress 1908 Cocktail, or, if you’re in the mood for something spicy, Rattenbury’s Bloody Caesar, made with housemade tomato and clam juice.

Hail a taxi to 9 Spinnakers, a brewpub opened in 1984—Canada’s first—and dig into grilled line-caught Pacific salmon. Spinnaker’s has a 280-degree view of the harbor and a lively after-dinner scene. After downing a couple of powerful Canadian brews with your festive new Victorian pals, it occurs to you gauzily that the remaining 80 degrees are taken up by the massive brewing vats.

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Three Perfect Days, Sydney

admin — Wed, 01 Jul 2009 06:00:05 +0000

WHEN THE FIRST EUROPEAN SETTLERS WASHED ASHORE IN SYDNEY, they found it so inhospitable they weighed anchor, making camp ten miles north, where downtown now stands. There, battling famine, drought and disease, they nearly died off trying to farm the sun-baked land and tame the elements. If only those beleaguered pioneers could see Sydney today. Ferries and pleasure boats cruise the azure waters of a harbor framed by skyscrapers and, beyond that, leafy suburbs that roll like breakers to the coast. In few major cities is the natural environment and its raw beauty so fully on display as it is here; it’s as if the city understands how remote it is from the rest of the world and has amplified its charms to catch our attention. Natives of restrained Melbourne might consider Sydney too flashy, but where else but in this beach town–with-brains do bankers and hard-bodied surfers coexist in such harmony? (The secret: As often as not, they’re the same people.) And while the local motto may be “No worries,” a measured, hardworking temperament keeps the city from slipping into resort-town frivolity. It’s the right of locals the world over to champion their city as the most beautiful in the world, but when a Sydneysider says it, you might find yourself agreeing.

Sailboats on Sydney
HarbourDAY ONE The British settled Sydney in 1788, when a group of convicts and their guards, led by Capt. Arthur Phillip, finally sailed into the harbor—and that’s where you’ll drop anchor, too. Check into the 1 Sydney Harbour Marriott, a gleaming high-rise that straddles the border between the waterfront and the steel towers of the Central Business District, or CBD. Is this the hippest hotel in town? Nope. (That’s a place called Establishment.) But you can’t beat the central location or bend-over-backward service, and if you ask for a room with a harbor view on a high floor, you’ll thank yourself for resisting the boutique hotel trend.

Jogger on Bondi BeachShake off your jet lag (did we mention it’s a darn long flight from just about anywhere?) with a stroll through the 2 Royal Botanic Gardens. Lush with exotic plants like the Wollemi Pine, a Jurassic-era tree discovered only 15 years ago in the nearby Blue Mountains, the gardens also showcase another native species—namely, fitness-crazed Sydneysiders out for a morning jog. Good for them, but you’re going to breakfast. Head to the Andrew “Boy”

Charlton Pool, an open-air swimming pool at the gardens’ eastern edge named for an Aussie who won gold in the 1924 Olympics. At the Poolside Café, dig into a heaping plate of eggs and bacon and watch the swimmers ticking off laps against the backdrop of the extravagantly named Woolloomooloo Bay.

Head back into the gardens, keeping both eyes peeled for the grey-headed flying fox, which isn’t a fox at all, but a big and creepy bat that roosts in the trees. Just north of Government House, you’ll catch sight of the majestic 3 Sydney Opera House.

Harry’s Café de WheelsCompleted in 1973, this unmistakable modernist masterwork, with a design that echoes sails cutting across the bay, is rivaled only by the kangaroo and the shrimp-laden barbie as Australia’s national symbol. All Sydneysiders know its creation story—an unknown Danish architect, Jorn Utzon, wins the commission, falls out with officials over rising costs, quits the project and leaves Australia a tormented man, just like his fellow Dane, Hamlet.

He’s re-embraced by planners in his final years and consults on renovations in 2004. You’ll learn all this on the tour, which ends at the pricey outdoor Opera Bar. Bridle though you may at the cost of the cold lager, as you take in the views showcasing the design genius of both man and Mother Nature, you’ll conclude that youthinks you doth protest too much.

The Circular Quay
forms the hub of
Sydney’s bustling
harborThe history lesson isn’t over yet. Navigate your way through the bustle of Circular Quay, a kind of Grand Central Station for ferries (tossing spare change to the half-naked guys playing the didgeridoo, the aboriginal wind instrument, is strictly optional) and wander around the Rocks. The city’s oldest neighborhood, it was built by convicts, and its charming streets are appropriately crooked. Half a dozen pubs here claim to be Sydney’s first—among them the 4 Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel, with sandstone walls and small-batch homebrews including Nelson’s Blood. After a pint, head to 5 Cafe Sydney, a chic rooftop spot with a clear shot of the Harbour Bridge (views in Sydney are like bottles of wine in Burgundy: abundant, yet you’ll want to drink up every one).

As the sun descends, walk back to the hotel, change into your party duds and catch a cab to Kings Cross, the go-to spot since the 1960s for club crawlers and visiting sailors. The red-light district is tamer now than when the reputed gangster Abe Saffron, a.k.a. “The Boss of the Cross,” ran the action. But you’ll still find a frenetic strip of bars and nightclubs that range from roughneck to ritzy, like the 6 Piano Room —a cocktail lounge one story up with live music and a wall of windows overlooking the chaos below. Afterward, amble a block over to Hugo’s Lounge, a packed club with the glossy look of a hip-hop video set, and dance until the jetlag slows you down. By now it’s after midnight, i.e., time for a meat pie at 7 Harry’s Café de Wheels, a food shack that’s served up Australia’s staple dishes since the 1930s. Order the Tiger (a pastry filled with beef and topped with peas and potatoes). Russell Crowe keeps an apartment on the wharf here. Watch for falling cell phones.

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Three Perfect Days, San Diego

admin — Mon, 01 Jun 2009 06:00:42 +0000

SOMEWHERE, ETCHED IN THE FAR REACHES OF YOUR MIND, there’s an indelible image of San Diego. In this imagined place, the views are invariably cinematic, sweeping down the coast and over its sandy bluffs to the vast Pacific, where surfers bob in the water, awaiting the perfect wave. In your dreams, it’s a place where the sky is always blue, the freeways glint with expensive cars, and the people are all improbably beautiful. For San Diegans, who are rightly cheerful about their lot in life, this idyll is simply a place called home.

Known for its laid-back spirit, San Diego is a lifestyle mecca without the palpable ambitions of Los Angeles and unfettered by the foggy moodiness encircling San Francisco. Instead it’s a quiet surf town rendered on a grand scale, a place where vestiges of 1920s Americana sleepily coexist with chic beach bars, Mission-style neighborhoods and untamed natural spaces. As locals never tire of pointing out, apparently there’s also a zoo. But please—zoos are for the birds, am I right?

Gaslamp Quarter

DAY ONE The very grown-up 1Ivy Hotel is, at first glance, the sort of luxe urban playpen you’d expect to find in Manhattan or Miami. But step out of the modish lobby, where staff ers rush about, whispering into invisible headsets, and you know you’re in SoCal. “Have a great day!” the muscled doormen boom earnestly and in unison, blinding you with movie-star teeth.

After talking up a visit to the rooftop pool, earpiece-wearing Doorman No. 1 points you to Cafe 222 for breakfast. It’s a short jaunt through the Gaslamp Quarter, a recently gentrifi ed downtown neighborhood peopled with jeans-clad locals walking yellow Labs. At the turn of the last century, this area was a notorious red light district known as “Stingaree” (so named for the fearsome local stingrays), a haven for colorful gamblers like Wyatt Earp, hard-drinking seamen, Chinese opium dealers and the occasional tourist (they rarely escaped without getting stung). One charming local establishment was called The Seven Buckets of Blood. But that history seems pretty remote as you sit down to a calorific plate of corned-beef hash or peanut butter–stuff ed waffles on bright Fiesta Ware. While this gut-busting fare admittedly presents certain dangers, there’s not an Old West outlaw in sight.

Boomer Beach near La
Jolla Cove

Even in crunchy California, the car is still king, and you’ve already arranged a rental. (Bypass the economy model, for heaven’s sake, and get yourself a sweet ride—an Audi A4 convertible should do nicely.) Then dive into the spirit of things with a cruise up to Point Loma, a rugged headland that juts into the Pacific. After winding your way up the hills, park near the 2 Cabrillo National Monument , honoring Juan Rodriguez Cabrillo, the Portuguese explorer who anchored at this spot in 1542 while on a mission for Spain. However dashing Cabrillo may have been, the real draw is the spectacular Pacifi c, fl ecked with sailboats, and the hills of Baja California, Mexico, to the south, best viewed from the lighthouse. Then enjoy a stroll along the winding Bayside Trail, with its fragrant coastal sagebrush and wildflowers. Just mind the rattlesnakes, and try to retain your dignity as power-walking grandmas in organic loungewear speed past you on the steep incline back up the hill.

Cabrillo National Monument

As a reward for your virtuous morning, take a detour to El Zarape, a casual hole in the wall in nearby 3 University Heights, where you’ll snag a bottle of Pacifico and a coveted seat out on the sidewalk. Catch your breath over a plate of no-frills scallop tacos, served unceremoniously on a Styrofoam plate, and watch the neighborhood’s attractive thirtysomethings stroll unhurriedly down Park Boulevard (don’t these people have somewhere to be?). Make your way to the corner of Fifth Avenue and University Avenue, where a delightfully kitschy electric sign—erected in 1940—arches over the street announcing your arrival in 4 Hillcrest. Window shop in the dappled light along Fifth Avenue, where creative types pick up threads at Wear It Again Sam, a vintage boutique, and thumb through literary novels and art monographs at Fifth Avenue Books. Stop in for an Arnold Palmer at Crest Cafe on Robinson.

A dish at
Crescent Heights

As the daylight begins to wane, you head back to the Ivy, where the sundowner scene is hopping at the hotel’s rooftop bar. Order a “Cougar” cocktail—grapefruit juice and Grey Goose—and settle in on your chaise to observe the local mating rituals, which seem to require very small bikinis for the gals and Billabong surf shorts for the guys. In the golden late-afternoon light, your blond server is tanned to precisely the right shade of toasted almond. “Have you checked out the zoo?” she wonders. Smile as you slip into the aquamarine swimming pool, which feels reassuringly like a warm bath.

Sensing you’re as sun-kissed and laid-back as a local, you walk several blocks to dinner at 5 Crescent Heights, a sleek downtown restaurant where chef David McIntyre, who trained at Spago under Wolfgang Puck, serves up light-as-air seafood and a sublime salad of burrata cheese and baby beets. The restaurant embodies cutting-edge California modern, but as you head back to your hotel, casting your eye over the 1915 Mission-style train station, the Santa Fe Depot, you can’t help but remember you’re in a frontier town. Scan the sidewalk hopefully for gold dust.

From top, photographs by Glowcam/eStock
Photo, Joanne Dibona (2), Ramona D’Viola

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Three Perfect Days, Moscow

admin — Fri, 01 May 2009 06:00:04 +0000

Nowadays, they brag about having the most billionaires, the tallest buildings or the most expensive hotels. And while Russia has been hit hard by the world economic crisis (Forbes.com recently said that Moscow is home to “only” 27 billionaires, as opposed to 74 last year), decadence and luxury still rule the day.

It’s time to discover it. Though a sprawling metropolis of 10.4 million people, Moscow’s core is mercifully compact. The city radiates out from the Kremlin, its geographic and cultural heart, and almost everything of interest, from ancient onion domes to strikingly contemporary skyscrapers, is located nearby. In Moscow, a city of constant change, every day is different.

The dining room at Hotel
Baltschug Kempinski

DAY ONE Russians like to say that you can’t understand Russia with your head. That’s certainly true of hotel prices. While they’ve come back down to earth a little in recent months, Moscow’s hotels are notoriously expensive. At less than $600, the five-star Swissôtel Krasnye Holmy is an excellent choice. And in terms of location, it’s hard to beat the five-star neoclassical 1 Hotel Baltschug Kempinski, a relative bargain at around $700 a night. Just as well you’re only here for three days.

Its lobby serves as something of an informal club for the country’s elite. But more importantly for your purposes, the Baltschug sits on the banks of the Moscow River and looks across to the two most iconic buildings in Russia: the 2 Kremlin and the chromatic onion domes of 3 St. Basil’s Cathedral.

There’s no need to stray far for your first breakfast in Mother Russia. At the Café Kranzler downstairs, you can sample traditional Russian fare for about $20. Try the sirniki (cottage-cheese fritters) and blini (pancakes), which you should smother liberally with smetana (sour cream) or varenia (jam).

A prime example of traditional
blini

Step out onto Sofiyskaya Embankment, and you’ll notice right away that there aren’t any taxis. Actually, Moscow is crawling with gypsy cabs—locals just stick out their hand until a car stops to haggle over the price of a trip. However, you should avoid this unless you enjoy flouting traffic rules with a driver who chain-smokes cheap cigarettes and shouts geopolitical theories over a Russian crooner blaring on blown speakers. As a rule, it’s much easier—and more peaceful—to walk, take the Metro or have the concierge order a licensed taxi.

If Moscow is the center of Russia, the hub of Moscow is the Kremlin and Red Square. Weather permitting (and quite often it isn’t) you’re in for an easy morning walk across Bolshoi Moskvoretsky Bridge, which leads straight to them.

As you cross the bridge, you’ll have just enough elevation to get a sense of the massive scale of the Kremlin’s unmistakable red walls. You’ll also get a sense of just how schizophrenic modern Russia can be. The Kremlin’s towers are still topped by red stars, symbols of revolutionary Soviet power. But right next door on Red Square, the ornate Iberian Gate is topped with two-headed eagles, a traditional czarist symbol.

St. Basil’s Cathedral

St. Basil’s stands between the bridge and Red Square. The onion domes, intense colors and unlikely textures of this magnificent cathedral add credence to the legend that Ivan the Terrible had its architect blinded so that he could never make anything else as beautiful. That said, Ivan, a particularly vicious 16th century czar who killed his own son in a fit of rage, probably didn’t spend much time inside praying. The interior holds little more than dimly lit, cramped chapels and isn’t worth the long line.

On the other side is Red Square, a vast, empty expanse best suited for military parades. It’s recently been discovered that some of the impossibly big missiles that used to roll by stone-faced Communist functionaries were, in fact, fakes made to frighten the West. Judging by the size of the nuclear arsenals both sides ultimately built, the intimidation tactics worked. In May of last year, for the first time since the collapse of the Soviet Union, Russia resurrected the tradition of showing off its heavy weaponry at the annual Victory Day parade. But on most days, Red Square is the domain of tourists.

Those looking for a more macabre activity are urged to line up to see the pickled leader of the Russian Revolution, Vladimir I. Lenin. His mausoleum is in the center of Red Square, next to the Kremlin walls. The goateed revolutionary doesn’t look bad for someone who’s been dead nearly 90 years, but it’s probably for the best the lights are kept low.

Opposite Lenin and the Kremlin is 4 GUM, a stunning 19th century shopping mall with three glass-roofed arcades and several floors of high-end boutiques. One of the more entertaining stores is Gastronom No. 1, a gourmet supermarket done up in Soviet style. With even the security guards dressed in vintage suits, the only things not Soviet are the high prices. (Somehow it’s hard to imagine heroes of the working class spending $10 on artisan bread.) If Gastronom No. 1 awakens your appetite, stop for lunch at Bosco Café, a stylish Italian joint where you can munch on panini for about $30.

The Kremlin, viewed from
across
the Moscow River

It’s time to visit the Kremlin, the official residence of the Russian president and the oldest part of Moscow. The highlight here is the Assumption Cathedral with its five golden domes. As you walk the grounds, check out the Tsar Bell (the largest in the world, it cracked before anyone got a chance to ring it), the Armory (which houses such royal extravagances as jewel-encrusted thrones and Fabergé eggs) and the Diamond Fund Exhibition. Anyone who thinks rappers popularized bling should check out the 190-carat diamond belonging to Czarina Catherine the Great.

After several hours inside the Kremlin, you’ll need a rest, so hop a taxi back to your room. Then it’s off to one of Moscow’s newest luxury hotels, the over-thetop, $350 million Ritz-Carlton. Here, head straight up to the glitzy rooftop 5 O2 Lounge and enjoy views of Red Square as you get drinking advice from one of the world’s only vodka sommeliers. On Moscow’s impossibly long summer evenings, when the sun goes down well after 10, the rooftop terrace is one of the most popular hangouts for Moscow’s beautiful people. But don’t get too comfortable—even though O2 has excellent sushi, you didn’t come to Moscow for the seafood.

the typically opulent
Komsomoloskaya
Metro
station

Instead, take a 10-minute stroll down Tverskaya Street (Moscow’s Broadway) to 6 Café Pushkin. This restaurant, built a decade ago to look like a 19th century manor, would feel right at home in Las Vegas. When the food arrives, you’ll sense that authenticity isn’t the name of the game at Café Pushkin, because Russian cuisine was simply never meant to taste so good. Order yourself a soup (a must in Russia), piroshki (pastry pies filled with beef, lamb or veggies) and either the beef Stroganoff or Pozharsky cutlets. If you want to go completely native, get a plate of pickled vegetables and at least one carafe of vodka. A meal will cost you about $100 per person and, perhaps, your sobriety.

After dinner, walk it off with a stroll along the boulevard. On summer nights, you’ll find couples in love, speed-chess players and groups of students crowded around street performers. Take a moment to appreciate the scene—and how little it costs.

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Three Perfect Days, Buenos Aires, Argentina

admin — Wed, 01 Apr 2009 06:00:17 +0000

DAY ONE / Palermo Viejo is where old and new Buenos Aires bumped into one another and decided to tango. It’s the city’s most fashionable barrio and the ideal base for your stay. Book a suite at 1Home Hotel, an award-winning boutique property that marries sleek style with soulfulness and bright colors. Wake up amid vintage Scandinavian furniture and gorgeous floral wallpaper, and take your breakfast in the pool garden. It’s a classy start to the day.

Plaza de Mayo (2)

Buenos Aires beckons, and you should jump in feet first. Have the desk staff hail a taxi that will carry you to the city’s political and commercial hub, 2Plaza de Mayo, which has been a central neighborhood since its founding in 1580. Along the way you’ll cross the 16 lanes of Avenida 9 de Julio, the city’s widest avenue and truly one of the asphalt wonders of the world.

Once in the square, get your bearings. On the west side is the whitewashed Cabildo (Town Hall), where the 1810 revolution was plotted, leading to independence from Spain. (The plaza is in the midst of a rehab in preparation for next year’s bicentennial.) Continuing clockwise, you’ll pass the Metropolitan Cathedral, a neoclassical pile that has been rebuilt countless times. Despite the undistinguished exterior, be sure to duck in and check out the mausoleum of General San Martín, Argentina’s George Washington, which is protected by three life-size figures representing Peru, Chile and Argentina.

On the eastern edge of the plaza is the Casa Rosada, or Pink House.
The chief executive’s office building, the Casa Rosada was first painted pink by President Domingo Sarmiento in the 1860s to quell a disturbance between two political factions, one associated with white; the other, red. Its famous balcony has been the bully pulpit for presidents, dictators, liberators, Eva Perón and, of course, Madonna playing Eva Perón.

Complete your circuit of the plaza and exit on Avenida de Mayo, next to the Cabildo. Find a seat at the 3Café Tortoni, BA’s oldest and most storied coffeehouse, dating from 1858, and order a café con leche and a crispy churro. Writers and intellectuals like Jorge Luis Borges and Federico García Lorca once scribbled at the oak and green marble tables; now, camera-swinging foreign visitors are a more common site. Nonetheless, this may be one certified tourist trap you won’t mind getting ensnared by. The churros are divine.

Next, cross the Avenida and enter Piedras subway station, where you’ll hop on the A line bound for the neighborhood of Montserrat. The train is made up entirely of original wooden carriages, making it the oldest of its kind in South America. Get off at Sáenz Peña station, and climb the stairs to discover the startlingly eclectic 4Palacio Barolo towering over you. Built by an Italian architect in 1923, it is an homage to Dante’s Divine Comedy. The ground floor represents hell, with floor tiles depicting licking flames, while the tower, which signifies heaven, offers a panoramic view of the city. The Palacio, which now houses mostly offices, is a wild profusion of styles, particularly Art Nouveau and Asian Indian Revival. Enter the ground floor passageway and contemplate your transgressions (surely you can think of one or two?) while admiring the leering gargoyles.

Enough of that. Exit the plaza on Calle San José and continue until you reach Avenida Corrientes, a busy strip of theaters and pizzerias. All that thinking about sin has no doubt given you an appetite, so have lunch at 5Los Inmortales, a classic pizza joint featuring redemptive thin-crust pies that have been enjoyed by the fabulous likes of Liza Minnelli and Parisian crooner Charles Aznavour.

Puerto Madero (6)

Afterward, stroll along Corrientes toward the towering Obelisco, cross Calle 9 de Julio and continue down to the recently renovated port district of 6Puerto Madero, Buenos Aires’ youngest barrio. You’ll see nifty red brick structures that were once abandoned husks. Madero has been completely rebuilt and is now the perfect spot for an afternoon promenade. Walk south along the dockside until you reach the Puente de la Mujer bridge, which offers a clear view of the city behind you. Double back and head for the recently opened 7Fortabat Museum, a long, narrow building with a rounded roof that towers overhead looking like a row of talons. You can spend hours inside admiring the private art collection of Amalia Fortabat, Argentina’s richest woman. The country’s best artists are represented, alongside international treasures like Andy Warhol, Hans Brueghel and JMW Turner.

Take tea on the museum café’s terrace as the sun drops behind the city’s skyline. Then head south until you reach the 8Faena Hotel + Universe, an austere grain silo that architect Philippe Starck recently transformed into the city’s most au courant luxury lodging. Enjoy a frozen margarita at the Pool Bar before hailing a cab back to Palermo.

The concierge at Home Hotel will set up an Ayurvedic massage at the hotel’s spa.

I heartily recommend you avail yourself of this 90-minute embrace. It’ll prepare you for dinner at an outdoor table at 9La Cabrera, one of BA’s top parrillas, or steakhouses. Order a bife de chorizo (sirloin), some of the best in the world. Our waiter matched our meal with a bottle of rich and smoky 2005 Escorihuela Gascon Malbec.

The night, as porteños say, is in diapers (though if you can still stand up after that dinner, you may not have ordered enough). Carry yourself six blocks to 10Salón Canning, which hosts milongas (tango dance nights) weekdays from 11pm onward. Since it’s your first night, perhaps you’ll just watch. Tomorrow, you dance.

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Three Perfect Days, Washington DC

Hemispheres Editor — Sun, 01 Mar 2009 16:46:06 +0000

DAY ONE / Washington has experienced something of a renaissance during the last few years, with an array of restaurants and nightclubs sprouting up around town, as well as boutique hotels like the chic 1 Hotel Monaco, housed in the historic General Post Office building, and located in the heart of D.C.’s bustling Penn Quarter. An eclectic mix of 19th-century grandeur and 21st-century postmodernism, the hotel offers guests a warm welcome and a dash of whimsy. Wake up under the serene gaze of Thomas Jefferson (a bust of the third president has been placed in each room) and wish your personal goldfish a good morning—another amenity that comes standard in each room. Fortify yourself with coffee, fresh fruit, croissants and muffins in the hotel’s sleek Poste Moderne Brasserie, and get ready to hit 2 The National Mall.

Lincoln Memorial (3)

Grab a taxi and head to the 3 Lincoln Memorial. Be sure to arrive before 9 a.m. to beat the crowds. In the quiet of early morning, take an opportunity for some quiet reflection in front of the epic statute of the sixteenth U.S. president. Then turn around and take in the inspiring view across the Reflecting Pool toward the 4 Washington Monument and U.S. Capitol in the distance. Also take time to read Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address etched in the wall of the adjacent chamber.

Washington Monument (4)

As the sun creeps higher into the sky, make your way to the south side of the Reflecting Pool, where you will pass by the Korean War Veterans Memorial, a stainless-steel monument depicting a squad of larger-than-life G.I.s on patrol. Take a path through the grove of trees to the nearby domed D.C. War Memorial, which commemorates World War I veterans, and head to the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial.

If you’re lucky, the cherry blossoms will be in full bloom. Peaking in late March and early April, the trees are so beautiful that you’ll have no choice but to pause among them and enjoy the fragrant scene. Then it’s on to the sprawling Roosevelt Memorial, which tells a narrative story of the president’s four terms in office, including the seminal events that shaped his presidency, namely the Great Depression and World War II. (It’s also the only memorial that celebrates a First Pet, the president’s beloved Scottish terrier, Fala, who sits obediently next to the bronze statue of Roosevelt in the center of the memorial.)

With midmorning in full swing, wind back along the Tidal Basin under the cherry trees and cross over Independence Avenue to the Mall’s center attraction, the Washington Monument. You will pass the World War II Memorial, the latest addition to the Mall’s growing collection. Approach the Washington Monument from the sweeping expanse of grass on its west side, stand near the base of the obelisk, and enjoy unobstructed views of the White House and the Jefferson Memorial to the south, as well as kids flying kites, young adults tossing Frisbees and families setting out picnics.

Now it’s time to hit some museums. With all the options (many of which are free), it’s easy to become overwhelmed. But rather than speedwalking through all the offerings, select two or three along the way that pique your curiosity. Start by heading in the direction of the Capitol building and moving to the south edge of the Mall. After passing the Department of Agriculture building, you’ll come across the 5 Freer Gallery of Art, which showcases Asian masterworks. Be sure to pop into the famous Peacock Room, an elaborate interior created by a wealthy ship owner in 1876. From the Freer, it’s a quick jog to both the Sackler Gallery and the National Museum of African Art, two of the area’s most fascinating (if somewhat overlooked) institutions. Next up is the Hirshhorn Museum, which contains a fantastic collection of thought-provoking works of modern art and sculpture. Venture downstairs to the recently opened exhibit Strange Bodies, which features Ron Mueck’s unforgettable sculpture, “Untitled (Big Man),” along with other work from the museum’s permanent collection. From here, head next door to the massively popular National Air and Space Museum, where you can’t help but marvel at how quickly aviation progressed from the Wright brothers’ cloth-covered flying contraption to the Apollo command module. Check out the Russian intercontinental ballistic missiles that were once the stuff of Cold War nightmares, and be sure to grab a package of freeze-dried ice cream, ready for liftoff.

Speaking of eating, it’s time for lunch. You could grab a hotdog from one of the many street vendors, with their vividly painted vans. But for a meal more in the spirit of exploration, go to the Mitsitam Native Foods Café in the recently opened National Museum of the American Indian, which offers entrees based on Native American culinary traditions. Try a meat pie, filled with venison, black barley and dried fruits layered in flakey pastry shell. Or go for the “campfire buffalo burger” served with green chilies and a side of fry bread with cinnamon and honey.

Your next destination is the 6 United States Botanic Garden, located just next door. Enter the facility’s outdoor garden and follow the meandering trail through regional plantings and past a babbling brook. Then step into horticultural heaven with a visit to the Jungle Room, where towering palm trees with enormous leaves reach up to the glass ceiling.

Head across the Mall to the 7 National Gallery of Art and start your tour in the dramatic East Building, until March 22, you can catch Pompeii and the Roman Villa: Art and Culture around the Bay of Naples, which displays 150 works of sculpture, painting, mosaic and luxury arts, much of it preserved by the famed eruption of Mount Vesuvius in 79 A.D. Then make your way downstairs, past the museum café and into the bookstore, a great place to pick up souvenirs for art-loving family members and friends. After emerging in the museum’s original West Building, visit the galleries on the second floor, hung with priceless masterworks by Monet, Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Cassatt, Picasso and more.

Just outside, you’ll encounter the Sculpture Garden, where you can dip your toes in the large circular fountain as you rest up for your next stop: the National Museum of Natural History, featuring an ocean exhibit with a life-sized display of a North Atlantic Right Whale. If you’re up for some serious window shopping, take a gander at the Hope Diamond—that is if you can see past the crowds who tend to congregate there.

Wrap up your Smithsonian tour with a visit to the recently renovated 8 National Museum of American History. The centerpiece of the two-year overhaul is a state-of-the-art display of the Star Spangled Banner, the giant flag that flew over Baltimore during the War of 1812 and inspired the national anthem. You might also swing by the exhibit of gowns worn by First Ladies, and have a look at Dorothy’s ruby slippers.

About this time, you might be dreaming of clicking your own heels three times and muttering, “There’s no place like the hotel room.”

Hang in there. Just few blocks further you’ll reach 9 The White House. With some luck you might catch a glimpse of the promised First Pet romping on the grounds facing the Mall. Continue west around the White House compound, past the Eisenhower Executive Office Building to Lafayette Park. From here, you’ll have a much closer view of the White House itself, along with the ever-present protesters who gravitate to this global center of power.

After offering a “hail to the chief,” hail a cab back to the hotel, where you can huddle with your advisors—namely Thomas Jefferson and the goldfish—to make an executive decision on dinner.

Consider 10 The Monocle, a longtime D.C. institution located near the Senate office buildings on Capitol. In the old days, young senators John F. Kennedy and Richard Nixon may have sought common ground over a good cut of meat and a cigar. Today, the cigars are verboten, but you can still feel powerful devouring a 14-ounce grilled New York sirloin in the dining room. Don’t be surprised if you bump elbows with a well-known politico, like Republican senator Olympia Snowe, a recent patron.

Once you’ve caught your second wind, grab a taxi to the ultra-trendy 11 U Street Corridor, lately the center of D.C. nightlife. Renowned as the birthplace of Duke Ellington and former host of such jazz greats as Dizzy Gillespie and Miles Davis, the neighborhood today boasts an ever-increasing number of hot clubs and restaurants, not to mention boutiques and art galleries. Grab a cocktail at the sophisticated Utopia Bar & Grill, which offers live blues and jazz Tuesday through Sunday. Or for a gorgeous view, climb to the glassed in-rooftop dining room of Tabaq Bistro. Finally, stroll over to 18th Street and north to Adams Morgan for a visit to the famed Madam’s Organ Blues Bar, a beloved local venue.

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Three Perfect Days, Singapore

Hemispheres Editor — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 06:00:25 +0000

DAY ONE / Chinatown is one of the oldest and most historic neighbourhoods in Singapore, and it’s also home to some of the funkiest new lodgings. You’re staying at the New Majestic Hotel, a modish boutique hotel occupying a row of shop-houses built in 1928. Every room has been styled by a different leading Singapore artist or designer. Start the day off easy with breakfast in the restaurant on the ground floor. Look up through the portholes in the ceiling and you might catch a glimpse of someone doing laps in the swimming pool above.

You’ve got an energetic morning ahead of you. The best way to explore Chinatown is on foot, so exit the hotel, turn right, and walk up to Neil Road at the top of the hill. Then turn left and walk for another five minutes. Straight ahead, you can’t miss the gloriously red Buddha Tooth Relic Temple & Museum. It’s the newest and biggest temple in Chinatown, resplendent with Tang Dynasty style. Its main draw is a tooth of the Buddha displayed in a gold stupa on the fourth story. There’s also a small Buddhist Culture Museum with artifacts from all over Asia.

Now that the spirit is taken care of, it’s time to attend to the body. Cross South Bridge Road in front of the temple and step into the pristine, cool comfort of Eu Yan Sang. A modern Chinese medical hall, it has a trove of medicinal herbs and tonics and an Englishspeaking staff to help decipher which would be best for your constitution. Have a touch of jet lag? Consult the traditional Chinese medical clinic that adjoins the shop—a quick treatment might do the trick.

It’s time for lunch, so turn left as you exit Eu Yan Sang and walk up along Tanjong Pagar Road to The Blue Ginger. The menu here is classic Peranakan (Straits Chinese), our tantalizing local blend of Chinese and Malay flavours. Perennial favourites are kueh pie tee (an appetizer of turnip, egg, and prawn served in crisp pastry), ngor heong (shredded bamboo shoots and turnips garnished with shrimp), and ayam buah keluak (chicken cooked with the Indonesian nut buah keluak).

Afterward, take a slow stroll back the way you came and look for the narrow Ann Siang Road on your right. A century ago, the shop-houses here were Chinese businessmen’s clubs; today they’re home to an eclectic mix of stores selling books, fashion, objets d’art, and even baby chic. For products designed in Singapore, check out The Asylum, which sells fashion, music, and books.

When you’ve had your fill of shopping, mosey over to the small Ann Siang Hill Park at the top of the hill. Take the stairs down to Amoy Street and walk one short block up to Telok Ayer Street. Turn left here and continue until you reach Thian Hock Keng Temple, which is about as different from the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple as you can imagine. One of the oldest temples in Singapore, it was built without a single nail. In the 19th century, it was the first stop for new arrivals from China, who came to give thanks for a safe journey.

Tired of walking? It’s time to look at Singapore from a different perspective—the river. Take a taxi to Clarke Quay, where you’ll find the small Hippo River Cruise kiosk. The Hippo River Cruise leaves every half-hour, heading out to the mouth of the Singapore River and back. The cruise guide is well-versed in the history of life on the riverbank and might even share a ghost story. Book ahead for weekends. As evening falls, retire to Straits Kitchen at the Grand Hyatt Singapore for dinner. The smorgasbord here is a great way to sample just about every kind of Singaporean food: Chinese, Malay, or Indian. The food is whipped up in the wok or on the grill right in front of you. Try the roast duck or freshly made roti prata (flatbread served with curry). Round off the evening with drinks at New Asia Bar on the 71st level of the Fairmont Singapore. The best night view of the cityscape sprawls all around.

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