To begin, I’d like to wish a very happy 100th birthday to one of my all-time heroes, Sir David Attenborough. His groundbreaking BBC documentaries opened my eyes to the wonders of the natural world as a child, and will never cease to thrill, soothe, and inspire me today. I put on Planet Earth whenever I want to relax, as a reminder of the beauty of the world and the mind-blowing variety of life we share it with. I’ve watched every episode countless times, and of all the places to which Sir David and his intrepid production crews have traveled, the one that I never imagined I would get to experience myself was the Amazon.

Endless mystery surrounds this vast river system and the surrounding rainforest, and many myths (and truths) are associated with the peoples and wildlife one might encounter there. For years I’ve heard of flesh-eating fish (true!), aquatic creatures that swim up urine streams (myth!), and tribes that have never had contact with the rest of society (lucky them!). Meanwhile, movies like Anaconda play on the peril associated with the creatures that lurk in the Amazonian waters, while even sweet Paddington Bear originated from remote, unexplored “Darkest Peru”—a term we no longer use.

When I received the email inviting me on a small group trip to explore this mystical wilderness with Abercrombie & Kent, I’ll admit I shed a few tears of excitement. A journey on the luxury tour operator’s brand-new Pure Amazon riverboat would take us deep into the Peruvian Amazon, to search for wildlife, learn about the ecology of this beguiling place, and relax on this luxurious vessel in between. I was poised to experience my own episode of Planet Earth—in style, no less!

Journeying into the Amazon

The expedition began in Lima, where we spent a whirlwind 24 hours “acclimatizing” and learning about Peruvian culture. On an overcast day, a guided art walk took us past the bright murals of the Barranco neighborhood, we mixed pisco sours to the soundtrack of live Huyano folk music at boutique Hotel B, then dined at moodily lit Xoma on a seafood menu that included tiger-milk scallops that I still dream about. To cap a packed day, we made one quick final stop for late-night cocktails at sci-fi-inspired Lady Bee—a consistent climber on the World’s 50 Best Bars list.

The next morning, we swapped the arid Pacific coast for the northeast rainforest, as we flew less than two hours to the regional hub of Iquitos. As soon as we landed, the air weighed 10 times thicker and engulfed us in heat and moisture, so we quickly boarded our little, thankfully air-conditioned bus for a long, bumpy ride to the river port of Nauta.

Darkness had fallen by the time we arrived at the Abercrombie & Kent terminal, a small, thatched wooden building in which we finalized our registrations, and collected our lifejackets, torches, and wellington boots. Bats flitted around the roof while a man watched TV under a fluorescent light next door, as we descended to the water to board the fleet of narrow skiff boats. These would take us across the vast Marañón River, which joins the Ucayali River just a few miles downstream to become the mighty Amazon, to our glowing, glamorous vessel on the opposite bank.

All Aboard the Pure Amazon

Our welcome onto the Pure Amazon was a joyous, raucous celebration for which none of us were quite prepared. The entire crew greeted us with music, singing, and dancing—as well as much-needed refreshing drinks and cool towels—as we filed one by one past our equipment lockers, and into the bar lounge that would become our informal expedition HQ. Designed by Milan-based architect Adriana Granato, of Studio Ibsen, the boat’s interiors were minimally yet warmly decorated, with accents of dark wood, deep green, and bright orange. Subtle contextual nods included patterned textiles, and wall-mounted ceramic tiles evocative of the scales of the elusive giant paiche—one of the world’s largest freshwater fish and a resident of these waters.

My quarters for the four-night voyage were surprisingly spacious, offering plenty of room to unpack and store away my belongings, work at the small desk, and lounge in front of the fully glazed facade stretching across the bedroom and bathroom. Staring out at the ever-shifting view as the boat sailed slowly along the river was so soothing, though some small boats did pass by while I was showering beside the glass—but none seemed to notice or care. A king-sized bed granted me a deep sleep each night, and it was a thrill to wake up each morning and see where we’d parked for the day.

Skiff Expeditions

In October, at the tail end of the low-water season, our movements were somewhat restricted around Pacaya Samiria National Reserve—a sprawling five-million-acre protected area in Peru’s Loreto region and one of the world’s largest flooded forests. Each evening, our riverboat journeyed to a new location, and nightly briefings from our expert guides—Hulber, Robinson, and Javier, all highly qualified naturalists—outlined the next day’s route and activities. These involved multiple skiff excursions through rivers and tributaries in search of wildlife including pink dolphins, sloths, capybaras, monkeys, and a dazzling variety of birdlife, from kingfishers to hawks. Sir David would have been proud.

The early morning skiff rides were my favorite, rising at dawn to gear up and board the skiffs while the light was still dim and the temperature still bearable. Feeling the fresh breeze whip around us was exhilarating as we sped across the vast river, heading towards its tree-lined banks and navigating into the narrower waterways where the most wildlife could be found. Our guides’ eagle eyes—and ears—were astonishing: spotting sloths asleep high in the canopy and hearing monkeys moving through the trees hundreds of feet away. Occasionally, we’d stop to meet fishermen who would show us the catfish and roe they’d caught, and wave as we passed families farming on the banks.

The dolphins needed no pointing out. We frequently saw them surface close to the skiffs, and watched them splash from the boat’s decks and windows. For bird lovers, this place was paradise. Stark white egrets cut elegant silhouettes against the dark greenery as they waited patiently on bankside logs, kingfishers darted from branch to branch, parrots flew in formation overhead, and birds of prey scanned the landscape from the lofty trunks of dead trees. Our skiff’s night excursion proved less fruitful, but slowly meandering through the narrow channels under torchlight was magical regardless (one of the boats caught a glimpse of a capybara wading in the shallows though).

Kayaks, Parakeets, & Piranhas

Between wildlife excursions, we also had opportunities to take part in activities on and around the water. While kayaking across an expansive lake, we watched hundreds of cormorants take flight—straight out of a Planet Earth episode—and during a fishing trip, every one of us caught a piranha, which were considerably smaller than I had imagined. One afternoon, a short jungle walk led us beneath a dense forest canopy, past enormous banyan trees draped with roots, to a peaceful pond blooming with giant Victoria water lilies.

Another morning, we visited a riverside village where residents live in temporary stilted homes to accommodate rising waters, often relocating entirely when the river changes course. Families warmly greeted us, selling handcrafts made from folded grasses, while an adorable child followed us around with a parakeet perched on his head. Grocery stores stocked familiar snacks, and an empty nightclub blasted bass-heavy reggaeton in the middle of the afternoon. Most striking of all were the campaign posters for Peru’s upcoming elections—oddly tethering this remote corner of the world to national politics.

Life On Board

“Cruise food” is notoriously mediocre, but we were truly spoiled aboard the Pure Amazon. Breakfast and lunch buffets overflowed with tropical fruit (don’t even get me started on the mangoes), pastries, and savory dishes. Each evening, meanwhile, brought a five-course dinner with wine pairings featuring elevated takes on local cuisine: endless varieties of Peruvian potatoes, regional fish with subtly spiced sauces, and beautifully plated grains, greens, pulses, and root vegetables. How they managed to source and prepare all this on a boat remains another Amazonian mystery.

Beyond the 12 cabin suites on the middle deck and the back-of-house areas, the boat also housed a library of resources including wildlife encyclopaedias and even skulls of some monkey species. There was a small gym that I don’t think anyone used, and, of course, a small gift shop that I scoffed at as we boarded, but from which I almost bought a soft-toy sloth by the end. Best of all, there were two very well-stocked bars serving just 22 guests, and the bartenders enthusiastically mixed pisco sours, gin and tonics, martinis, and more whenever requested.

We enjoyed our drinks during the briefings on the lower deck, while relaxing in the upper deck lounge, and in the open-air hot tub at the boat’s stern. It was from here, soaking in the bubbling water, that we witnessed some of the most spectacular sunsets I’ve ever seen. Dark clouds streaked and billowed across the brightest orange sky that slowly shifted to purple as light dwindled—all of which was also reflected in the vast expanses of water that give Pacaya Samiria the nickname “Forest of Mirrors.” Proudly, one of my sunset photos even made the cover of Luxury Travel Advisor’s Spring 2026 print issue, with many thanks to editor Cameron Sperance!

Saving This Fragile Ecosystem

On the bus ride back to Iquitos—and ever since—I haven’t stopped fretting about the future of the richly diverse ecosystem I was privileged to explore. The Amazon is facing severe, interconnected threats that are pushing the ecosystem toward a dangerous tipping point. Deforestation for commercial farming, illegal mining, plus flooding, droughts, and fires exacerbated by climate change are compounding one another, and together could spell global disaster. The lungs of our world are being choked, and far too little is being done to stop it.

I witnessed firsthand the Peruvian Amazon’s unprecedented drought conditions and record-low water levels, which are isolating Indigenous communities reliant on the river for food, medicine, and essential supplies. Pink dolphin populations are plummeting, while species from jaguars and giant river otters to harpy eagles remain critically endangered.

I rarely encourage more tourism to a destination—many issues of this newsletter have lamented over-tourism—but I genuinely believe more people should witness wildlife in its natural habitat. Watching Planet Earth is one thing, but seeing these creatures with your own eyes and immediately hearing about their struggles is something else entirely.

That said, don’t simply show up in the jungle. Trips like this should be undertaken with responsible operators like Abercrombie & Kent, which fairly compensate staff, support local communities, and are invested in protecting the environment both financially and through education. Plus, everyone wearing an A&K shirt—from airport porters and bus drivers to Emily, our endlessly bubbly Pure Amazon host—was warm, knowledgeable, and deeply invested in the guest experience.

Of course, very few people can afford such an adventure. But since those with the means—and influence—to change global systems often can, I hope more might choose a journey like this over yet another yacht trip to Mykonos or Saint Barths. The river cruise was just as luxurious, but had much more substance and purpose. Perhaps then they’d better understand the fragility of our natural world, and the consequences of corporate greed and resource depletion elsewhere. We all need to become better stewards of this planet, and travel to places like the Amazon can inspire us to ask an important question: WWDAD—What Would David Attenborough Do?

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All photography featured in Far-Flung Corners is my own, unless specified otherwise. Don’t forget to follow @farflung.corners on Instagram for more photos, updates, musings, and more. Love, D x

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My Italian adventure last month encompassed stays at no less than five hotels across Tuscany: from a rural bolthole to a coastal escape; a city crash-pad to the Ferragamo family’s former estate (such a hard job, I know!). The journey wasn’t all glamorous—cut to me lugging three heavy bags through the cobbled streets of Milan and Florence, and up the stairs of several non-ADA-compliant train stations. But every time I arrived at a destination, the beauty and serenity of this idyllic part of the world quickly melted away any travel stress.

While I considered writing a full review for each of these spots, I thought it would be more useful and efficient to summarize all of them together in one post. So, here we are! Read on for my thoughts on everywhere I stayed in Tuscany…

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A purposefully ambiguous line of text opens the film adaptation of Call Me By Your Name: “Somewhere in Northern Italy.” Just before leaving for the country last month, I borrowed it for the subject line of my out-of-office reply, since I’d be moving around so much. (It also felt like a fitting title for this issue, for the same reason.) It was clever of the 2017 movie’s director, Luca Guadagnino, to keep the location vague—had he been more specific, the tiny village and its surroundings used during shooting would likely be overrun today with “set-jetters” seeking out filming spots from their favorite scenes.

While CMBYN was largely filmed in Lombardy, my destination happened to be nearby Tuscany, which, according to several locals I spoke to, has another film’s success to thank for its popularity. The 2003 rom-com Under the Tuscan Sun, starring Diane Lane as a divorcée who impulsively buys a crumbling villa, firmly put the region on the map for American tourists. More than two decades later, Tuscany is by far Italy’s most visited region. Some arrive in search of their own love story, while others come simply to bask in the postcard-perfect countryside they’ve seen on screen. In fairness, there’s also the art museums of Florence, the engineering mishap in Pisa, and countless more world-famous cultural sites to entice such a large amount of tourists.

Most years, I travel to Milan for the city’s annual design week in April, and use the opportunity to explore other parts of the country while I’m there. Previous two- or three-night detours have taken me to Cinque Terre, the Amalfi coast, and Lake Como—all incredible, and also all touristy! This year, I coincidently received invitations for group trips to visit two luxury Tuscan hotels either side of Milan’s Salone, and generous offers from other properties in the area to fill the gaps in my individual itinerary. So I was able to spin this into a 2.5-week adventure that encompassed a large swathe of Italy’s emblematic rural region.

I’ll be honest, Tuscany was not my first choice. Crowds aside, I try to prioritize new destinations whenever I possibly can, and I’d already visited many of the region’s cities—first on a school arts trip, and again when I returned for a wedding in 2024. But if there’s ever a perfect time to go, it’s late April, when the weather is typically warm and sunny, the days are longer, and it’s still relatively quiet. This year’s itinerary would also take me to parts of Tuscany that I hadn’t yet explored, including several beautifully remote hotels set in striking country and seaside landscapes that I’d heard many great things about.

I flew from Newark to Malpensa on all-business-class airline La Compagnie, and the lay-flat seat, attentive service, multiple glasses of champagne, and actually edible food made the red-eye far more pleasant than previous years stuffed into economy. Then, from the cavernous marble halls of Milano Centrale to single-platform countryside stations and back again, I crisscrossed northern Italy—taking a train every few days. As rolling fields, medieval hilltop villages, and grand villas with cypress-lined driveways straight out of Gladiator flashed past my carriage windows, I jotted down my thoughts from each previous stop. I’ll break down the individual properties and stays for paid subscribers next week (upgrade above if you’re curious!). But for now, some general musings…

Chianti is jaw-droppingly beautiful

As the first stop on my trip, the famous wine region across the hilly landscape between Florence and Siena really set the bar high. My nose was practically pressed against the car window as we wound through the Chianti countryside around our hotel, Pieve Aldina. Passing dramatic valleys laced with olive groves and vineyards, and tiny hilltop towns that looked like paintings, the landscape appeared untouched for centuries—a perfect encapsulation of a simpler time. After a fascinating visit to one of only a few remaining terracotta producers in the region, a delicious pasta dinner at a family-run trattoria, and wine-tasting and cooking classes at Pieve that were both educational and very fun, I already felt as if I was seeing a different, more nuanced side of Tuscany.

Siena’s cultural history is captivatingly unique

On a day trip to Siena, we visited a museum dedicated to, and run by, one of the city’s 17 contrade (neighborhood factions), which compete in the twice-yearly Palio horse race around the central Piazza del Campo. Featured in the opening sequence of 2008 James Bond film Quantum of Solace (lots of movie references in this issue!), I only had a vague understanding of the event. So it was eye-opening to hear directly from a member of the Tortuga (tortoise) contrada, who spoke in detail about the centuries of the history and traditions, passionately described fierce rivalries, and recalled dramatic race victories. Afterwards, we even caught a glimpse of Tortuga’s blue and yellow colors spinning through the air during a flag-throwing practice in preparation for this summer’s Palio festivities.

The Tuscan coast is not to be missed

The harbor town of Porto Ercole was one of my favorite stops on the trip—partly because it offered a much-needed pause immediately after the frenzy of Milan design week. Located on the Monte Argentario peninsula, this charming little port is accessed via a single causeway and therefore not the easiest to reach. It’s not as strikingly beautiful as Positano or Portofino, but that may be its saving grace. With only two luxury hotels in or close to the town—Il Pellicano, and La Roqqa where I stayed—and a largely Roman summer crowd, it’s blissfully quiet in the spring.

I found its small size and slow pace to be utterly disarming, as I wandered through the narrow switch-back streets of the fortified medieval town, and found no wait for dinner at a bayside pizzeria where I wolfed down a very satisfying Diavola. Not to mention the nearby Isolotto Beach Club, found at the end of a steep track down the verdant mountainside. Its rows of loungers were neatly arranged on grassy terraces that stepped down to crystal-clear waters lapping the rocky shore, just like in Amalfi—though this spot was practically deserted so early in the season. Overall, I felt like I’d discovered a little slice of heaven that I had almost all to myself.

Climate change is affecting world-famous produce

While out truffle hunting with Tuscan farmer Gianluca and his expert canine fungus-finder, Rosa, we learned about the agricultural history of the delicacy as well as the current challenges brought on by the changing climate. Shifting seasons have forced some farmers into naturally cultivating the precious resource, rather than only foraging in the wild, and greater competition between farms is even eliciting sabotage.

A similar story emerged during a wine tasting at Castiglion del Bosco the following day, when the sommelier revealed how unpredictable weather patterns are threatening the production of Brunello di Montalcino—the region’s famous red (of which we consumed several bottles of during our stay). In 2015, a large proportion of the crop was destroyed by a freak hail storm in August, while 2021 was the second-driest year in the last 30 and emergency irrigation system had to be introduced to protect the vines. A stark reminder that climate change is afflicting every part of the world.

Authentic Tuscany still exists—if you’re willing to search for it

On our last night at Castiglion del Bosco, and the final night of my trip altogether, we cozied up in our villa’s den and watched—you guessed it—Under the Tuscan Sun. As the movie played, I realized how much I’d grown to better understand and appreciate this world-renowned region during my relatively brief stay. Beyond the historic cities and idyllic countryside, Tuscany’s allure is the magic and romance of its languid lifestyle, flavorful food, and passionate people. Who wouldn’t want a slice of that?

The key is to slip away from the over-visited sites, and find opportunities to connect with local experts and support family-run businesses. Across the region, countless charming hotels and villas—set in former monasteries, castles, farmhouses, and borgos—offer exactly that. So whether you’re enticed to Northern Italy by Under The Tuscan Sun or Call Me By Your Name (wait, can someone produce a hybrid: historic Italian villa restoration and gay yearning?!), or another reason entirely, I encourage you to seek out the “somewheres” that others may not have discovered yet.

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Far-Flung Corners is currently accepting pitches and partnership opportunities. If you own or represent a hotel or destination that you think would be a great fit for the publication, or would like to explore options for bespoke content, please get in touch!

Don’t forget to follow @farflung.corners on Instagram for more photos, updates, musings, and more. Love, D x

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While I spent time “resetting” in the barren vastness of California’s High Desert, I was, of course, also on the hunt for standout spots to dine and drink. These oases of good food were admittedly few and far between—but that only made each discovery more rewarding. Natural beauty, on the other hand, was so abundant that choosing where best to take it in proved the real challenge. Over four days in September 2025, during my stays at Hotel Wren and then Reset Hotel, these are the highlights I uncovered…

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As the day’s first light creeps over the mountains, the soft dawn glow draws out the red-purple hues of the arid, rocky landscape. Next to my bed, the window cut-out from the metal container frames the silhouetted ridgeline, and the eerie quiet of night remains even as the sun continues to rise. This could easily be the opening for a sci-fi novel, but it was actually my experience waking up at Reset Hotel. A new 65-key property on the outskirts of Twentynine Palms, in the High Desert of California, this otherworldly property is an experiment in architectural and spatial efficiency. Its wilderness setting invites guests to slow down and mentally refresh as they appreciate the rugged beauty.

The hotel is set on 180 acres that directly abut Joshua Tree National Park, and is just minutes from its official North Entrance. A decision was taken early on to build only on a 10-acre parcel of the available plot that’s closest to the town. This way, the openness of the land and sky, the scale of the mountainous backdrop, and the silence of the setting all remain unspoiled. I spent just one night at Reset Hotel back in October 2025, but it was a highly impactful 24 hours. Continue reading for the full story!

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Wandering the desert in search of inner peace is all well and good—but if that serenity is shattered by a noisy, chaotic environment the moment you return to your lodgings, the whole exercise becomes pointless. During my trip to California’s High Desert in September 2025, when the goal was to clear my head, I needed somewhere calm and quiet to stay after long stretches of driving and hiking around Joshua Tree National Park. The newly opened Hotel Wren in Twentynine Palms proved to be the perfect oasis and remained, for the most part, almost monastically quiet during my two-night stay—which only heightened the experience.

The lack of on-site amenities actually worked in its favor: no clattering dishes in a restaurant, no music drifting from a bar, no late-night chatter. Those things are available nearby if you want them. Even better, the adults-only policy meant no screaming kids or splashing around the pool. Instead, lowered voices, quiet reading, sunbathing, midday siestas, and early nights were the rhythm for both me and my fellow guests—allowing the silence of the surrounding desert to settle over the property. An hour’s drive from Palm Springs through barren landscapes and quirky desert towns—and just 10 minutes from the park’s North Entrance—this boutique hideaway felt like a world unto itself. Keep reading for the details.

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There’s a good reason why, 2,000 or so years ago, the world’s most famous Palestinian Jew dropped everything and headed into the Judean wilderness for 40 days and 40 nights to mull over life’s meaning. It wasn’t just geographical convenience—the desert offered space and very few distractions; it was somewhere to properly disconnect. (There was also something about resisting temptation, but that’s not relevant here, so we’ll skip over it.) The fact is, the desert is a great place to think—or to clear the mind entirely. Either way, it offers a chance to reset before returning to the real world.

In today’s chaotic, relentless, and at times completely overwhelming world, I imagine most of us could benefit from a reset now and again. Mine came last September, when a perfect storm of looming deadlines, the financial pressures of freelancing, a heap of self-doubt, and an increasingly bleak news cycle (particularly in the region mentioned above) combined into a surge of stress. Nothing catastrophic—everything was technically manageable—but like a misbehaving electronic device, I decided to try switching myself off, waiting a few beats, and turning back on again in the hope I’d reboot feeling refreshed. Or, sticking with the storm metaphor: I needed time to dry out. And where better to do that than the notoriously moisture-free desert?

I didn’t have 40 days to spare (who does, Jesus?), so I settled for four and flew to Palm Springs. A drive north, then east, took me into California’s High Desert and eventually to Twentynine Palms. Once a one-horse town, its proximity to Joshua Tree National Park has made it an increasingly trendy getaway for reset-seekers like me. True wilderness is hard to find these days (or wildly expensive), and since Twentynine Palms is less crowded than other desert destinations, it felt like the right compromise. It also, for the record, has far more than 29 palms.

Extreme solitude isn’t actually required for a reset. Easy access to the wilds of Joshua Tree is more than enough to rewire the brain, refocus energy, and realign priorities. I spent the first two nights at Hotel Wren, a former roadside motel recently transformed by Manola Studio into a chic, 12-room, adults-only oasis. It was the perfect setting to begin my mental offload—lounging by the central pool, eating breakfast beside towering aloes, or unwinding in the private patio behind my room.

Hotel Wren is just a few miles from Joshua Tree’s north entrance, and within 20 minutes you can reach a scorched, boulder-strewn landscape that feels otherworldly. While popular formations like Skull Rock, Split Rock, and Arch Rock draw crowds, there are plenty of remote trails if solitude is your aim. Some spots require perfect timing to fully appreciate them, and on my first morning I woke before sunrise to catch one. Driving deep into the park, I arrived at a vast basin dotted with alien-like cholla cacti. As the sun crests the mountains, dawn light filters through their delicate spines, making them appear to glow. For 30 magical minutes, I felt transported somewhere beyond reality—until the temperature began climbing and it was time to move on. The memory, though, has lingered.

Later that day, after downtime by the pool, I decided to complete the circle with a sunset hike. Research suggested Ryan Mountain—one of the park’s highest peaks—offered the best vantage point, so I ambitiously tackled the steep climb. I don’t typically recommend solo hiking, but this was a well-marked trail and I came prepared. The 360-degree views were well worth the effort, as the landscape shifted from beige and tan to deep reds and purples beneath a similarly dramatic sky. Getting down, however, was trickier. Who knew it gets dark after sunset? Thank heavens for my mountain-goat agility and iPhone flashlight, because it was touch-and-go for a minute. But I made it without incident. My reward? Pizza Hut, the only place open late on a Wednesday night in Twentynine Palms.

My second stay, at the aptly named Reset Hotel, was as close to spending the night on Mars as perhaps I’ll ever get. Set on expansive land at the foot of the mountains, the property comprises shipping-container-like structures housing minimalist rooms and forming communal spaces. The concept for Reset came from Ben Uyeda, whose thoughtful approach continues to shape the desert landscape with respect. Meanwhile, the interiors and branding were designed by local firm Gry Space, who kindly met me on-site to share their vision.

The afternoon of my arrival, Ben invited me to a sunset “rock throwing” party, which was exactly as it sounds. He was building a sculptural moon-watching pad on the property and needed to fill its circular form with stones before pouring concrete. So he gathered friends—and me—and turned it into a community event complete with drinks, wings, snacks, and even homemade “rock” cakes that someone brought along. This wasn’t on my desert-disconnect agenda, and I initially hesitated attending. But I’m so glad I went, because it reminded me that community and connection can be just as restorative as solitude.

Though the moon pad wasn’t finished, I did stare up at the desert sky while soaking in my outdoor tub that night. Humans don’t typically enjoy feeling small and insignificant, but I find that it helps put things into perspective. In the vast openness of the desert, gazing into infinite space, I’m just a speck of matter worrying about deadlines or whether my Substack matters. Nothing compares to desert stargazing for this purpose.

Both sharing beers with strangers and spending time completely alone helped me disconnect and recalibrate. You’ll be happy to hear that my reset was a resounding success! On my drive back from the High Desert, I already felt a weight off my shoulders, and by the time I landed in NYC, I was clear-headed enough to tackle each of my challenges one by one.

I very much hope you’re not feeling stressed, anxious, overwhelmed—or worse, all of the above. But in today’s fraught society, no one can blame you for it. And perhaps it’s time for your own reset. We may have just missed the start of Lent, but it’s never too late to take time for yourself. Go wander in the desert for a few days—or even 40, if you can. I promise you’ll feel better for it.

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Far-Flung Corners is currently accepting pitches and partnership opportunities. If you own or represent a hotel or destination that you think would be a great fit for the publication, or would like to explore options for bespoke content, please get in touch!

Don’t forget to follow @farflung.corners on Instagram for more photos, updates, musings, and more.

My big beef with online “guides” is that they send everyone to the same spots, which can ultimately spoil why each spot was enjoyable in the first place. So welcome to my version of a destination guide! Before we go any further, this is not intended to be treated as a guide, per se. It’s simply a collection of places that I enjoyed visiting and photographing beyond the hotels during a trip—in this case, to the Sonoma Coast in Northern California last August. Maybe I loved a particular dish, became enchanted by the atmosphere, appreciated the service, or felt flattered by the bathroom lighting. Perhaps I simply found a spot to sit for a while and watch the world go by. Hopefully all of the above!

This is intended to encourage you, dearest readers, to go out and find your own Favorite Corners during your travels. If you do decide to visit any of the locations I’ve listed (because you trust my taste?), I’m never going to stop you. But I hope you’ll go into any with the intention to learn inquisitively, ask courteously, and enjoy respectfully.

For this particular edition, which rounds out Issue 013, the majority of the entries below were chosen by the fabulous Liddy Parlato and the team at Flowers Winery. I can therefore take zero credit for their discovery, and only say thank you for being invited and included. Find the full list below the fold.

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Will I ever stop talking about Sea Ranch? Probably not. Those who read my essay from this Issue have already heard me wax lyrical about the marvels of this modernist enclave, which stretches 4,000 acres along a remote section of the rugged Sonoma Coast in Northern California. But I specifically want to highlight a key component: the iconic hotel and community center around which my all-too-brief visit in August 2025 revolved. This was the second overnight stop on a group trip with locally based Flowers Winery, after a quick stay at The Madrona in Healdsburg, and a gorgeous vineyard tour and lunch. The Sea Ranch Lodge offered a completely different experience—one I won’t forget in a hurry.

The lodge first opened in 1964 as both a hub for local residents and accommodation for visitors, and includes a bar, lounge, cafe, dining area, general store and post office in one building, and guest rooms in another right next door. Both wooden structures were renovated and reopened in 2022, allowing outsiders to share in the magic of this unique community (which is otherwise tricky, since the average home value is over $1.3 million). There are few true modernist icons that guests can spend the night in, so those who’ve had the privilege to stay at The Sea Ranch Lodge—myself now included—can count themselves incredibly lucky!

The full review continues below.

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When San Francisco–based interior designer Jay Jeffers first toured a historic hillside estate on the outskirts of Healdsburg, Northern California, his initial reaction was: “What is this crazy, magical place—and how do I not know anything about it?” He shared the story with an intimate group of us in The Madrona’s periwinkle-hued parlor, a space that perfectly demonstrates his unbridled imagination. As both designer and co-owner of the property, Jeffers has restored the glamour to the estate through his signature maximalist style, which is certainly not for everyone—but that’s part of the allure.

Just three years after reopening, The Madrona’s reputation as a must-visit Wine Country escape is now internationally recognized, and the hotel has become something of a poster child for the upper reaches of Sonoma County. This was my first stop on a whirlwind trip around the region with Flowers Winery, conveniently located just five minutes down the road. Although I spent less than 24 hours here, the conversation with Jeffers offered deep insight into his vision for the property—and what guests can expect when they enter this whimsical world.

Here’s what I thought…

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“Never meet your heroes,” the saying goes. That’s probably sound advice when it comes to celebrities—particularly these days—but what about buildings? Whether or not you consider architectural structures “icons,” as I do, several famous buildings and monuments are likely to appear on travelers’ “bucket lists” (a phrase I’m banning from here on out, FYI), and I’d bet that more man-made structures than natural wonders appear on many. We have to admit, the chance of seeing certain skyscrapers, monuments, places of worship, and standalone follies IRL gets us excited.

The Sex and the City scene when Carrie Bradshaw squeals with delight upon spotting the Eiffel Tower from her hotel balcony (at the Plaza Athénée, no less) is forever burned into my brain as a perfect example of architecture-induced glee. No shade: her reaction is totally relatable. But why do artfully stacked piles of bricks, carefully arranged stones, or, in the French capital’s case, expertly welded lengths of iron elicit so much fervor and emotion from us? Put simply: humans can’t get enough of their own ingenuity.

Buildings represent some of humanity’s most impressive achievements, and many famous examples have become emblematic of the city or country in which they stand. They’re at once symbols of culture and anchors for orientation, and therefore naturally form the backbone of most sightseeing itineraries. Almost every major city has at least one landmark structure, after all. Those who’ve longed to visit Rome will inevitably stop at the Colosseum, and first-timers in Beijing will no doubt work-in a tour of the Forbidden City. The Sagrada Familia is Barcelona’s most visited site by far—and it’s not even finished.

Whether getting up close, peeking inside, or admiring from afar as part of a skyline or landscape, we’re certainly willing to spend a lot of money to see our favorite buildings in person—and considerably more for a room with a view of them, or better still, within them. Some trips even revolve entirely around a single site or structure. The late Frank Gehry’s Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao sparked a phenomenon—tourists flew-in just to see the shiny new building, and the whole city’s economy boomed as a result. Other sites see fewer benefits, like the Leaning Tower of Pisa or the Taj Mahal, where hordes of travelers will rock-up for the obligatory photo opp and then promptly depart on their coaches without noticing or contributing anything else—neither sustainable nor beneficial.

What are visitors getting out of these flash encounters, and why allocate so much money and energy to a fleeting drive-by? One would hope they gain a sense of awe, a deeper appreciation of history and culture, and a greater understanding of the world. But I suspect many leave with nothing more than a handful of pics that never make it off their phones, and a check mark on the list-that-shall-not-be-named. At the same time, the sheer volume of people at many of these sites makes the experience less meaningful for everyone. Barcelona, Venice, Kyoto, and many others are facing this problem and pushing back hard against over-tourism as a result. We should ask ourselves if it’s really worth lining up with thousands of others to get a partially blocked glance of a bridge, a tower, or a temple—no matter how famous (and this goes beyond architecture, too).

I’m the first to admit my love of visiting buildings all over the world. As a recovering architecture graduate, and a writer and editor for shelter publications for the past 15 years, my must-see list includes both the renowned and the niche. In the past I’ve taken a solo half-day detour from San Diego to see Louis Kahn’s Salk Institute, dragged my husband across Lisbon to AL_A’s MAAT museum (nearly missing our cruise departure), and even rerouted an entire rugby team to show them Zaha Hadid’s Guangzhou Opera House.

Rather than simply show up, snap a few photos, and move on, I always try my best to dig deeper—research the history, understand the context, and consider the building’s impact today. Visiting any site in-person creates a much more tangible connection, and builds long-lasting memories. So for me, a special excursion to check out any of my favorites is always worthwhile. I’ve chosen to call these intentional expeditions “architectural pilgrimages,” and, as with any pilgrimage, the aim is to personally reflect along the way too.

For many years, Sea Ranch has held the coveted top spot on my personal architectural pilgrimage wish list. Ever since university, when I learned about this unique modernist enclave and the contributions of its notable architects, I’ve longed to experience the place firsthand. Stretching nine miles along a remote stretch of California’s rugged Pacific Coast, the planned community was developed in the 1960s by a group of like-minded individuals who envisioned a haven where architecture and nature would seamlessly coalesce. They created strict design regulations to ensure any construction enhanced rather than disrupted the dramatic coastal landscape.

These environmentally sensitive principles they established—from mandating wood cladding and sloping rooflines, to carefully positioning windows to maintain privacy—are still upheld by the Design Committee today. Annoying for new residents? Perhaps. But their diligence has preserved the area as a powerful example of harmony between the natural and the man-made.

After years of dreaming, I finally had the opportunity to visit and stay overnight at Sea Ranch in August 2025, as part of a group trip organized by the locally based Flowers Winery. The timing couldn’t have been more convenient: my Green Card application had restricted international travel, and I was taking the opportunity to explore more of the US (read about my Oregon trip here). Starting with two dreamy days sipping Flowers’ chardonnay and pinot noir while learning about the unique Sonoma Coast terroir, we spent the final 24 hours of the trip at The Sea Ranch Lodge. (A more detailed review is coming later in Issue 013.) At last, here was my chance to see one of the world’s greatest concentrations of preserved modernist architecture.

The coastal drive alone—spectacular, winding, and slightly nauseating—only heightened my anticipation. Upon arrival, my excitement was at fever pitch, and thankfully, entirely justified. The striking landscape immediately instilled a sense of serenity, while the sculptural buildings amplified the drama of the coastline. Standing between these timber structures and the roaring ocean, I was assured why Sea Ranch holds such iconic status for me. The unwavering commitment to context, combined with the dream of building a rural community along with friends, is exactly how I imagine living one day—a pie-in-the-sky idea for now, but I’ll happily indulge the fantasy.

With only limited time to explore, a few of us walked along the cliffs to admire the private residences, and I felt a sharp pang of envy for those lucky enough to call this place home. Later, the famed California sunset did not disappoint, and I dashed out of dinner multiple times to photograph the lodge in blazing orange light. Even after stargazing late into the night, I woke at dawn to capture the misty morning gloom, watching the fog slowly lift from the buildings and cliffs to reveal the sun’s low rays. Shortly after, a studio visit with local photographer Arun Patel became an impromptu adventure through a nearby redwood grove, where we were suitably humbled beneath the towering trees.

One of the greatest joys of the trip was the relative solitude. Hardly anyone else was around, allowing me to savor the quiet, the remoteness, and the sheer beauty of the place uninterrupted. In writing about Sea Ranch now, I’m by no means advocating for everyone to rush out and visit at once. But if you’re equally enamored by its story, do make it a point to go someday—let’s just please keep it as special as possible.

In that vein, I’m encouraging you, Far-Flung Corners readers, to pause and consider which other buildings or monuments are on your own must-see list, and why. Perhaps there’s a personal connection: your parents took a picture in front of one during their honeymoon, or another plays a starring role in your favorite film. Or maybe it’s the engineering, the mythology, or the cultural significance that fascinates you. Ideally, it’s all of the above. For any visit, there should always be a purpose beyond following the crowds and checking a box. With a little research that goes beyond scanning a “top 10 things to see…” article, a trip immediately becomes more intentional.

Needless to say, my experience at Sea Ranch exceeded every expectation. I didn’t just “meet” my hero—I was utterly spellbound. And along my pilgrimage, I learned several things. I crave contact with nature far more than I used to. I firmly believe in sustainable development that works with the land rather than against it, and now recognize the need to champion it more actively. I deeply enjoy photography, and am gaining more skill and confidence behind the lens (a heartfelt thank-you to pro Daniel Gorostieta for the encouragement and tips!). And, perhaps most meaningfully, I was reminded why I chose to study architecture in the first place.

So here’s to many more architectural pilgrimages to come—for me, and hopefully for you too.

Dearest Readers,

Can you believe it? It’s been just over a year since I first launched Far-Flung Corners on Substack and Instagram. When I began this project, I promised myself I’d commit to it for at least 12 months and then take stock. Any seed needs time to grow and bloom, after all. And here we are.

I’ll be frank: it’s been a challenge. Finding time to write, edit, photograph, edit some more, publish, and then promote this Substack alongside my freelance and consulting work (which, let’s face it, pays the bills) is tricky, to say the least. As is navigating whether or not it’s appropriate to promote anything at all amid the current news cycle. I’m sure anyone pursuing a passion project can relate to all of the above.

While I was perhaps a little naïve launching this without much of a plan, I’m very proud of getting it off the ground. Through publishing 12 Issues, and by studying how others are using this quickly evolving platform, I feel I’ve learned a great deal about what works and what doesn’t. By reflecting on what I enjoy most and least about the process—and the digital media landscape as a whole—I’ve also developed a clearer direction for future goals and ambitions. Learning was always one of the core motivations behind this initiative, which I need to remind myself of from time to time.

The initial idea for Far-Flung Corners was to share my personal perspective on places that are undiscovered, off the beaten path, or have a unique enough design or cultural angle to warrant visiting. Transparently, the curatorial direction of the Issues so far—Volume 01, as I’ve decided to call them—was largely dictated by where I was invited to go for other assignments. Fortunately, I made it to some real stunners: everything from an Italian castle to an English manor; an Ibizan finca to an Oregon lodge. Reaching nine countries and four continents, it’s been a joyous whirlwind and an absolute privilege.

But as I wrote in my first Editor’s Letter, I want this platform to offer more than fun stories and pretty pictures. The ultimate goal is to encourage a shift in both where and how we travel. This industry is changing quickly, and sadly, more and more destinations are being spoiled by sheer numbers of visitors and a collective lack of consideration. I’m aiming to highlight lesser-known locations that might entice those with the ways, means, and desire for adventure. I’m also advocating for responsible, sustainable, “softer” travel that can lessen the impact on well-trodden sites and drive cultural and economic benefits in less-visited areas.

As this publication grows in scale, ambition, and (fingers crossed) readership, my hope is that I’ll be able to visit and cover the far-flung destinations I always intended to, in order to fulfill its wider mission. Despite the challenges, I thoroughly enjoy writing this newsletter for you, and if it makes even the smallest impact or offers a brief escape from reality, I’ll consider that a success.

So now, with all of the above in mind, I’m ready to kick off this exciting next chapter for Far-Flung Corners. Volume 02 will launch very soon with a slightly different, more refined format. Additional content to feed the algorithms, more variety for readers, and (hopefully) some fun collaborations with people, brands, and partners I love and admire. Here’s what to expect…

Re-imagined Issues

Each Far-Flung Corners Issue will still focus on a single trip or destination, but will now comprise multiple pieces of content—much like a print magazine. Spanning personal essays, reviews, guides, interviews, and whatever other article types emerge along the way, these Issues will allow me to paint a fuller picture of each place I cover. Hopefully, down the line, there will also be guest contributions, cross-Substack collaborations, print editions, IRL events… Who knows? I’m open to it all.

Some of these posts will remain free and accessible to all; others will sit behind a paywall. This ensures that the places I highlight don’t become overrun (not that my current subscriber base will ruin a location anytime soon, ha!) and allows me to begin earning a small amount from this project so I can better justify the time I spend on it.

The paid subscription fee is only $5 a month—less than a New York City coffee. I hope you’ll consider subscribing (if you don’t already) or upgrading to paid if you do. That said, I’m acutely aware that times are tough, so there’s absolutely no need to apologize if you can’t justify the expense right now.

Subscribe now

What you’ll receive in each Issue as a Far-Flung Corners subscriber:

Personal Essays

Let’s get a little more personal, shall we? Each Issue in Volume 02 will lead with a feature-style story exploring the most impactful moments, poignant experiences, or thoughtful realizations of the trip in focus. These posts are my opportunity to share all the amazing and challenging elements of travel, and to contextualize them within the wider world.

– Personal Essay posts will continue to be free and accessible to all.

Hotel Reviews

If you’re looking for recommendations or advice on where to stay, Hotel Reviews will detail the properties I visit as part of each Issue. Sometimes there’ll be one, other times several, but each will get a dedicated post offering a personal, subjective take—viewed, as usual, through a design-focused lens. I hope you’ll trust my taste and appreciate my honesty.

– Hotel Review posts will be available to paid subscribers.

Favorite Corners

I went back and forth on creating a destination guide series. So many already exist, often listing the same places and written based on hype rather than personal experience. So instead, I decided to highlight the places I visited and enjoyed on each trip. These “Favorite Corners” could be restaurants, museums, landmarks, streets I loved wandering, or spots where I simply sat and watched the world go by. Rather than a list of recommendations, consider this series an invitation to discover your own favorite corners, wherever your travels take you.

– Favorite Corners posts will be available to paid subscribers.

Quick Flings

For hospitality or cultural spaces I visit on the fly—and believe are worth a mention—I’ll share photos and short reviews directly to Instagram. I’m calling these Quick Flings (get it?!) and they’ll help me cover more of the amazing spots I encounter without overthinking the content too much.

– Quick Fling posts will be available to Instagram followers. Follow my personal IG @dahowarth as well as the @farflung.corners page for these updates.

Volume 02 Teaser

So what’s coming up? As promised, we’re going further than before. I’ll be sharing a recent pilgrimage to Sea Ranch and an escape into the wilderness of Joshua Tree—both in California while I was stuck in the US—plus a multi-leg trip to Peru that took me from the Amazon to the Andes, and much more. I hope the new format provides even more inspiration, food for thought, and, importantly, encouragement to explore the world with fewer checklists and more curiosity.

Before I sign off, I want to say a huge and heartfelt thank you to all of you who subscribe and follow along with my adventures. Friends, family, peers, colleagues, and even a few strangers—your support means the world to me.

And finally, please do reach out if you have feedback, ideas, pitches, partnership opportunities, or simply want to connect over a shared love of adventure. Wherever I am in the world, I’m only ever an email or DM away.

All my love, and safe travels!

D x

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Introduction

As much as I love the idea of relaxing, I find it very hard to switch off. When I’m doing nothing, my mind easily wanders and begins racing with ideas. I often get antsy wanting to explore new places and try new things. Maybe I have undiagnosed ADHD? Despite this, there comes a point every once in a while when I realize I really need to slow things down somewhat. And after an intense, stressful, whirlwind six months that started 2025, I needed a minute to recalibrate away from the city, and people altogether. I didn’t just want to touch grass; I yearned to be surrounded by wildlife and next to water.

The timing of an invitation to a recently renovated, riverside lodge in Southwest Oregon couldn’t have been better. A solo trip that involved a lot of scenic driving, communing with nature, walks along pebbled shores, and baking in a sauna? It hit all the right notes. I accepted the fact that I wouldn’t unwind completely (I still had work to complete, and meetings to attend both on-property and virtually), but I knew that being in the Pacific time zone and having little to no cell service would definitely help. So once I arrived to the soothing presence of the Rogue River’s languid meander and gentle babbling, I gave myself permission to clear my head and slow heart rate down to an acceptable pace. For four days, at least.

Southwest Oregon

Of all the corners of the US I’ve visited so far, Southwest Oregon might be my favorite. The drive from Medford airport towards the Pacific coast took me through some spectacular scenery, along twisting roads that followed densely forested river gorges. Then once I hit the ocean, a stretch of dramatic coastline awaited, where huge chunks of rock sculpted by the wind and waves balance almost impossibly just off the beaches. The route passed down beside these craggy behemoths, then up to clifftop lookouts that offer aerial views over them—bay after headland, after bay.

This is a land of rivers that scamper impatiently between steep gorges before turning into wide, sedentary giants that slowly meander through wide valleys as they reach their mouths. A land of Redwood trees older than most countries, thicker than shipping containers, and taller than skyscrapers, which can make any human feel insignificant. A land that meets the ocean in such powerful, cataclysmic fashion, where the clusters of enormous boulders explode out of the water. And for extra dramatic effect, all of this landscape is often shrouded in a thick fog. Strangely, there are very few high-end places to stay and experience this beauty. But luckily I had found one.

Tu Tu’ Tun Lodge

Positioned on a sweeping bend of the Rogue River, a 15-minute drive inland from where it meets the Pacific, Tu Tu’ Tun Lodge sits against a forested mountain backdrop and faces another across the wide, shallow water. The hotel’s elevated vantage on the hillside offers views that stretch along and around the valley. It’s not exactly in the wilderness, but it certainly does feel very remote. Aside from a tiny landing strip in nearby Gold Beach, the only way to get here from other parts of the country is to drive three hours from Medford (as I did), 3.5 hours from Eugene, or 5.5 hours from Portland. And other than a few RV parks, campsites, and cattle ranches, there’s not a whole lot else in the immediate vicinity.

Named after the Tututni Indigenous tribe that first inhabited the area, the original lodge was built in the 1970s and has retained the cozy, rustic charm specific to that era. Former Oregon vintner Charles Banks and his family bought the property a few years back, he told me over cocktails, and then purchased the adjacent lot that had previously hosted a trailer park. Due to the existing planning designation, the family were able to add a series of prefabricated cabins to the site to expand the accommodation offering, and tempt guests to this relatively undiscovered corner of the country with a fairly novel concept. During my stay, the demographic was mostly older couple and groups, and younger couples or friends celebrating anniversaries or birthdays—all who’d come to enjoy peace and quiet in nature.

Architecture & Design

The 1970s lodge building looks like a typical Pacific Northwest vacation outpost. A wooden A-frame forms the main structure, in which the reception, restaurant, bar, and lounge are located—all very “mountain mid-century.” A two-story block of guest rooms, designed in a similar log-cabin style, extends out to one side so that it too enjoys the best views of the river. These spaces were all updated as part of a recent renovation.

The property’s 12 prefabricated timber units, designed by ÖÖD and known as the Glass Cabins, are definitely the biggest draw. These are wrapped with mirrored glass on three sides, and scattered across the site to enjoy either mountain, creek, or river views—find more details in my article for Dezeen. Simple yet striking, these reflective volumes disappear into the greenery or shine in the sunlight, depending on the weather and time of day. It’s a neat trick, and looks very effective. But many critics (i.e. Dezeen commenters) of mirrored buildings point out their potential harm to wildlife.

Guest Rooms

I was fortunate to stay in one of the Glass Cabins, which are each adorably named after a local bird species. Although my view was mostly of other cabins in front, it was still a pleasantly surreal experience to wake up to so much light, and to witness the fog draped over mountaintops behind. Each of these compact units sleeps two, though barely offered enough space for just one, so prepare to get cozy!

It’s a slightly odd sensation staying inside a container that you can see out of but others can’t see into, particularly whilst taking a shower or laying in bed (though there are curtains if you feel uncomfortable). Walking around at night, I did notice that the lights inside the cabins created silhouettes of the occupants—sort of like the shadow-play moments in the Austin Powers movies—so there’s definitely not total privacy. Also, the wifi signal in the room was effectively non-existent. Great if you need to be forced into a digital detox; not so helpful if you end up having to answer urgent emails or take calls.

Dining & Drinking

Tu Tu’ Tun’s on-site restaurant is helmed by executive chef Derek Piva—who was behind several Tao Group hotspots—and operates a "wilderness to table" ethos that highlights Pacific Northwest farmers and businesses. Everything I ate was top-notch, from salmon with green curry sauce and a ginger salad for a kick, to French toast smothered in marshmallow and freeze-dried raspberries. But the most impressive dish was a rack of lamb on a bed of dried herbs that chef set on fire when it reached the table—so aromatic and perfectly charred.

Cocktails were equally innovative and delicious, best enjoyed on the terrace as the sun set. For those staying a few nights, be prepared to work your way through the food and drink menus, or repeat favorites, as other dining options in Gold Beach are “limited.” There is a spot called Groundling Pizza on the other side of the river, about a 15-minute drive away, which prepares yummy wood-fired pies in a no-frills, waterfront locale. But that’s about it.

Amenities & Activities

While my goal was to do nothing at Tu Tu’ Tun, and I mostly succeeded, there were a host of activities for those with more appetite for action—mostly revolving around the river. Guests can swim, take out canoes, or join one of the externally operated tour cruises from a jetty in front of the property. There’s also an outdoor pool and terrace right outside the main lodge for a less vigorous dip, and plenty of Adirondack chairs dotted around the grass in which to read or birdwatch (I saw several bald eagles).

Another smaller mirrored cabin houses a sauna, and is conveniently placed next to the river for those brave enough to partake in a natural cold plunge between sessions (I was not, though I did dip my toes in). The activities I enjoyed the most during my stay were the simplest: taking a phone-less walk along the river’s pebble beach, which was incredibly soothing, and exploring the nearby natural wonders of the Oregon coastline.

Oregon Coast

Along the Samuel H Boardman State Scenic Corridor is one of the most rugged, beautiful coastlines I’ve ever encountered. The drive along the ocean changes back and forth from towering cliffs to wide sweeping beaches every few miles, with the weather changing as quickly as the landscape. It could be sunny in one bay, only for the next to be cloaked in thick fog by the time you reach it.

In some places, the crashing waves have carved out huge arches and deep coves from the basalt. In others, massive hunks of rock are left standing lonely out to sea, and their scale is so much more impressive when viewed from the driftwood-scattered sands. There are plenty of overlooks and parking spots both high and low, and it was fun to hop between them one by one, and stop for a few minutes to marvel at the different rock formations. Since these stops are along the west, it’s easiest to pull in and out when driving north to south. My favorites were Meyers Creek, Arch Rock, and Natural Bridges, if you only have time for a few.

Redwood Forest

As soon as I learned that I’d be traveling through the Redwood forests on this trip, a pin was immediately placed in my Google map so that I stop along the way. Technically over the California state line, but still along the main Route 199 from Medford to the Oregon coast, the Jedediah Smith Redwoods State Park is a popular camping site. Several looping trails pass through the giant trees and run along the crystal-clear Smith River. Walking amongst these giants evokes a similar awe as passing through Midtown Manhattan for the first time. Except there’s no noise other than the rustling of leaves and chirping of birds, and the notion of being small is so much more exaggerated because the giants are of Mother Nature’s making, not man’s.

Note: Doubling the luck, I visited another Redwood grove during an August trip to Sea Ranch, further south down the California coast. I therefore dubbed 2025 my ‘Red Hot Redwood Summer,’ and I’ll remember it that way forever.

Cowhorn & Jacksonville

To cap-off this trip, I made a stop on the journey back at Cowhorn, the Banks family’s vineyard in the Applegate Valley. While the Willamette Valley is Oregon’s better-known wine region, this area is also home to an impressive number of producers. Cowhorn primarily grows and sells biodynamic Rhône varietals, including Viognier, Marsanne Rousanne, Grenache, Syrah, and Pinot Noir, as well as several blends. The winery itself is set in a picturesque valley, and has a tasting room and garden right beside the vines, where visitors can pair their flights with wood-fired pizza. I stayed overnight at The Overlook, a new construction up the hill that can be rented by groups, and has a gorgeous covered terrace that benefits from its elevated position over the vineyard.

Cowhorn also operates a small restaurant in Jacksonville, a historic gold-mining town 20 minutes north of the vineyard—not far from Medford, where I began this trip. Here, diners can sample the estate’s various wines with complementary dishes. I wolfed down a carrot-four-ways appetizer, and the lime sorbet blew my mind. The town of Jacksonville was surprisingly very charming, with its main street that looks straight out of a Western movie. Its center is listed on the National Historic Register, and there are a handful of cute cafes, saloon-style bars, and gift shops to entertain visitors.

Ending the journey here, I was gently eased back into the real world after filling my cup with the wildlife and water I was craving. I did manage to switch-off and relax after all, and it was because I was able to disappear into one of the most beautiful yet relatively undiscovered parts of the US. So let’s keep it our secret, shall we?

Thank Yous

Many thanks to Halle Lipov and Lily Daniel from Mona Creative for the invitation, booking my flights, and coordinating my stays at Tu Tu’ Tun and Cowhorn. Thanks to Charles Banks, Mini Byers, and their extended friends and family for welcoming and entertaining me so warmly. And the Tu Tu’ Team, particularly restaurant manager Hannah, thanks all so much for your genuine hospitality. D x

Introduction

When your friends invite you to a wedding in Provence, you go. The flights are booked without hesitation and an entire trip is immediately planned around the festivities. No questions asked! Some people grumble about destination weddings; I will attend any and all to which I’m invited. It’s such a great excuse to travel; even better if it’s somewhere you haven’t been before, or have been dreaming of visiting for years. Plus, you get to enjoy a vacation with a combination of friends and family, whether yours or someone else’s, and can always sneak away afterwards for some alone time.

Our dear friends Tom and Val organized their nuptials in the South of France in May, so we flew over from New York via Paris to Marseilles, and drove just over an hour to the villa we rented. Leading up to the wedding, my husband Jonathan, our friend Jackson, and I spent a week exploring the region with my parents, who had traveled from the UK a few days before and ensured our trips overlapped—since I rarely get to see them. We then thoroughly enjoyed the long weekend of beautiful wedding festivities and celebrations, which revolved around an incredible chateau close to Carpentras. I won’t go into more details, but it was truly very special.

Once the partying was over, Jonathan and I stayed on for a couple more days a little further east, at another gorgeous property (there’s no shortage of them around those parts) before continuing on to Barcelona by train. Our time in Provence was every bit as amazing as we had expected, so this issue is dedicated to the places and experiences we had either side of the wedding. Hopefully some to bookmark for your next visit!

Provence

Provence is as magical as everyone says. The old stone farmhouses set amongst vineyards that stretch up rolling hillsides; quaint little towns with narrow streets and tiny restaurants, in which local life plays out at a glacial pace (in the best possible way); grand historic chateaus that preside over meticulously landscaped gardens. All of this really exists, and it’s even more romantic and charming IRL. And although we were too early for lavender season, which is usually June-August, this fortunately meant fewer crowds.

A big incentive for us to visit Provence was to sample the wines. Whenever we drink rosé at home, we opt for Provençal imports because they’re light, fresh, not too sweet but still flavorful. It’s not just pinks for which the region is renowned either. Several grape varieties thrive in the region—the vines benefit from the warm climate, while they’re also gently cooled by the mistral winds that dance across the hillsides. Needless to say, we sampled quite a substantial amount of wine during our trip, all while exploring a whole host of towns, villages, vineyards, restaurants, and landscapes. I’ve listed a few of our favorites from this 10-day trip below…

L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue

For the week leading up to the wedding, we stayed at a farmhouse-style villa in the hills above L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue—a very picturesque town located, as its name suggests, on and around a small island between converging branches of the River Sorgue. With its many weirs and bridges, narrow cobbled streets, plenty of local restaurants, and an adorable antique market on Sundays, this was a perfect base to plant ourselves and explore the region. A couple of recommendations: Dinner at Au Chineur overlooking the river, and happy hour at 17 Place aux Vins in the church square.

Château La Coste

Wine and amazing art and architecture? Say less! Château La Coste is Provence’s answer to Storm King in Upstate New York—a sprawling property dotted with large-scale sculptures, pavilions, and landscape interventions from international names like Oscar Niemeyer, Richard Rogers, Frank Gehry, Damien Hirst, Louise Bourgeois, Richard Serra, and countless more. Quite the collection. We ate lunch at the Tadao Ando-designed restaurant before rushing to our wine tour and tasting, then walked it all off on a self-guided tour of the estate using a map we purchased for a small fee. The wooded hillsides are dotted with the structures and artworks, some of them a fair trek away, and there’s also a hotel tucked away in a peaceful corner. A quick coffee and sweet treat at La Terrasse, the estate’s casual outdoor cafe, capped off a wonderful day out.

Château La Coste is one of the spots included in a guide to Provençal wineries I wrote for Wine Enthusiast, which was compiled based on this trip.

Hôtel Crillon le Brave

The next time we come back to Provence, this is where I hope we’ll be staying. Hôtel Crillon le Brave is a stunning property in a tiny village of the same name, which overlooks a valley of vineyards and olive groves that extend to Mont Ventoux in the distance. The hotel occupies a collection of eight restored stone houses that are stepped down the hillside and connected by bridges, alleys, and courtyards. We stopped by to have lunch at La Table du Ventoux, chef Thomas Lesage’s gourmet restaurant that’s a triumphant celebration of the region’s famed cuisine. The light and flavorful family-style dishes are served en plein air on a stylish, parasol-shaded terrace with panoramic views over the valley. This was a perfect vantage point to watch the rainclouds tumble over the far-off peaks and gather speed towards us, prompting a swift shift indoors just before the heavens opened. The way the storm darkened the sky and brought such a torrential downpour was so spectacular, it made watching from the sheltered spot while enjoying our food and wine all the more memorable.

Saint-Rémy-de-Provence

This super charming town has been a favorite of artists, fashion designers, and other creatives and celebrities for decades. Its center is compact and easily walkable within an hour, so why not do so in the morning, before lunch at one of the courtyard-adjacent eateries. We joined some of the wedding party at La Maison Favier, where we dined and drank in their back terrace that was rather tight for such a large group, but we made it work. Afterwards, we popped into a couple of stores, including a Diptyque boutique that turned out to situated in the front rooms of a tiny guest, La Maison du Village. Across the street, a little shop named Arum sold chic homeware and high-end beach accessories, plus a few local souvenirs. Elsewhere along our route we purchased some €10 espadrilles and an ice cream each—a nice high-low balance.

Les Baux-de-Provence

Perched high in the mountains on a rocky bluff, this medieval citadel was probably the most tourist-y spot we visited, but luckily it wasn’t too busy on a Thursday afternoon. It’s evident why this was such a strategic and hotly contested site for so many centuries: the views from atop the ruined castle battlements stretched for miles, and the precipitous slopes would undoubtedly be tricky to scale in any hurry, or without being spotted and arrowed. The castle was fun to explore, and involved scrambling over the eroded stones, though the “museum” experience that one might expect from a ticketed site wasn’t really offered. The village surrounding the fortifications was also very picturesque, but too commercialized to feel authentic. Worth a visit overall, but I suggest avoiding weekends (my parents, who’d been a few days prior, said it had been rather overrun).

Lauris

A tiny little hilltop town full of cats! Jonathan and I intended to come here for lunch, but quickly discovered we were too late and that everything was closed for the typically Mediterranean mid-afternoon hiatus. So we simply wandered around the narrow streets between rugged stone cottages, with their blue-painted doors and facades covered in flowers. We also tried to coax any sleepy kitties we found into saying hi to us, but they were not interested. Watching the locals go about the day at their own pace and observing what rural Provençal life is really like—far away from any tourists—ended up being another one of my favorite moments of the trip.

Domaine de Fontenille

After the wedding events wrapped up, Jonathan and I slipped away to enjoy two nights at Domaine de Fontenille, a boutique hotel with 21 rooms and suites nestled into the hillside of the Luberon massif—a little further east than most of the places we’d visited on the trip so far. The tranquility and slow pace of the property was exactly what we needed, and we relished the opportunity to switch off for a couple of days and actually relax. We rarely get to do this on trips, and that’s usually my fault. I can’t help but jam-pack an itinerary!

Apart from its remote location, what first struck me about the Domaine was its authenticity. The buildings and grounds had clearly been updated over time, but nothing felt overdone or inappropriate for the age or style of the property. Everything is very well maintained, and feels chic and idyllic without being too precious or pretentious. It’s a great little hidden spot, particularly for couples, which I’m very glad we discovered.

Note: Check out my review of Domaine de Fontenille on Hotels Above Par.

Architecture & Design

The existing 18th-century bastide (a manor house, for us Englishmen) sits adjacent to a site that has been officially registered as wine-growing land since 1638. The building is typical of noble houses in the region, featuring a symmetrical, flat main facade with rows of large windows flanked by shutters. The current main entrance through huge iron gates brings visitors into a graveled courtyard formed by the back of the house and outbuildings, which leads into the hotel reception via large glass doors straight ahead. What were once the vaulted wine cellars are now event spaces, while the guest rooms occupy the upper floors.

The bastide’s southerly orientation allows the interior spaces to be washed with natural light during the day, though most are compact enough to still feel cozy at night. The design team relied heavily on the building’s beautiful bones, but that’s really all that was needed. Exposed stone, plastered walls, and dark metal hardware all connect with its agrarian history; elevated enough for the nobles, casual enough for the workers. One of the property’s biggest draws is the landscaping, which follows a traditional French style: symmetrical layouts comprising orthogonal pathways, strict lines of sentinel trees, box hedges, and potted plants, plus the odd fountain for a touch of drama wherever it’s deemed appropriate.

Guest Rooms

While most of the guest rooms are located in the main building, ours was one of the recently renovated batch in the outbuildings behind. The ground-level room was bright and airy, with simple and fresh neutral paint, sage green accents, and stone-tiled floors creating a contemporary interpretation of a traditional Provençal farmhouse. The bed was incredibly comfortable, while the shower leaked water everywhere—a very European bathroom issue. The best part about the room was the terrace outside. Not particularly private, as those walking to the swimming pool could easily see past the hedges, but the loungers just outside the door for laying in the sun with a glass of wine was ideal.

Dining & Drinking

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served at the hotel’s restaurant, La Cuisine d'Amélie, and, if you’re not careful, these meals can sneakily all blend together into one daylong sitting. The terrace in front of the bastide overlooks the landscaped gardens and is shaded by giant trees, so it’s the perfect spot sip coffee and nibble pastries long enough for the lunch menus to be put out. A few more bites and several glasses of wine later, and before you know it, the sun is setting and it’s time to eat again. The food was solid, and our favorites on the seasonal dinner menu included the sea bass ceviche with spiced guacamole and rocket salad, and the braised lamb. Naturally, several of the Domaine’s wines (including the rosés!) are served at the restaurant, so you can make your way through those while pairing them with the food. Or you can simply order by the bottle and enjoy in any corner of the property.

Amenities & Experiences

This is by no means an activity-forward destination. If you begin to feel antsy, take a stroll through the gardens, play boule, or swim some laps of the outdoor pool tucked off to the side of the bastide. Otherwise, nestle into a chair or lounger with a book or headphones, reserve a massage or facial at the spa, and simply unwind. There was never a fight over pool loungers during our stay, and aside from the restaurant, most of the seating areas were free throughout the day and evening as well. Most are here for the experiences hosted across the street at the winery, which offers tours, tastings, and courses like the one we tried (keep reading!). The best part? Being able to easily stumble back to the comfort of our room afterwards.

Becoming a “Blend Master”

I feel like I know a decent amount about wine (thank you Dad!) but I am by no means an expert, so I gladly welcome any opportunity to learn more. At Domaine de Fontenille, Jonathan and I were treated to a Blend Master Experience—one of the winery’s more immersive offerings. The two-hour session includes a tour of the production facilities and an in-depth explanation about the varieties of grapes grown across the Luberon region’s ‘terroir,’ before the tasting begins.

We sampled all of the different red-grape varieties that the Domaine produces, and were told about their qualities, properties, and typical uses. Then, we had to deduce which we wanted to blend together, and in what quantities, to create our own wine. More than a typical tasting, this really made us think about what we were drinking, and helped us to better retain the knowledge that had just been shared with us. We experimented with a couple of different blends, before settling on an option that we thought was balanced and tasty. This was then recreated in enough quantity for two bottles, corked, and sealed (with our help here too), and finally labelled with our signature: Les Petits Chats. Overall, this was such a fun, educational, and delightfully different way to experience a wine tasting, and highly recommended for novices and experts alike.

Thank Yous

First and foremost, thank you to Tom Arena and Valentin Guillement for inviting us to your wedding. It was such a special experience to celebrate you and your love, which we were so honored, excited, and grateful to be involved in. And thanks to your extended families and all of our fellow guests for their hospitality, kindness, humor, and love too. Marie Rozet, thank you for having us at Château La Coste and accommodating our group. Olivia Pascoe at Grifco, we’re so thankful to you for coordinating our lunch at Hôtel Crillon le Brave, and Guy Lombard, huge thanks to you and your team for your generous hospitality and delicious food while we were there.

Thanks so much to Anne-Cecile Blanchot, Kimberley Blanchot, Jennifer Reich and the team at August 28 Studio for setting up our stay at Domaine de Fontenille. A massive thank you to Antoine Paques for your knowledge and humor during our Blend Master Experience, you made drinking wine even more enjoyable. And to all the family and friends I got to spend time with during this trip, I’m forever grateful for you. Our final bottle count shall never be revealed, because we couldn’t possibly keep track… D x

Introduction

I have never been a spiritual person. I even roll my eyes to myself as soon as anyone mentions astrology (very Aquarius of me, I’m told). My brain is firmly rooted in logic, facts, and proof—perhaps to a fault—and therefore I have never really connected with any ideas beyond what I can see and hear around me. I’m not at all closed-minded, and I fully support anyone else’s connections to religion or/and spirituality (and will fight ardently for everyone’s rights to exercise their beliefs, as long as it causes no harm to others). But it’s just not for me.

That was until a recent trip to Bali, during which I was immersed in a culture and its practices in a way that made me delve into the purpose of spirituality, and wonder if I was missing out. Travel has a knack for provoking introspection—you have a lot of time with your own thoughts, in places that upend typical routines, and are exposed to new ways of living and thinking. So it’s natural to observe, to question, and to get in your own head. I believe everyone should take a solo trip at least once in their lives, if they’re able to, because it opens up experiences just like the one I had. Although this particular trip wasn’t entirely solo (I was with two other journalists and a brand representative), I did have enough time alone to contemplate.

Excitingly, this is the furthest I’ve been “flung” since starting this Substack, and my first trip to Asia in over a decade. I was invited to experience three Ritz-Carlton properties: The Ritz-Carlton Bangkok, The Ritz-Carlton Bali, and Mandapa, a Ritz-Carlton Reserve—quite the itinerary for 12 days. However, my journey over there was less than ideal.

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I was weirdly looking forward to the 15-hour flight from NYC to Mumbai, then another 4.5-hour leg to Bangkok, because it seemed like an ideal time to be productive with few distractions. But the Air India wi-fi was not up to much, so I couldn’t get any work done. And much worse, the flight was delayed out of JFK so I missed my connection in Mumbai. With no other direct flights to Bangkok for 24 hours, and no ability to leave the terminal because I didn’t have a visa for India, I was stuck in “airport purgatory” for 10 miserable hours. I eventually rebooked on Batik Air (which I’d never heard of?!) via Kuala Lumpur, and [I lost count how many] hours later, I was in Bangkok. But let’s skip forward a few days… After a whirlwind tour and a tuk-tuk bar crawl around the Thai capital, then a much smoother journey to Bali and a magical three nights in Nusa Dua (all to be recounted in-full another time), I finally got to the part of the trip I was most eagerly anticipating.

Bali

Bali has been high on my list of dream destinations for so many years. Beyond the Eat, Pray, Love fantasy that Julia Roberts instilled in me, the Indonesian island has always had a magical draw that I couldn’t shake: the rainforests, the beaches, the temples, and the mystery surrounding its unique culture and customs.

Aside from a hungover day trip from Singapore to Bintan in my 20s, when I experienced the worst sunburn of my life, this was my first real trip to Indonesia—one of the world’s fastest growing populations, spread across an archipelago of over 17,000 islands. Of all these, Bali receives the most visitors, and has done a great job over the years of marketing itself as a desirable destination. Many travelers to Bali opt for the beach, surf, and party culture of Kuta and Seminyak, on the island’s southwest coast, while others venture inland for the rainforest, religious sites, and volcano hiking—or, since coming all this way, combine both. I think there are better beaches in other parts of SE Asia, so the latter is personally more enticing.

Although Indonesia is a majority Muslim country, Balinese people by-and-large follow a very specialized branch of Hinduism that’s a blend of Indian Hinduism, Buddhism, and indigenous animistic beliefs that developed centuries ago. Entwining ancestral worship and a vast pantheon of gods and goddesses, this culture is expressed through a unique architectural and craft style, daily rituals, annual festivals and celebrations, and an overall way of life that’s deeply connected to spiritual practices.

While it’s hot and humid year-round, Bali’s dry season is typically April to October. However, every local I met encouraged me to come back for Nyepi, the Balinese “Day of Silence”—the island’s new year celebration that takes place during the new moon in March. The night before this sacred festival, elaborate bamboo and paper-mache effigies known as Ogoh-Ogoh are paraded through the streets and then burned as a way to purify the world of evil spirits. Then, on “new year’s day,” the entire island goes dark and quiet. For 24 hours, flights are cancelled, electricity is turned off (except for emergencies), cell phones are cast aside, and the population is encouraged to spend time with family and reflect peacefully by candlelight. Also, due to the removal of light pollution, this is an ideal moment for stargazing. It sounds like heaven, and I would love to experience this one day. Instead, we were there early May.

Ubud

Ubud is the cultural and spiritual heart of Bali, and is home to many ancient temples, palaces, springs, and other religious sites. The city sprawls across unusual geography: finger-like ridges stretch down from the volcanoes further north, with deep, densely forested gorges and fast running rivers in between. Main roads follow the ridges and are lined with commercial and residential buildings either side, while terraced rice paddies fill the flatter areas, and small roads and bridges link them all together. There’s no real “center” of town, and it takes a long time to get anywhere on the narrow streets, as it’s common to get stuck behind slow-moving vehicles.

Ubud has recently become associated with the “digital nomad” crowd, and there’s a lot of westerners parading around town in sarongs, or posted-up at the myriad bars and cafes. But there are also some great local boutiques—I really liked Biasa for flowy linens—and plenty of spots where authenticity still rings true. Accommodation options cater for every budget, with many hidden deep in the jungle so that the street bustle feels miles away. The area offers hiking, caving, quad biking, white-water rafting, waterfall excursions, and of course, tours of the sacred monuments like the Water Palace, which we visited and watched visitors “purify” themselves during elaborate bathing rituals. Be warned: you’ll be hard-pressed to do more than a couple of things a day. I recommend staying at least a week.

Mandapa

This is one of the most unique properties I’ve ever stayed at. Mandapa is one of eight Ritz-Carlton Reserve properties around the world, each of which leans into its cultural context much harder than the brand’s typical hotels, which share a similar design style and amenity offering. In Bali, this equates to a stunningly beautiful property on land owned by a local family, which still farms the rice paddy at the property’s heart.

Arrival from the built-up area, along a seemingly innocuous alley, then past a guard post down to a traditional split gate known as a “candi bentar.” These stepped, decorated brick and stone gates are found across Bali and neighboring Java, everywhere from religious sites to private homes, and feature flat surfaces on either side of the entryway as if one structure has been halved down the middle and pulled apart. Once through this threshold and within the Mandapa perimeter, busy Ubud melts away, and a tranquil world that’s very close to my idea of heaven awaits.

The hotel’s expansive lobby is perched high above a valley, through which a raging river that’s popular with white-water rafters cuts its path. From up in the open-sided buildings surrounded by shallow pools, the layout of accommodation and ancillary structures can be seen staggering down the slope all the way to the water. The steep site is best navigated by chauffeured golf buggy, which offers quite the thrill ride along precipitous paved tracks and around hairpin turns—especially if you’re facing backwards.

Throughout my stay, the service offered was impeccable. All of the staff, who refer to guests as “bapak” (sir) or “ibu” (madam), were friendly and chatty without being overbearing, and very happy to offer tidbits of local facts and knowledge with a smile. I really felt like I was experiencing an authentic slice of Bali, all while in a luxury resort—which is not easy to pull off.

Architecture & Design

It’s very hard to make something that’s only a decade old appear as if it’s been there for centuries, without looking like a pastiche. But Mandapa’s stone and wood buildings have settled gracefully into the hillside and allowed the tropical flora to do most of the work. Granted, the stonework was specially treated to give an aged appearance, and the landscaping is very intentional, but overall it looks effortlessly ancient in the places it’s supposed to. Traditional Balinese architecture has been interpreted fairly faithfully across the site, and guests are put under the spell of staying in a rural village—albeit a very fancy one.

One of the most striking architectural gestures on-site is the kid’s club, which occupies a snaking bamboo structure covered in wood shingles. A stark contrast to the pitched, thatched roof buildings across the property, this organic, contemporary volume cuts a striking silhouette against the deep green of the jungle behind. Another stand-out feature is the rice paddy hut, a small thatched structure right at the heart of Mandapa. This would typically be used as a shelter for farmers taking a break from harvesting their crops, and a place to store and dry the rice. Here, it’s a fun little folly that anchors the property and stands as a proud nod to Bali’s agricultural heritage.

Guest Rooms

I could easily have moved into the villa that was to be my secluded sanctuary for three nights. Mine (number 5) was one of the higher in elevation and most northerly of the 25 in this room category, which are scattered across the mid-to-lower areas of the site. Reached via a path of stepping stones, past tall moss-covered walls and a fountain, the gateway into my complex is topped with a traditional thatched roof. Beyond the wooden double doors, a lush oasis awaits.

The spacious, luxurious suite encompasses a main building with a large bedroom on one side and an equally roomy bathroom on the other. In the bedroom, walls are hand-painted in a traditional style (think The White Lotus season three opening sequence) and windows frame the tropical foliage outside. Glass doors swing open to a terrace that overlooks the infinity pool, stretching into the jungle beyond—a truly gorgeous setting of which I took way too many photos.

The bathroom features a vanity on either side (I used one for hand/face washing and teeth cleaning, and the other for fixing my hair, because why not?), as well as a large soaking tub, and separate spaces for the Japanese-style toilet (the all-singing kind) and a shower. Beyond the indoor shower is another outside that’s surrounded by huge tropical leaves and has stones underfoot, providing the stage for your very own Herbal Essences commercial whenever it’s time to rinse off. I personally love an outdoor shower and if it’s there, it’s all I’ll use.

The villa suite also has a separate pitched-roof pavilion a few steps away containing a living area for relaxing and watching TV, as well as a desk if needed, with sliding screens that open the space fully to the elements on three sides. Surrounded by greenery, this room is somehow both airy and cozy, and the low lighting at night both inside and across the landscaping really sets a seductive mood. In-room amenities include a batik-patterned robe (embroidered with my full name), and a straw hat and bag (which came in handy during one of our excursions). I honestly didn’t ever want to leave the villa at all, and would’ve been perfectly content to have spent the full duration relaxing within its confines. But I had a job to do.

Dining & Drinking

Julia Roberts may have done the “eat” portion of her global journey in Italy, but really she could’ve just come straight to Bali for that too. Indonesian cuisine is so flavorful and the ingredients—particularly fruits like mango, my fave—are incredibly fresh. I ate so much on this trip that it’s a miracle I didn’t gain more weight. Mandapa’s dining options include Ambar, located just off the lobby and with breathtaking views across the valley from its lofty perch. Open to outside diners as well as hotel guests, the restaurant serves a delicious sushi-forward menu, but this is really the spot to come for sunset cocktails (I made my way through most of the list; all great) when it’s buzzy with beautiful people.

Lower down, Sawah Terrace (where the buffet breakfast is also served) is the most locally authentic option, celebrating Indonesian cuisine against a backdrop of traditional music and dance performances. During the day, The Pool Bar has more Western and international dishes for the less adventurous—many of which are also available on the in-room dining menu. Eating in the villa, which I did a couple of times, is highly recommended as the setting is so stunning and all of the food is top notch. Finally, for fine-dining, riverside Kubu offers an experimental 10-course menu based on a zero-waste philosophy. All of the ingredients are sourced from within 100 km of the hotel, and the dramatic bamboo structure and series of private tables within basket-like pods—modeled on traditional fishing equipment—make for a surreal evening setting.

Amenities & Experiences

Having already been spoiled with two massages on this trip, I opted for a facial that incorporated 24K gold leaf for my complimentary spa treatment, and thanks to the churning sounds of the river just outside the treatment room, it was just as relaxing as a massage would’ve been. Saunas and steam rooms are available in the chicly decorated changing rooms, while a gym (didn’t have time, again) and rooms for group therapies also feature in the spa complex at the bottom of the site. In one of these rooms we were given a Sound Bath, which put me straight to sleep.

Elsewhere, the hotel has a communal swimming pool in front of the breakfast restaurant, overlooking the rice paddy and the opposite slope, which I didn’t get a chance to enjoy either—mainly because I spent the time in my villa’s private pool. I already mentioned the kid’s club, which appeared to be very well programmed with activities that include daily visits from two cows who would stop by for photo ops.

One of the off-property experiences we were able to enjoy was a foraging excursion with Chef Eka. In a fleet of bright orange Volkswagen Acapulco Things (open-top optional, very much weather-dependant), we convoyed north to a community farm where the chef led us through the jungle to point out various types of plants, herbs, fruits used in his cooking, and had us taste many along the way. At the end of the short hike, a spread of pre-prepared delicacies and fruits were waiting for us to sample, with the promise that we’d taste more during our meal at Kubu later in the trip.

Fire Blessing Ceremony

Another of the experiences on my itinerary was a Fire Blessing Ceremony at Mandapa’s historic temple, which was used by the landowners long before the hotel arrived. Admittedly, I initially wasn’t super keen on spending two hours of my short time at the resort engaged in an activity to which I had no connection or real need. But not wishing to offend, and for the sake of journalism, I joined in with the group.

Dressed in traditional garments provided to us, we sat in a circle on a podium around a small central fire and in front of a priest, who had fasted for two days prior in order to perform the ceremony. I won’t provide a blow-by-blow account, but in essence, the priest blessed foods and grains with water for us to toss into the fire while we chanted mantras in unison. At one point, we had to smash coconuts on the ground as a way to break our bad habits and throw out our insecurities. The whole thing took a long time, it was hot, and my legs began to cramp from sitting too long. But it did compel me to consider why these kinds of rituals are part of so many cultures, and the benefits of having the opportunity to get lost in one’s thoughts.

Spirituality gives us meaning and purpose in an otherwise meaningless and purpose-less world. It once provided our ancestors with answers to questions that they didn’t have the means or tools to comprehend, and it still does the same for us today. Prayer creates space and time to reflect; to think about what we want; decide what we want to leave behind; celebrate who we love; remember who we miss. It’s a powerful moment we have to ourselves, to use however we wish. And I’m beginning to understand the importance of that.

I’m by no means a religious convert. But I do think that this ceremony, and the greater immersion in a culture that expresses its spirituality so vibrantly, allowed me to deepen my appreciation for others’ connections to religious practices, and has encouraged me to integrate more moments of pause and reflection into my daily life. I’m very grateful to have had this opportunity, and it reaffirmed to me the importance of these kinds of experiences that only travel can offer. Anyone who’s able to should get out of their comfort zone and immerse themselves in another culture. I guarantee they’ll be all the better for it.

Thank Yous

Another lengthy list this time! Thank you to Nathan Kovach from BPCM for initially inviting me on this incredible trip. To his colleagues Diona Richardson, Talia Kairouz, Dhani Hoyte, and Lauryn Bivens for arranging travel and trying to rebook my missed flight even though it was 4am in NYC. Emily Moir from the Ritz-Carlton team, so many thanks for shepherding us around Asia, making sure we were happy and well looked after, and being the travel companion who was always ready for a cocktail with me. Thanks to Maddie Flagler for enduring our nightmare travel day together with composure and a smile, then being such a great sport through every activity we did as a group. And thanks to Ritu Upadhyay for being my personal trip photographer, and for always having a great story to tell over dinner.

The Mandapa team!! Thanks endlessly for being so full of joy, laughter, and enthusiasm during all the time you spent with us. A special thanks to Chef Eka for taking us foraging, sharing his incredible knowledge and passion for food, and preparing such delicious, authentic Indonesian dishes for us. This is a trip I will never ever forget. D x

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Introduction

“La Dolce Vita” gets thrown around a lot when discussing Italian travel destinations. “The Sweet Life” indeed encapsulates the mornings spent languidly sipping a cappuccino while watching the world wake up, before days strolling around tiny historic villages either side of three-hour lunches. Then there’s evenings devoted to aperitivo drinks sipped in front of a gorgeous sunset view, and nights indulging in decadent pasta, vino, and gelato. But the phrase also hints at a glamor that only Italy offers. This lifestyle was captured in the 1960 Federico Fellini film of the same name, and its principles of enjoyment, relaxation, and being present hit particularly hard today. So maybe it’s overused, but it feels appropriate for this particular trip. Get into it!

I have been traveling to Milan in April for the annual Salone del Mobile furniture fair and is adjacent events since I was an editorial assistant at Dezeen, many moons ago. Initially coming from London, and more recently from NYC, I’ve always tried to use the opportunity to explore Italy either before or after the design week frenzy—tacking on visits to Cinque Terre, Rome, Venice, Tuscany, and more over the years. In 2025, I was invited to stay at Grand Hotel Tremezzo on Lake Como, and since I haven’t visited the area for a decade, this seemed like fate. I flew overnight to Malpensa, which is just over an hour’s drive to the lake’s southern end, and caught the sun’s rise over the hilltops as we ascended onto the narrow mountain roads. A perfect start to an all-too-brief, two-night stay.

Lake Como

Is there anywhere more glamorous than Lake Como? Okay, maybe the French Riviera, the Swiss ski resorts, and a few other Italian destinations like Capri or the Amalfi Coast are strong contenders too. But this special body of water has the edge for me: the grand stately villas, the perfectly manicured gardens, the sexy little vintage speedboats that ferry immaculately dressed people across the water. Its close proximity to ultra-stylish fashion and design capital Milan has contributed to the associated glitz and prestige, and has shaped the crowd that generally gravitates here.

The Milanese have been escaping to Como’s cooler climes during the summer for centuries, and the city’s wealthy families commissioned the palatial homes that still overlook the water’s edge. During the early 20th century, others started to catch on, and several purpose-built villas and palazzos were created to accommodate the growing number of visitors from across Europe and beyond.

Despite its popularity, the lake has somehow managed to retain its exclusive reputation, and for decades it’s been renowned as a celebrity playground—names like Donatella Versace, Richard Branson, and Madonna are all supposed to own property here. Every local I met was quick to remind me that George Clooney has a house on Lake Como, and each had their own story or spotting of the actor at some point over the years to tell me. Events like the Concorso d'Eleganza, a vintage car show hosted annually at Villa d’Este that first brought me to Lake Como in 2015, have also bolstered the area’s reputation as a decadent destination.

Lake Como’s geography is defined by its long, narrow shape, and is by-and-large divided into its western and eastern shores. The town of Como sits at the southern-most end, closest to Milan and Malpensa airport, then small villages—including their handful of luxury hotels—are sprinkled up the steep mountain slopes on either side of the water. Narrow winding roads and a complicated network of ferries connect these hamlets, but zig-zagging across the lake on public vessels can be slightly tricky, which I discovered first-hand. I was invited to an event in Torno (east) while staying in Tremezzo (west), but it was near impossible to find an easy ferry route to get there, and driving by car would’ve taken well over an hour. Another instance in life when having my own boat could’ve solved all my problems in that moment.

Grand Hotel Tremezzo

Celebrating its 115th season this year, Grand Hotel Tremezzo (GHT going forward) is celebrated as the old lady of the lake. But she’s the elegantly dressed older lady wearing a Brunello Cucinelli suit, adorned with a gorgeous silk scarf, and still wearing heels while riding her Vespa. If she ever lost her charm at any point during her long lifespan, there’s certainly no evidence of that today. And she’s never short of visitors, whether they’re hotel guests, or those coming to dine at the restaurants or drink at the bars in equally chic attire.

GHT was the first purpose-built hotel on Lake Como, and still holds a reputation as one of its finest. For 50 years it has been owned and operated by the De Santis family, who also run another regional favorite: Passalacqua (which we’ll get to another time). The family, and namely CEO Valentina De Santis, clearly take great pride in the property, both as a historical landmark and vibrant modern gathering place. Balancing the old-world glamor that’s in keeping with the building and the contemporary flair of the outdoor spaces is executed perfectly, so the spaces feel neither stuffy nor inappropriate.

Once I’d arrived, it quickly became evident that GHT is a “see and be seen” spot, and many visitors would show up throughout the days and nights in their finery to revel in the setting. The hotel guests themselves were a mix of British newlyweds on their honeymoons, older American couples, and groups of friends or young families from Europe and the Middle East—at least while I was staying there. Apart from the staff, there were no Italians to be found, perhaps because it was too early in the season?

Architecture & Design

Like a Wes Anderson fantasy, GHT is housed within a pastel-hued, perfectly symmetrical Art Nouveau building that’s quite the lakefront landmark. While the titular property in Anderson’s 2014 movie The Grand Budapest Hotel was allegedly modeled on a combination of the Grandhotel Pupp and the Hotel Bristol Palace in Karlovy Vary, Czech Republic, GHT could have easily served an understudy for its exterior. Butter-yellow paintwork is spread deliciously between the gaps in ornate stone detailing across the upper levels, while the lower floors open onto terraces either side of a plant-covered imperial staircase.

Inside, rich red and ochre decor, dark-wood furniture, gilded picture frames, and over-the-top drapery all create a theatrical environment fit for the setting. From the forecourt, an antique-mirrored tunnel to an elevator takes guests up to the second-floor lobby. The doors open to palatial reception lounge, which connects to several equally opulent “salas” housing the dining and drinking areas. A grand staircase straight ahead then leads up to the back gardens and Flowers Pool area, then the guest rooms and suites (also accessible by more elevators).

One of the hotel’s defining features is its “water on water” swimming pool, which extends out into the lake directly in front of the hotel (across a busy street). The bright turquoise of the pool contrasts the lake’s deep blue, while speedboats zip around the perimeter and an umbrella-covered terrace forms a backdrop. In all, it’s a picture-perfect spot (and an idea that several other Lake Como hotels have employed, too).

Speaking of umbrellas, GHT’s signature color—a dazzling and suitably Aperol-adjacent orange—really packs a punch across the hotel’s shading devices, as well as awnings, chair and lounger upholstery, towels, menus… You get the idea. I talked about the power of a bold brand hue in the previous issue on Eden Rock, and it’s employed just as effectively here. Mixed in equal parts with white, its the perfect counterpart to the mountain greenery and lake-water blues, and makes ordering an Aperol Spritz from any of the hotel bars almost mandatory. While GHT has no formal partnership with the brand, a collaboration of some kind must be on the horizon in the near future. Surely?!

Guest Rooms

Flicking through the hotel’s website, it’s evident that the majority of the rooms and suites are as lavishly appointed as the public spaces (I didn’t see any other than my own). Their number was decreased this year from 84 to 80, to allow for more in the larger suite category, which includes the Rooftop Corner Suite that I stayed in. These have a more contemporary aesthetic than the other rooms, while still aligned with the prevalent opulent decor—just a little more pared back, which I appreciated.

The Bellagio Corner Suite comprises a cozy olive-green bedroom, next to a sizable marble-lined bathroom arranged around a central, two-sided double vanity and a tub beneath the window overlooking the lake. A corridor leads to a separate, also green living room with sofas and a television, which opens onto a gorgeous roof terrace. This is the highlight of the suite by far, with wraparound views of the botanical gardens at neighboring Villa Carlotta, and a sweeping lake vista that encompasses the village of Bellagio on the opposite shore and the snow-capped mountains behind. Even better, the terrace has a personal jacuzzi designed for sipping champagne in (there was a bottle waiting for me on arrival) and gazing out across the water.

Eating & Drinking

GHT has multiple dining options, so we’ll start from the morning service and move through the day. Breakfast is served at La Terrazza, which, surprise surprise, occupies a covered terrace overlooking the lake on the hotel’s lobby level. An absolutely gorgeous buffet spread laid out inside has a very diverse offering, but is particularly geared towards pastry lovers (guilty!), while an a la carte menu is also available. The cappuccinos are 90 percent foam, so I had two per morning to get enough actual coffee inside me, and the fresh orange juice is beautifully sharp.

Lunch option one is T Pizza, located beside the Flowers Pool at the back of the property, where the Naples-trained “pizzaioli” cook up top-notch fare in the wood-burning oven (best enjoyed on a lounger with a Peroni, if you ask me). The alternative for lunch is Da Giacomo Al Lago, the stunning spot that occupies the lido-style waterside deck across the road from the hotel entrance. A collaboration with Milanese favorite, Da Giacomo, this seafood-forward menu is a pescatarian dream. I personally preferred this spot for sunset aperitivo, for which of course I ordered several Aperol Spritzes and watched the boats pass by. The restaurant also offers a dinner menu from May to September, for which I was too early.

For dinner, L’Escale Trattoria and Wine Bar is the more casual but still sophisticated option, rustling up traditional local dishes like cacio e pepe, which is made table-side within a giant parmesan wheel. There’s the option to dine al fresco with a lake view, but April was still a little chilly after the sun went down, so the vaulted cellar-style interior was a better alternative. Meanwhile, the fine-dining restaurant, La Terrazza Gualtiero Marchesi (in the same space as breakfast) is the only one in the world exclusively authorized to serve original recipes by chef Gualtiero Marchesi, who’s considered the founding father of modern Italian cuisine.

And if you’re looking for a digestivo or a night cap, the bartenders at T Bar on the lobby level can mix up a Negroni (or whatever you want really) to be sipped under the soaring ceilings of the colorful Sala Musica. Bellissimo!

Amenities & Activities

The hotel’s grounds trace up the steep slope behind the main building, where various loggias, the tennis courts, and several intimate seating areas are connected by winding pathways that snake through the greenery. At the highest point is a statue of a wooden bear, which I hiked up to while waiting for my suite to be ready wearing entirely the wrong outfit and carrying a heavy bag. I would strongly advise against this. The steep incline and rough gravel was tough going (I hid the bag halfway up) but the view was worth it, so do it, but only when you’re prepared.

GHT’s boutique, Sense of Lake, is located in a charming outbuilding and sells all sorts of chic merchandise: from branded illustrated duffel bags and silk scarves, to resort wear by luxe fashion retailers, including some exclusive collabs (I’m not allowed to share this season’s yet). Though I didn’t get a chance to enjoy the spa or use the gym, I did poke my head in the newly renovated indoor infinity pool, which is one level down from the lobby and would’ve be the perfect spot to come if the weather had been bad (thankfully it wasn’t).

The activity highlight of my trip was a private boat tour aboard the Ruy, one of two vintage speedboats owned by GHT for guest charters. The beauty of Lake Como is truly best experienced from the water; cruising over the gentle waves past the lavish villas and jaw-dropping landscapes is enough to make anyone feel like a movie star. Tours can be customized depending on the passengers’ interests—I’ve outlined the two stops we made below.

Villa del Balbianello

Our very fabulous boat tour stopped at one of the area’s most impressive villas—both for its location at the end of a peninsula, and for its stepped layout of connected loggias and rooms surrounded by perfectly manicured landscaping. Villa del Balbianello is recognizable from Star Wars: Episode II - Attack of the Clones, as the Naboo lakeside retreat where Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker escape to and marry, as well as the hospital where James Bond recovers in Casino Royale.

Arrival by boat to the tiny, steep, and slippery dock is slightly precarious, so take care embarking and disembarking. There was also a holding pattern for boats attempting to drop off and pick up passengers as we were trying to leave, though our captain shrewdly snuck us on before larger parties. It’s also possible to access the villa by road, if boats aren’t your thing.

We didn’t have time to tour the interiors, but peering through the windows revealed a wildly eclectic array of pieces collected by its last owner, explorer Guido Monzino, during his global expeditions. We did explore the gardens, but the steep, narrow, and winding pathways were packed with visitors taking selfies or group pictures where there wasn’t really space to do so. We weaved around them as best we could. I later discovered that private tours can be booked in the evenings, so if I were to return, or recommend to others, this would be the move. Alternatively, get invited to an event or a wedding here!

La Velarca

An additional stop on my boat tour was… another boat! Not just any boat, this stunner of a vessel is a house boat designed in 1959 by Studio BBPR for the Norsa family as a summer retreat. Named La Velarca, the boat was gifted by the family to the Italian heritage association, FAI-Fondo per l'Ambiente Italiano, and painstakingly restored over the past 22 years. It’s now permanently moored in Ossuccio, a few miles south-west of Tremezzo, and can be boarded and explored for a small fee.

For design nerds like myself, this vessel was particularly impressive. The lines and finishes of the wood, the strategic layout of the beds (there’s so many!) on the lower level, the amazing 1960s kitchen, and the blue and orange upholstery details—everything was executed immaculately. After spotting a strategically placed bottle of Campari in the stairwell, I could imagine the family picnicking and drinking their Negronis as they sailed up and down the lake, anchoring to swim or explore the many villages. What a dreamy way to spend a summer.

Bellagio

Everyone told me to visit Bellagio while on this trip (well, like five people did). Plus, I’d been gazing at the village across the water from my terrace for two days, so I felt obliged to go for the afternoon. A 20-minute ferry ride from Tremezzo—the dock was less than a five-minute walk from the hotel, outside Villa Carlota—the town sits on the peninsula where Lake Como meets Lake Lecco, so it boasts wraparound water vistas.

It’s a charming little place, with steep cobbled streets, compact restaurant terraces, and small boutiques mostly selling shoes and silk. I’d been hunting for a scarf or pocket square for an upcoming wedding, so I was thrilled to spot one in the exact colors I was looking for in one of the windows, and snatched it straight off the display. Bellagio’s problem, however, was that it was packed with tourists to the point of being unpleasant—I’ve only ever experienced this volume of slow-moving, unaware-of-everyone-else people before in Santorini, where I hid in my hotel until the rush died down in the evenings for the most part.

Also, while arriving on the ferry was a breeze, leaving was not. The throngs of tourists were all confused about where to purchase tickets, which lines to join for the right boat, and when said boats were arriving, and none of them were being polite about it. The whole time I kept thinking to myself: “It’s only April, imagine what this would be like in the summer!” So in all I was there for less than two hours, and was very relieved when I disembarked back in Tremezzo, away from the crowds. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fully supportive of everyone having their own opportunity to experience a taste of La Dolce Vita. But, for me at least, this lifestyle can only really be enjoyed with a generous helping of personal space.

Thank Yous

The biggest and most heartfelt thank you to Delia Facchini, who took so much time to be my tour guide, treated me to a wonderful dinner, and made sure the champagne was flowing during our boat ride. And thank you to our captain, Carlo, for transporting us across the water not only safely, but in style. Thank you to Katie Sutherland at Perowne International for first connecting me with Delia over a spritz in the West Village, and to Danielle Murdock at J/PR for the invitation to GHT, and for organizing my itinerary and transfers. Thanks to Horacio Silva for being an unexpected but very welcome cocktail companion (and thanks also to David Graver for that intro!). And grazie mille to the wonderful lady who serviced my room, who told me that I was a very clean and tidy guest, and that I can come back any time. I will! D x

Introduction

If you haven’t already seen the ever-so-slightly terrifying video of a plane landing at the airport in St Barths, take a second to do so now. Only able to handle light aircraft, the small landing strip is cut into a steep hillside, meaning that the planes have to skirt dangerously close to a road that runs above, then drop sharply down to meet the runway and still have enough space to brake in time. As passengers on one of those planes in early March, my husband Jonathan and I can confirm that the experience is not dissimilar to those rollercoaster rides when your stomach ends up in your throat momentarily. Quite a rush. Not recommended for the aerophobic.

We were arriving into the famed French-Caribbean island for our “mini-moon”—a honeymoon for those of us strapped for time and/or funds. The three-night getaway followed our November wedding in Miami (where Jonathan’s family are located) and pre-Christmas marriage celebration in the UK (where mine are based), both of which were wonderfully beautiful and so much fun, but also quite stressful and more expensive than we had anticipated. So when invited to check out Eden Rock, another entrant on the World’s 50 Best Hotels list for 2025 (I’m really making my way through these), we decided to treat this as the celebratory down-time that most couples enjoy after their weddings (which, we discovered, are a very necessary break).

St Barths

Part of the Leeward Islands chain in the northern Caribbean, this small island has a big reputation as a bougie party paradise, where the ultra-rich anchor their mega yachts, and order bottle service at the exorbitantly priced restaurants and clubs. It’s effectively St Tropez in the Caribbean, and has the same distinctly French flavor but with year-round fair weather. Technically Saint Barthélemy, the island was first inhabited by the Arawak and Carib Indians, then stumbled upon in 1493 by Christopher Columbus, who named it after his brother, Bartolomeo. Despite French colonization attempts in the 17th century, both the Swedish and British controlled St Barths for periods before the island returned to France in 1878. It officially became a French Department in 1946.

From New York, this little slice of heaven is not actually that easy to get to. Due to the aforementioned airport size, international flights have to arrive into nearby St Martin (or Sint Maarten, since it’s half Dutch), then travelers have to switch to a light aircraft for an extra 20-minute hop over to St Barths. There are a few direct flights to St Martin from NYC, but they are not cheap, so we also transferred via DC on the way back—saving us a pretty penny, but resulting in an entire day’s worth of travel.

The hilly island is surrounded by bays and inlets with white-sand beaches stretched between rocky outcrops—some of which are easily accessible, while others require a hike to reach. Gorgeous and capacious villas step up the lushly forested slopes, connected to the coastal hamlets by precipitously steep, narrow roads. It’s every inch the vision of paradise, if paradise for you involves rubbing shoulders with some of the world’s wealthiest people and gawking at their lavish lifestyles. Visitors are a mix of old and new money (and it’s easy to tell the difference), while most of the resort staff are French émigrés or locals.

Had we been staying longer, we would’ve embarked upon one of the remote beach hikes. But the modus operandi for this short trip was to relax, so we barely ventured away from Eden Rock except to explore the immediate vicinity, and to spend an evening in the island’s main town.

Gustavia

The island’s capital—named after King Gustav III of Sweden—is situated on its southwest coast, surrounding a marina filled with some of the largest sailing boats I’ve ever seen. Red-roofed buildings step up the hillsides on either side of the water, framing the collection of yachts lined up side by side. We were visiting right before the St Barths Bucket Regatta, a three-day sailing race, so the harbor was even busier than usual. So full, in fact, that some late arrivals had to drop anchor in adjacent bays (can you imagine?! How embarrassing!).

We took a 20-minute taxi from St Jean, where we were staying, over to Gustavia one evening and made it just in time for sunset. We strolled along Rue de la Republique, flanked by all of the luxury fashion stores, and stopped for a cocktail at Arawak Café next to Hermès. Our dinner reservation wasn’t until 8.30pm, so inevitably (because it’s us) we embarked on a bar crawl around the town. This yo-yo’d from ridiculously overpriced espresso martinis at a speakeasy called Le Clandestin, where it was just us, a group of finance bros, and a live singer, to relatively cheap spritzes at a low-key Mexican spot, Cantina.

Even more cocktails were enjoyed during dinner at Bonito, a French-Latin restaurant with a gorgeous view over the harbor. The food was good, not great—definitely not worth the bill total (though, we asked ourselves repeatedly, is anything here?). Embarrassingly, we almost forgot to pay the check (I’m so used to the American way of doing it now, and we’d had several drinks by this point) but the server luckily caught us as we were getting in the cab. We shared a taxi home with another couple, who also happened to be from Miami and staying in the St Jean area, so that at least helped a little with one expense.

Eden Rock

Positioned on a promontory that juts out into St Jean bay, Eden Rock is easily one of the most iconic spots in St Barths. Aviator Rémy de Haenen was the first to build on the rocky outcrop in the 1940s, and by 1953, the structure was transformed into an exclusive bed-and-breakfast. Continuous expansion over the years saw the addition of several suites in an around the “rock,” and the shift of its restaurant from a lofty position to a new spot beside the beach. More guest accommodation was built along the stretch of sand to the west, bringing the total number of rooms, suites, and villas to a pleasantly manageable 37.

The hotel currently sits under the Oetker Collection management umbrella, but remains privately owned. It’s a hot ticket, and books up incredibly quickly—particularly during the winter months—operating at full capacity for the majority of the year.

The prime beachfront it occupies is pristine, and the water is the shade of turquoise that’s almost blindingly bright. A cleverly branded pontoon is positioned a couple of hundred feet offshore, which was a popular spot for guests to swim out to and pose upon. It was fun to watch the small planes take off from the nearby airport (a five-minute drive away) over the water. I made many attempts to get the perfect shot of a plane directly over the pontoon, but I was never quick enough with my camera, and this became a running joke between Jonathan and I. I ended up Photoshopping it (scroll down to see).

For the two of us, this turned out to be an ideal mini-moon destination. There was enough to do if we wanted to, but also no real need to leave the beach at all. The weather was deliciously warm and we were able to catch enough rays to look and feel like we’d been away, which we were both desperately craving by March after a frigid, grey NYC winter. The resort was stylish and elevated, so we could dress up for dinner, but not so stuffy that we felt awkward walking around in our swimwear during the day.

Architecture & Design

With its distinctive red corrugated-metal roofs, exposed coral stone walls, wooden shutters, and stainless steel accents, the Eden Rock buildings straddle traditional Caribbean architecture and a more contemporary style. The oldest section of the property, perched up on the rock, is a St Barths landmark thanks to its distinguishing silhouette. The semi-circular portion contains suites with panoramic vistas, while the pitched-roof pinnacle that once housed the restaurant is now a huge villa with views on all sides.

Owner Jane Matthews, who runs the Eden Rock Design Group, worked with Martin Brudnizki Design Studio in London and Architectonik in St Barths to fully overhaul the interiors in 2020. Across the property, nautical details like porthole windows, jetty-style boardwalks, and lights that resemble scaled-down lighthouse beacons all add character without becoming kitsch. The landscape is impeccably manicured, and the winding pathways through the grass to the rooms are illuminated at night by trails of short lamp posts.

Like many of today’s luxury hotels (see Palazzo Avino), and many high-end fashion houses before them, Eden Rock has cleverly chosen a signature color and fully embraced it across architecture, interiors, and branding. The vivid shade of crimson appears everywhere: from balustrades and gates, to lounger covers, room key chains, and even the plastic cups for beachside cocktails. This is so smart as a marketing strategy, as it allows the property to be immediately identifiable from practically anywhere.

Guest Rooms

The boutique hotel is largely divided into the accommodation on the “rock” side, and the guest rooms and villas along the beachfront. We stayed in a Plantation Room on the ground floor that opened to a lawn behind the beach bar, with the sand and sea just in view beyond. Each of the buildings in this collection has an upper floor housing slightly pricier Beach Rooms, which have a better ocean view. Ours was spacious, warmly lit, and decorated in a contemporary beachy style created by wood paneling and French burgundy stone floors. We benefitted from a covered front terrace with armchairs, where we drank our complimentary Krug, plus a pair of loungers further out on the grass for reclining. The bathroom was particularly roomy, with a double vanity, rain shower, and a separate toilet (which, as we’ve discussed before, is important!).

I was offered a quick glimpse at a couple of the rock-side suites too, which were imbued with a more Colonial look and feel by way of whitewashed wood interiors. All of these are named individually, and come in different shapes, sizes, and styles—so potential occupants can chose depending on their preferences. One of those I toured was charmingly compact, but had a large terrace and a bathroom cut into the exposed rock, while another was triangular in shape, and boasted a giant bathroom with a sunken tub and its own fitness area.

For frequently returning guests, special red plaques engraved with their names are hung beside the entrance to their suites to signal their occupancy—a touch that I’ve no doubt is highly prized by ER fans. The attentive senior staff are also on a first-name basis with repeat-stay couples and families, and their rooms are made-up based on their pre-determined needs.

Eating & Drinking

The principal dining area at Eden Rock is Sand Bar, the open-air beachside restaurant where breakfast, lunch, and dinner are served daily. With a view of the bright blue waters, it’s hard not to be impressed by the airy split-level space—although the rattan monkeys hanging from the ceiling had a slightly threatening aura.

Upon our arrival around lunchtime, we were offered a complimentary welcome cocktail (a must for any hotel IMO). When I ordered my club sandwich without egg, the server asked if I’d like the chef to remember this request for the duration of my stay. I did, thank you, although I felt bad that I didn’t end up ordering it again—despite it being delicious. At breakfast, the buffet spread offered adequate choice, but the açai bowl on the a-la-carte menu that was sensationally laced with peanut butter was the highlight. Dinner at Sand Bar was a multi-course affair, involving fresh seafood prepared in typical French style with a lot of butter. We were so full afterwards that had to walk off the meal along the beach for almost an hour.

Club Remy is the indoor, slightly more formal portion of the establishment, and is set up for pre- or post-dinner cocktails within a cozy boudoir-esque space featuring, you guessed it, red decor and lighting. Here, the espresso martinis are served in glassware that resembles a small teacup atop a long stem—much to Jonathan’s delight.

We also ordered food to the beach a couple of times, from a more limited menu that included pizza (yummy!), burgers, fries, and other typical snack fare. The beach cocktails from the small bar behind the loungers were also tasty, but we mainly stuck to sipping Coronas while we basked in the sun.

For those wishing to venture out on foot, St Jean has a few options depending on interests and budget. Next door to Eden Rock is the infamous Nikki Beach, where DJs spin all day and night, and pricey bottles are delivered for as long as you request them. Not our vibe for this trip, or ever TBH. Further along the beach to the east, a more laid-back, Tulum-esque spot can be found at the Gyp Sea hotel’s beach bar and restaurant. In the town “center,” if it can be called that, there’s a chill and (relatively) cheap bar called Le Piment where we found the Gyp Sea staff after their shifts (always a good sign), and a nightclub named Modjo that drew a very mixed crowd late at night, but was a fun time.

Amenities

During our stay, we were each treated to an hour-long Bliss massage at the spa, located at the top of Eden Rock, which was much needed and appreciated. We missed the morning yoga sessions, which are hosted on a raised deck overlooking the sea, and did not use the small but chicly designed gym tucked into the rock. (Anyone who uses the gym on their mini-moon, honeymoon, or any kind of “moon” should go to jail. There are much better ways to work up a sweat!)

While there’s no communal swimming pool on the main site (some of the larger suites and villas have their own), the sea is literally right there, and it’s warm and clear enough that it may as well be a pool. Loungers are lined up along the sand, and we were guided to the same pair each time we tipped up. There appeared to be plenty of equipment for water sports, from inflatables to paddleboards and even Seabobs. We watched a child struggle with a paddleboard for quite some time before someone came and took it off her—perhaps a little more attention could’ve been paid there?

Villas

One morning, while Jonathan was sleeping in, I was given a tour around three of the many villas around the island that Eden Rock manages as part of its portfolio, for guests who want a more residential experience, more privacy, or both. This excursion with head of sales and marketing, Mareike Hermann, provided a chance to see a little more of St Barths, as we drove between three properties spread in different locations.

The first stop was Palm Beach Villa in Lorient, the next bay along from St Jean. This contemporary beachside residence has a minimalist sensibility and a symmetrical layout, organized around its outdoor spaces including a raised infinity pool that stretches towards the sea, and several covered outdoor dining and lounge areas. The interiors feature dark woods and green tones, leaning into the tropical setting without going overboard, which I always appreciate.

Villa deux, named Maison Saline, was tucked away from civilization close to the town and beach of the same name, towards the south coast. Reached via a rather bumpy track, the brand-new residence comprises a series of rooms in separate pavilions that all open to the central pool and terrace. The aesthetic here is more bohemian and “worldly,” with plenty of rattan furniture, patterned pastel-hued upholstery, scalloped shapes, and quirky details like chairs with elephant-shaped armrests. The feminine touches are evident, and this would make a very cute spot for a bachelorette party. Cool details include mechanized panels that retract to fully open the bathrooms to the outdoors.

Last but certainly not least, the insanely lavish Villa Embrace overlooks Gustavia from its lofty perch, spanning five stories that cling to the rock face and project towards the sea, via a series of stepped terraces with multiple pools. This home is filled with a remarkable collection of contemporary art—including several Warhols—and its many bedrooms are each accented with a different primary color to contrast the minimalist yet simultaneously flashy decor. A glass elevator connects the levels, and the view improves as one ascends all the way up to the primary suite at the very top.

If I had to choose from the three, I would probably stay at Palm Beach Villa for its contemporary aesthetic, beach proximity, and overall relaxed vibe that felt best suited to the location.

Swag

We weren’t quite prepared (and neither was our luggage) for the amount of gifts bestowed upon us by Eden Rock. Almost every time we left our room, we’d return to find something new waiting for us. Upon arrival, branded weekend bags, refillable water bottles, pencil cases embroidered with our initials were waiting for us on the bed, while red and white flip-flops were ready for us on the floor. Terry-cloth washbags with toiletries and nail kits were provided in the bathroom, while a bottle of Krug champagne, madeleines, fruit and other snacks were ready for us to tuck into.

Later, we arrived back to find a trail of petals to the bed, two pairs of “Mr & Mr” embroidered slippers placed neatly on cushioned footpads, and a framed photograph of ourselves from our wedding that presumably they’d printed from Instagram. (This appears to be a new trend: I also found a picture of myself in my room at the Rosewood São Paulo.) Our absolute favorite gifts were the custom Diptyque candle, “Ylang,” and matching pillow spray, which fragranced the room and now transport our senses right back to St Barths whenever we smell them. If there are any extra of these laying around, please let us know…

Unfortunately, the baseball caps we were given before departure were too similar to the MAGA designs (the one downside to the red branding), and the only thing we didn’t nab that we had our eyes on was the gorgeous Assouline book created for Eden Rock’s 70th anniversary. Given everything we received, I’m more than happy to purchase this tome myself (especially since it was written by my new fave, Vassi Chamberlain, who I met whilst in St Lucia!).

Also! A month after we’d been home, we received a postcard from the hotel with a hand-written note saying they missed us and hoped we’d be back soon. Now that is attention to detail. These small gestures all added up, and contributed to an incredible overall experience and a mini-moon that we will never forget. A beautiful setting and great service are expected when splurging on a high-end hotel. But a truly personalized experience that leaves guests feeling spoiled, appreciated, and bowled-over by the level of commitment to delivering much more than you ever thought you wanted is the mark of real luxury today.

Thank Yous

Extra-special gratitude to everyone involved in making this trip happen, because it was so personal and unlocked new core memories for the two of us. Firstly, the Perowne International team—Nicole Vassallo, Katie Sutherland, Morgan Connaghan—thank you a) for the invitation, and b) for bringing it to fruition despite multiple date changes, availability issues, and a long back-and-forth. Merci beaucoup to Eden Rock general manager Fabrice Moizan for taking such great care of us, and along with Camille Francoual, being such great dinner company. Mareike Hermann, thank you for showing me the resort and the island, lending your knowledge, and answering all of my annoying questions. And of course, thank you endlessly to my husband, Jonathan Marotto, for being the best travel companion. I can’t wait to share so many more adventures with you. D x

Introduction

Let’s be real: no one wants to be in New York City in January. By this point every year, the novelty of “festive winter” as I call it has worn off, sun-deprived skin starts to appear translucent under the glare of the subway lighting, and everyone is pining for the days to get longer and the warmth to return again. For a quick vitamin D fix and melanin top-up to make it through to spring, the Caribbean islands tempt many to their tropical climes and crystal clear waters. Trust me, the four-hour(ish) direct flight is well worth it to feel completely removed from the depression of “grey winter.”

For all my global adventures, I really haven’t explored much of the Caribbean. It was always time and cost prohibitive from the UK, plus Europe was literally right there, so it seemed excessive to go all that way for a slice of sun. We did go on a family vacation to Cuba in 2016, before Americans were allowed into the country, but that’s a very different vibe from the rest of the region, for obvious reasons. I also visited Puerto Rico with friends in 2019, which was beautiful and whet my appetite for Caribbean island life. My remaining associations with the region—beyond palm trees, white sands, and turquoise waters—admittedly comes from the swashbuckling Disney movies. But I’m on a mission to change that!

St Lucia

Of the many Caribbean jewels to discover, St Lucia was highest on my list. The small teardrop-shaped land mass is part of the volcanic chain of Windward Islands that separates the Atlantic Ocean and the Caribbean Sea, and sits between Martinique to the north, and St Vincent and the Grenadines to the south. Blanketed in dense rainforest, the island is famous for cocoa production and enjoys a tropical climate year-round—perfect for mid-winter escapes. I was lured in by pictures of the dramatic topography, which I’ve always favored over flat sandy beaches. And this was also the last destination that a close childhood friend of mine visited with his family before losing his battle with cancer, so it holds special significance.

The island’s history is similar to many of its neighbors. First inhabited by Arawak and then Carib peoples, before the Europeans arrived in the 17th century, St Lucia changed hands between the French and British multiple times before the latter gained steady control in 1814. Yes, there were pirates involved along the way too. It wasn’t until 1979 that the island achieved full independence from Britain—one of the last Caribbean countries to do so—and today it’s a diverse and culturally rich nation with a tourism-driven economy.

St Lucia’s Arawak name, Hewanorra, means “island of the iguanas,” and is also the moniker given to the small, no-frills airport located at its southern tip. The main roads run from here up and down the coasts, through small hamlets of colorful houses dotted across the mountainous terrain. We took the western route up to the port town of Soufrière, which means sulphur in French and refers to the area’s pungent active volcanic emissions—although don’t panic, the last major eruption was in 1766. Although only 18 miles from the airport, this windy stretch of sometimes poorly maintained tarmac takes a good 40 minutes to travel along, but it’s a scenic ride if you don’t get car sick.

On the southwestern coast, the twin volcanic “plugs” known as the Pitons are among the most iconic natural formations in the Caribbean. There’s even a local beer named after them, which is similar to Corona and very refreshing (I enjoyed several during my stay). The smaller, steeper Petit Piton is the northerly peak, while the Gros Piton to the south is a popular hiking destination. (Had I been staying longer, I would’ve embarked on the trek to the top.) And between these two imposing, majestic mountains, nestled against their precipitous slopes, is the resort I came to scope out.

Sugar Beach

The Sugar Beach resort owes a lot to its fortuitous location. Operated by the Viceroy Group, the expansive property extends from the white-sand beach and up the valley and surrounding slopes into dense vegetation. This was once the site of a sugar mill, hence its current name, and the ruins of the original stone building still sit amongst the tropical plants and newer constructions. A total of 130 cottages and villas are scattered across the vast 100-acre estate, which requires a fleet of golf carts and vans to maintain and transport guests around.

The primary attraction is of course the beach, where rows of sun loungers are arranged under thatched canopies to face the brilliant aqua waters. For those who aren’t so keen on the sand and salt, a large pool area is positioned directly behind, with bar and restaurant areas filling the spaces in between. A series of grassy lawns step gradually up the valley to a pond in front of the central, main building, in which the lobby, hotel store, and more dining and drinking spaces can be found (more info below). Several other structures house the fitness center, spa, and other amenities (also below), while the majority of the accommodation is tucked into the trees up the hillside.

Due to the scale and the terrain, the best way to get around is via the shuttles that whizz up and down the hills to take guests from A to B, sometimes via C and D depending on how busy they are. I always prefer to walk, so a couple of times I attempted strolling to breakfast, but it was difficult to navigate the winding roads, and nothing connected geographically as I thought it should. The trek down to the beach wasn’t too bad, but the climb back up really took it out of me in the humidity.

Architecture & Design

The majority of the buildings across Sugar Beach, including the communal facilities and most of the villas, are designed in the Colonial Caribbean style: white-washed clapboard exteriors, large verandas, pitched tiled roofs, decorative balustrades and fascia trims etc. The furniture also follows this aesthetic, so there’s a bounty of rattan chairs, and most interior spaces have vaulted ceilings—which are typical of the Caribbean because they allow air to circulate better. Some of the areas have a more modern look, like the outdoor swimming pool, where a black and white theme carries across the furniture to contrast the turquoise tiles under the water.

Sugar Beach’s owners use the property to display their impressive contemporary sculpture collection, which includes large-scale works by the likes of Daniel Arsham, Anish Kapoor, and more that can be spied around the grounds. Every now and then I’d stumble upon a giant head partially buried in the ground (Arsham) or a vertical stack of reflective balls (Kapoor), which didn’t really fit the rest of the vibe, but I guess if you need to store these pricey artworks somewhere, a private hotel property makes the most sense for insurance purposes.

Guest Rooms

Sugar Beach offers several accommodation categories, including guest rooms in the Sugar Mill building, a variety of cottages and villas that vary in scale and features, a collection of beachfront bungalows, and then a host of residences that range from one to four bedrooms. Since many of these are away from the main resort facilities, a butler service is on-hand to provide assistance, organize transport, book experiences etc. through an app that was a little confusing to use, but I had no real issues with.

Again, due to the scale of the property, the villas are grouped into numbered zones that help the shuttle drivers to coordinate where to drop-off their passengers. For the most part, the higher the number, the higher up the hill you are. My villa for the three-night stay was in the “sixes,” so about halfway, which was perfect for ocean-Piton view combo without being too far from everything.

I stayed in a Superior Luxury Villa, which normally starts at around $1,500 per night in peak season. It featured a large bedroom, a separate living room, a bathroom, and a terrace with a covered seating area and a private plunge pool that faced the Petit Piton. The setting was obviously stunning, and the villa was super spacious, but I have the say that the decor could’ve used a little TLC. Particularly in the bathroom, the flooring was scuffed, the fixtures were outdated, and the shower light flickered. Time for a refresh, maybe?

I did love the four-poster bed, which was super comfortable, and waking up to the view of the ocean, palm trees, and mountain through the patio doors is how I’d prefer to spend every morning if I could. The outdoor space was also very private and not overlooked, so I could sunbathe during the day and dip in the pool late at night without the concern of prying eyes. Ideal for honeymooners!

Spice of Life

The primary reason for this trip was to attend the opening of the newest addition to Sugar Beach’s Beachfront Collection, which I covered for Galerie magazine. This vast 35,000-square-foot residence, designed by Botelho Wood Architects, is named Spice of Life after a book written by Sir Harold Mitchell (the grandfather of Sugar Beach’s British-Bermudan owners, the Greens). The two-story oceanfront building can comfortably host up to 18 guests across its nine bedrooms, and sits in stark contrast to the other structures across the resort. Its contemporary architecture comprises natural materials like exposed stone and wood, while the interiors are intentionally neutral and feature custom furniture throughout. No Colonial design hints here.

Indoor-outdoor living is the name of the game here, with most of the rooms opening onto large terraces, and the main living area extending to a stepped deck and an infinity pool with the sea and the Petit Piton in full view. There are pavilions for BBQ lunches and a large table for al-fresco dining, plus private access to the sands below. The guest rooms are arranged in wings either side of the communal spaces, and each has a slightly different layout, with options for king or twin beds depending on the occupants. A couple of rooms also have outdoor showers in stone enclosures, where private spa treatments can take place.

Like the resort overall, Spice of Life is filled with a staggering contemporary art collection—think Yayoi Kusama, Damien Hirst, KAWS, and many more. None of these I would’ve personally curated for the villa’s serene spaces; pieces by local artists would’ve been more fitting (and supportive) than displaying so much commercial work IMO. But hey, lots of people in the target tax bracket love it. The pièce-de-résistance is an oval James Turrell light sculpture installed at the head of the dining table in the main space, which is even visible from boats way out across the bay. Its intense, shifting hues are certainly a conversation starter over dinner.

Spice of Life guests of course have access to all of the resort’s facilities, as well as private chefs and butlers to take care of every detail of their stay. Each booking also includes a private fireworks show from the dock below the residence, and since we were attending the official opening, we were treated to the inaugural display. Bluntly, this is luxury way beyond what the vast majority of us will ever get to experience: the price for a week’s stay is the equivalent of a modest house. But it was fun to cosplay as a billionaire’s wife in the residence during our time at Sugar Beach, waving my champagne around while I floated on the pool.

Dining & Drinking

Sugar Beach has no less than eight restaurants on the property, each offering a different cuisine. The daily breakfast buffet is served at The Terrace, overlooking the property towards the sea from the main building. The selection of fresh fruits and Creole breads, along with a strong coffee, was all I needed to start my day, but there were plenty of hot options and a crepe station for those in need of more sustenance.

Our group also ate dinner at Jalousie Grill, the casual beachside spot that may have been better at lunch for the view, though the tandoori masala kingfish I had was delicious. Most nights we enjoyed drinks in the adjacent bar, which stays open late and occasionally has a DJ spinning a very wide range of tunes, or a live band, depending on your luck. The rest of our meals were privately catered at Spice of Life by the chefs from the various other eateries. These include Saltwood, the fine-dining concept situated above The Terrace and next to the Saltwood Bar, where pre-dinner canapés and aperitifs are served.

Then there’s dinner-only Cane Bar, which has a tapas-style Southeast Asian menu, and Bonté, which is back down at the beach and offers Caribbean food throughout the day. Those relaxing on the beach can also order bites and drinks to their loungers—the fish tacos were a hit—and of course there’s room service. Call me simple, but the best food we had was from Jetty Burger, where smashed burgers are made fresh on the hotel’s South Pier and can be enjoyed on bar stools overlooking the water. Paired with a Piton beer or two, this was a perfect lunch.

Due to the nature of the trip, we didn’t venture outside of the resort to eat. However, I asked a couple of the chefs for their recommendations just in case, and they suggested Martha's Tables, The Mango Tree, and Country Breeze as solid local options to try nearby.

Amenities & Activities

Sugar Beach is very much a resort, and there’s plenty to do over several days without having to leave the property. The fitness center is very well equipped, and had everything I needed for my daily workouts—although I only went once. Walking around the property burned more than enough calories, however, so I let myself off the hook.

I was treated to a full-body massage at the Rainforest Spa, which is accessed via a snaking thatched tunnel that is atmospherically lit with candles, creating a vibe that feels more like Southeast Asia than the Caribbean. The changing areas and treatment rooms occupy a cluster of tree houses connected by wooden walkways over a cascading stream, providing a beautifully soothing soundtrack to my 60 minutes of relaxation. The overall experience was very immersive, and I felt very rejuvenated afterwards.

Another part of our itinerary involved a chocolate workshop at the Cocoa Mill, a new experience offered to Sugar Beach guests this year. In a small building close to the historic mill, a small group can don their chef hats and aprons, then decorate, pipe, and flavor bars of chocolate in a set of three molds. Admittedly, I was hesitant about spending an hour inside when I could’ve been on the beach, but it was actually a very enjoyable class that facilitated a fun creative moment, and also resulted in ready-made gifts to take home.

Further up the mountain, a newly renovated Racquet Club offers tennis, padel, and pickleball courts. My hand-eye coordination is abysmal, so I didn’t bother venturing up there, but others told me that the facilities looked very swish and the view was particularly amazing from this higher vantage point. The Caribbean waters are so clear that snorkeling was highly recommended, as was the hiking I mentioned earlier, but sadly there wasn’t time to try either.

Catamaran Capers

One of the most memorable activities of our trip was a sunset catamaran cruise, which departed from Sugar Beach’s water-sports dock and sailed us around the bay, before heading out past the Petit Piton and north up the coast. It rained on and off for the duration, but we sipped our champagne and shotted our rum undeterred—literally not letting the weather dampen our spirits—and dived in and out of cover as needed. The views from the water were even more striking than on land, and we spotted several cruise ships that looked straight out of Pirates of the Caribbean, so my inner child was giddy.

Manned by a cheerful crew, our catamaran took us past a few other luxury resorts, including uber-chic Jade Mountain, and several secluded beaches, before dipping back into Soufrière Bay. By the time we headed back past the Pitons, the rain had mostly cleared and the sky gave us a dramatic finale as we relaxed on the hammock nets at the front of the vessel. I’d highly recommend this experience to anyone visiting Sugar Beach or another hotel on the island. There’s always something so special about sailing, particularly when the landscape is so stunning, and the regional association with pirating is so strong. It topped-off an amazing trip that made me completely forget it was January, until I landed back into the grey reality of JFK airport. Quick! Book the next one!

Thank Yous

To the Purple PR team: Ally Berkowitz, you’re always a such riot; Jenna Miller, I loved getting to know you better; Katherine Bening, those synchronized swimming lessons were top notch. To my trip mates: thank you Ellen Eberhardt, Adrian Madlener, Susmita Baral, Jonathan Soroff, and Rachel King (who was also in São Paulo with me!). Special thanks to Catie Case and Nate Storey for bringing the goodies, and Vassi Chamberlain for telling me I reminded her of Jonathan Bailey—biggest compliment ever! Bradley Cochrane, thanks for tagging along with our group and being my catamaran net buddy. And to the Sugar Beach team: James Wyndham, Sophie Paterson, and all of the staff, thank you for being so kind, friendly, and fun to be around. I hope you’ll have me back again soon! D x

Introduction

The first time I set eyes on Carmel-by-the-Sea, I didn’t really. The November fog that had settled over the Central Californian bayside enclave was so dense that it obscured everything further than 50 feet ahead. I was on a roadtrip down the Pacific Coast Highway (Route 1) from San Francisco to Los Angeles with my bestie Brian—mostly pretending we were in the opening sequence of Big Little Lies—and we’d greatly underestimated the amount of time needed to complete the drive and stop everywhere we had planned. Hint: two days is not enough. So due to the lack of visibility and tight schedule, we walked around for about 20 minutes, realized we couldn’t even make out the ocean from the beach, and promptly got back in the car and continued on our way. Perhaps I’ll break down that trip in full another time, it was an interesting one!

Anyway, when I was invited to the opening festivities for a newly renovated historic hotel in Carmel, I quickly RSVP’d with renewed hope that I’d actually get to see the place this time. On a late January weekend last year, I departed New York early morning and encountered a very tight flight connection in Denver, which involved me sprinting from end to end of the world’s second-largest airport in order to reach my gate. I made it despite the odds, and the rest of the journey was thankfully uneventful. I arrived into Monterey Airport, a tiny little regional hub, which after the Denver ordeal was a very welcome reprieve. Within 10 minutes of touching down I was in my transfer vehicle, and 15 minutes later had arrived at my destination.

Carmel-by-the-Sea

Located on the Monterey Peninsula, Carmel-by-the-Sea has been renowned for its bohemian spirit since the early 20th century. Artists, writers, poets, and renegades were drawn here from San Fran by low land values following the 1906 earthquake, and over the years, the city opened several museums, art galleries and studios that have helped preserve its creative and quirky spirit. It’s a uniquely charming place, which frankly doesn’t get enough airtime, and should be high on everyone’s list for a cute West Coast long weekend.

Carmel’s village-like center is organized around Ocean Avenue, an east-west commercial thoroughfare of mostly cafes and boutiques that descends towards the beach. This gradual and persistent slope offers many of the small city’s properties a view of the water, but makes exploring on foot slightly arduous if you’re not at peak fitness (which many of the Lululemon-bedecked residents appeared to be).

Much of Carmel’s eccentricity comes from its architecture. If you typed “English cottage on acid” into an A.I. visual generator, and built all of the various iterations returned to you in one place, this is what I envision would be the result. The wavy shingle-clad roofs, grotesquely oversized chimneys, and rickety fences all evoke something out of Grimms’ Fairy Tales that you’d encounter in a dark forest. These warped storybook residences stand in almost ridiculous contrast to the rather soulless, contemporary glass boxes on the plots in-between them along the aptly named Scenic Road that follows the cliff edge.

One of the only houses on the ocean side of this street is Frank Lloyd Wright’s 1952 Clinton Walker House, which juts out towards the breaking waves like a ship’s prow. As the famed architect’s only coastal building, its low-slung patinated copper roof, tiered red-framed glazing around the hexagonal living room, and sandstone masonry bear all the hallmarks of a classic Wright in the way they respond to the context. It reportedly sold for $22 million in 2023.

We didn’t get a huge amount of time to explore the city, though my friend and fellow travel writer, Paul Jebara, and I took a quick walking tour to enjoy the unseasonably warm and sunny weather for January, and to go in search of a lunch spot. Our stroll along the coast and then inland through the mansion-lined streets took us to the highly recommended Mission Ranch Restaurant, a property overlooking a verdant sheep-tended pasture that rolls down to the Carmel River and estuary beyond. The large terrace facing this vista and the American-influenced menu looked perfect, but for some reason, it was closed. Bummer.

So we looped back into the town center and stopped at our second option, Stationæry, which was bustling but we managed to sit outside in one of the small courtyards that are typical of Carmel. The brunch menu was more than acceptable, and my avocado toast and spritz hit the spot. We also checked out the wide sandy beach, which sweeps around the bay and is flanked by plant-covered dunes, Lone Cypress trees, and bunches of Aloe Cameronii with striking red flowers. A beautiful setting, but still a little too brisk in January.

Carmel Valley

A short, scenic drive inland from Carmel-by-the-Sea takes you into Carmel Valley, a string of small residential areas, high-end resorts, golf courses, and wineries. It was Paul’s birthday, and his friend Laura Corrigan—who was also on our trip with her mum, Kathleen—had organized a celebratory lunch at Bernardus Lodge & Spa. So we Ubered out and enjoyed a meal all together in the resort’s Lucia restaurant, overlooking the picturesque valley.

Afterwards, we ventured a little further up the valley to the same property’s wine-tasting room—a compact space in which we ordered the sampling flight and got suitably tipsy. The tasting room itself was nothing special, but it was a great way to spend an afternoon and an experience I’d recommend if you’re in the area. I would now happily go back and spend a long weekend just in the valley, but for first-timers, definitely stay on the coast.

La Playa Hotel

Affectionately referred to as the “Grand Dame of Carmel,” La Playa Hotel has quite the storied past. The grand mansion was originally built in 1905 by landscape painter Chris Jorgensen for his wife, chocolate heiress Angela Ghirardelli. But after the tragic death of her niece at Carmel Beach, the couple sold the home and it was converted into a hotel by adding 20 rooms, then further expanded to its current size in 1940. It was later the site of an Apple company retreat in 1983, during which Steve Jobs unveiled the first working prototype of the Macintosh computer.

A short walk uphill from the beach, the 75-key hotel was taken over in 2012 by Marc & Rose Hospitality, who spent $20 million and over a decade bringing the property back to life—a process that was not without its surprises. Working with such an old structure that had endured a century of storms and salty air, more than not had to be replaced. And at one point, some surprising artifacts were found under the floors in one of the meeting rooms. Once those were accounted for, La Playa began welcoming guests back in Fall 2023 and rightfully reclaimed its Grand Dame title.

During the opening party, a large and rather rowdy group of us who were convinced the hotel is haunted broke away from the festivities, and Paul fashioned a ouija board using paper, a pen, and an empty cigarette packet. All appropriately dressed in black per the event dress code, we gathered around the pool loungers with our laughably makeshift equipment in an attempt to conjure the spirits that reside at La Playa. But we were all too tipsy to take the summoning seriously and the results were disappointingly inconclusive.

Architecture & Design

For its most recent incarnation, La Playa was updated by New York design studio Post Company, which restored the original Spanish Colonial-style building in a respectful manner while introducing new elements to enhance its character. Red roof tiles, whitewashed exterior walls, dark green window awnings all define the hotel’s personality, and the interiors are imbued with worn-in warmth through antique furniture.

The moody and atmospheric lobby features terracotta floors, a dark coffered wood ceiling and textured plaster walls, and is furnished with a variety of vintage pieces. The floral-patterned sofas and a cozy niche set into the wall are great spaces to hang out with a book or cocktails close to the fireplace.

From the lobby, a sweeping staircase leading upstairs to the guest rooms is adorned with patterned tiles on its risers and thin iron railings. A stained-glass window illuminates the stairwell with colored light, and another star-shaped version in one of the ground-floor guest rooms is visible from the street corner surrounded by foliage on the exterior.

Guest Rooms & Amenities

In the guest rooms, Post Company took a lighter approach to the decor, choosing cream for the walls and the linen curtains, while keeping the ceilings and furniture dark brown. Pieces with a vintage vibe are complemented by modern sconces and original plaster shell pendants by Frances Adler Elkins. Each room has a curated bar, while the bathrooms have been updated with colorful tiles and blackened nickel fixtures.

Several guest rooms open directly onto the hotel's gardens, and a handful are located in the pavilion that faces the outdoor swimming pool. The grounds are landscaped with flowerbeds and lawns, criss-crossed by brick pathways and stairs that connect arched colonnades with patios and the pool terrace. There’s a host of seating areas to bring cocktails and bites out to, which I’m sure are much more popular in the summer, and even a giant chess set. To note: there’s no gym or exercise facilities on-property, so you’ll have to jog along the beach or spend a morning surfing to burn those calories.

My room was on the top floor of the main building. Inside, the balance of contemporary and historic design was just right, and it felt fresh and comfortable to stay in. The best part by far was the view of the sunset over the ocean. The silhouette of a huge palm tree was outlined against the orange and purple undersides of fluffy clouds on my first night, while the slither of a crescent moon against a gradient of yellow to midnight blue put on a different but equally stunning show on the second.

Dining & Drinking

The hotel's bar, Bud's, is named after Howard E. “Bud” Allen—a Carmel local who took over the hotel in the 1960s. He introduced a full-time bar, as well as a 10-minute happy hour during which drinks cost only a dime each. This tradition has been brought back with La Playa’s reopening, and is enacted at the bartender’s discretion (exact change required; generous tips advised).

The bar space is dark and intimate, with plenty of wood panelling, leather-upholstered booths and banquettes, and decorative unlacquered brass and carved details. As a fun touch, regulars can hire lockers in which to stash their unfinished bottles of booze for their next visit. Elevated “pub fare” such as grilled cheese, burgers, and a giant ice cream sundae can also be ordered at Bud’s, and it’s pretty solid.

Another La Playa signature is its Champagne Breakfast, which is served buffet-style in the Library space and can by enjoyed on the covered terrace that extends towards the ocean. Fire pits at the far end and string lights overhead transform this space into a cozy spot for enjoying evening cocktails while watching the sun disappear behind the trees.

Point Lobos State Natural Reserve

Another group expedition that spontaneously transpired during the trip was a hike around Point Lobos, a nature reserve on a peninsula surrounded by rocky coves just south of Carmel-by-the-Sea. Our Uber dropped us off at the park entrance, and we followed the trails around the headland with no real sense of where we were going. As we wandered through the pine, oak, and cypress forest and emerged amid the clifftop shrubs, the air was wonderfully fresh and the scenery was breathtaking. Several groups of sea lions could be heard barking and splashing around the rocks below—we managed to spot a few of them basking—and the teal color of the churning waters all made for the most stunning morning stroll. I could’ve stayed there all day.

Thank Yous

SO many to get through this time, it was a big group! Firstly, to Anthony DeWitt and Hannah Redfield from JamesBlack PR, huge thanks for inviting me to such a special weekend and coordinating my travel. Thank you so much to the Marc & Rose team, particularly John and Ginna Grossman, and Mary Crowe, for hosting us all so graciously. Andy Baraghani, thank you for preparing a beautiful dinner for everyone, and introducing me to the Ome Dezin team on the hour that my article about their project was published—fate! Big thanks to the IAMA Theatre Company for putting on such an original and immersive performance during the opening party. All of my trip buddies: Paul Jebara, Laura and Kathleen Corrigan, Sean Santiago, Evan Ross Katz, Billy Jacobson, Michelle Avina, Rachel Gallaher, and everyone else I met over the weekend, thank you for making it such a fun and silly time! D x

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Introduction

*Sighs heavily* So, I departed for São Paulo less than 24 hours after Trump’s 2024 US Presidential Election victory was declared. Needless to say, I was ready to GTFO of America—even if only for four days. It could’ve been anywhere, I wouldn’t have cared. But Brazil turned out to be the perfect (albeit temporary) distraction. The nine-hour red-eye flight from NYC offered enough time to mentally reset (and cry a little), before being plunged into the chaos of a city where one needs to keep their wits about them. Crime and traffic accident rates are both high here, however it’s a much safer place than it once was.

The last time I was in São Paulo was in 2015 for the What Design Can Do conference. I didn’t really get to experience much of the city aside from a quick visit to Parque Ibirapuera, where several sculptural concrete pavilions designed by Oscar Niemeyer—Brazil’s most celebrated architect—are situated amongst the lush greenery. Almost a decade later, I joined a small press trip that offered slightly more opportunity to explore, but we were still relatively confined to the centrally located Cidade Matarazzo for the majority of our time.

The complex of historic buildings that was once a hospital is gradually being transformed into a major cultural and retail hub, at one end of which is the first Soho House in South America, and at the other is the Rosewood São Paulo hotel I had come to check out. The urban resort opened its doors in 2022, and last year made it onto The World’s 50 Best Hotels list at spot #24—the highest ranking in South America. So naturally, I was curious to see what all the fuss is about.

It rained heavily non-stop for the first two days of the trip, and the weather was cool and overcast on the third (the locals all commented that it was unseasonably chilly for November), but the sun finally made an appearance on the final day. The gloom made me feel less guilty about spending time inside the hotel and visiting the museums on our itinerary, and there’s something about a tropical storm that I really love, so I wasn’t too bothered. There’ll be other opportunities to top-up my winter tan.

São Paulo

São Paulo is a city of almost 12 million people, and it feels like it. The density and sprawl of its nondescript concrete towers, the miles of traffic, and the bustle of its sidewalks all contribute to an intense experience—particularly for first-timers. This is Brazil’s commercial and cultural heart, responsible for one third of the country’s GDP, and home to 100s of museums, art galleries, and institutions. Paulistanos, as the locals are known, are not shy about bragging about their city’s financial and civic wealth either.

Located in the south of the country, the climate is tropical so the summer season from October to March is typically hot and humid. The city center is a couple of hour’s drive from the coast and beaches, which urbanites escape to on the weekends (unless they take the hour-long flight to Rio de Janeiro, as many do). The Pinheiros and Tietê rivers cut through the steep hilly topography across which the metropolis spreads undeterred, and its neighborhoods are defined by the huge highways that bisect the packed clusters of skyscrapers.

With a relative lack of well-known distinctive or historic architectural sites, natural wonders, or charming walkable neighborhoods, São Paulo is not on many people’s bucket list. But its creative pulse and cosmopolitan flair make it a unique destination worth more than just a business trip or a layover. You just need to know where to look.

Arts & Culture

Of the aforementioned cultural institutions, a few stand out as “must-sees” for art and design aficionados. The first is Pinacoteca, which focuses on Brazilian works ranging from the 19th century to today, and is housed in a 100-year-old building on the edge of Parque Jardim da Luz. The collection is unusually organized by theme, displaying works from different eras side by side for comparison and contrast, within rooms arranged around tall open volumes for larger site-specific interventions, plus spaces for rotating exhibits.

The São Paulo Museum of Art (MASP) sits within an iconic 1968 brutalist structure by famed modernist architect Lina Bo Bardi, who also designed the transparent glass frames that display the museum’s very impressive permanent collection—the largest of European art on this continent—in a unique way. The concrete and glass building, suspended in the air over a huge plaza by two giant red beams, is immediately recognizable along Avenida Paulista—the city’s primary thoroughfare. Visitors ascend or descend from the plaza into the large open-plan gallery spaces, which can be configured as desired. MASP is currently receiving upgrades and an extension by way of a 14-story tower by Júlio Neves and METRO Arquitetos Associados next door, so the site doesn’t look its best right now. But the museum is still open and should be fully finished by March 2025.

Cidade Matarazzo’s Casa Bradesco—a newly opened venue within one of the former hospital buildings—was worth visiting more for the restoration and the very well-stocked bookshop in the foyer, and less for the slightly underwhelming Anish Kapoor solo exhibition that was on while I was there. The structure was intentionally only partially renovated, allowing the original materials and time-worn surfaces to present its history both inside and out. Landing the Kapoor exhibit was undoubtedly a coup for the curatorial team, but I hope future offerings are more experimental. (Tomás Saraceno was touring the building with us, which may offer a clue…).

Rosewood São Paulo

“The Best Hotel in South America” is quite a claim. The Rosewood São Paulo was effectively awarded the title by The World’s 50 Best Hotels, an influential list published by William Reed that’s compiled annually by a jury of travel industry experts. Rosewood São Paulo (RSP) took the 24th spot in the 2024 edition, the highest of any on the South American continent. (For context, Reschio from Issue 003 ranked 42nd.) So my self-appointed task during my three-night stay was to discern if it has earned this accolade. I obviously haven’t been to every hotel in South America to accurately compare, but having reviewed hotels for over a decade, I have a fairly good idea of what makes for an exceptional guest experience.

RSP is conveniently located just off Avenida Paulista, just behind MASP, in the city’s central Bela Vista neighborhood. As mentioned briefly earlier, it’s part of a historic hospital complex first founded in the early 20th century by Count Francesco Matarazzo, a very wealthy industrialist who emigrated from Italy and became one of Brazil’s richest men via the coffee trade. He built the hospital in 1904 as a gift to São Paulo, and added to the site several times with neoclassical buildings by architects Luigi Pucci and Giulio Mecheli—including a maternity ward he named after his wife, Filomena, in 1943. The complex was given heritage status in 1986, but decommissioned not long after, and the abandoned buildings quickly fell into disrepair.

Along came French entrepreneur Alex Allard, who saw the vast potential of the site and acquired it in 2011, with the intention to transform the derelict structures into an arts, leisure, and entertainment hub for São Paulo. Some fairly spectacular structural gymnastics were required to insert parking and underground facilities beneath the listed buildings, and at the northern end of the complex, brand new constructions were added. One of these, the Mata Atlantica tower (which we’ll get into in a moment), forms part of the RSP hotel together with the former maternity building, where millions of Paulistanos can claim to have been born.

Operated by the Rosewood group as one of 33 of its luxury properties around the world, RSP includes 160 guest rooms and suites, as well as 100 fully serviced, Rosewood-branded private residences—part of a growing trend in the high-end hospitality world, as I reported for Galerie. Allard’s French connections are evident throughout the hotel, and the entangling of French and Brazilian cultures adds an intriguing twist to the property.

Architecture & Design

Two heavy-hitting names, both Frenchmen, were responsible for the hotel’s design: Pritzker Prize-winning architect Jean Nouvel, and celebrated designer Philippe Starck. As noted in my article for Dezeen, the new building by Nouvel—his first ever in Brazil—is a lattice-covered concrete tower that, due to its siting at one of the highest points in the city, commands a stellar view across the metropolis from the upper floors.

Accommodating guest suites and private residences, the Mata Atlantica tower has multiple terraces that are planted with local flora, which will eventually cover the latticework and turn the skyscraper into a vertical jungle. This sits in contrast to the Italianate maternity hospital building, which has been preserved and rejuvenated on the exterior, but entirely overhauled inside.

For the interiors, Starck made it his mission to solely source Brazilian materials and furniture, and use only local suppliers and artisans, resulting in spaces that feel rich, warm, contemporary, and contextual. Particularly impactful are the variety of colorful and richly veined marbles sourced from the nearby state of Paraná, which line the bathrooms in all of the guest rooms and the public areas—and are also carved into ovoid freestanding tubs in the larger suites.

Copious amounts of dark glossy-finished ipe wood, mirrors, mid-century furnishings, and decorative musical instruments are found throughout the earth-toned interiors, while other recurring motifs include diamond-shaped paneling, and beautifully illustrated wallpaper by Brazilian artist Virgílio Neto—whose designs can also be found on custom accessories like umbrellas.

Arrival & Lobby

Talk about making an entrance! Driving in under a plant-covered concrete canopy and along an undulating ramp, a sharp turn leads into a porte cochere. Mirrors entirely cover one side, while the hotel lobby’s seating and bookshelves spill out past the glass facade and onto the driveway on the other. SUVs and limousines with tinted windows pull up one after the other to drop-off elegantly dressed guests, visitors, and others arriving for dinners, weddings, art openings, and whatever else may bring them there.

This hotel is evidently the place to be in São Paulo, and the lobby was buzzing day and night. Set over two half-levels, the space does not have nearly enough seating for the amount of people constantly milling around, and therefore feels perpetually crowded. Perhaps that’s the vibe they’re going for? It’s therefore not surprising that the full-time residents have their own private entrance into the tower, which is much more calm and secluded.

Guest Rooms

I stayed in a Standard Tower Room on a lower floor of the Jean Nouvel building. Although it overlooked a construction site across the street, the room itself was very pleasantly decorated and felt comfortable the moment I walked in. The decor was neither minimally neutral nor overtly expressive (it’s usually one or the other these days), but it could’ve done with a little more personality. For a standard room, it was plenty spacious and had a separate closet area, a loveseat and table at the end of the bed, and a large balcony (which I didn’t really use due to the persistent construction noise). The bathroom was enormous (maybe gratuitously so) and could be opened to the sleeping area via sliding mirrored panels, while the high-tech toilet was tucked away in a separate room—which even during a single-occupancy stay, I appreciate.

Every time I returned to the room, there was a new treat waiting for me! Sweet local snacks, sandals from Brazilian brand Melissa, a full toiletry set, a framed picture of myself(?!)… Lovely touches, though tricky when you already overpacked your carry-on.

During my stay I was offered a peek at a Signature Suite, which is a major jump in square footage from my room. A double-height lounge, a large kitchen and dining area, an office space, and multiple bedrooms over two levels—all with the same earth tones and material selections as the standard room—makes for a very comfortable setup that would particularly work well for a large group staying for an extended period.

Our group was also given a tour of the Penthouse Residence, a truly impressive multi-story bolthole at the tippy top of the tower. Its residents were still sleeping(!) while we poked around, so we tippy toed through the 12,000 square feet of space. The vast double-height living area is filled with collectible furniture pieces and spots to enjoy the incredible panoramic view across the city from every angle. The (unoccupied) bedrooms and smaller lounge areas were less impressive, but the real show-stopper was the rooftop. A full Jurassic Park-like jungle sits on top of the building, through which narrow pathways between the giant plants cut through to seating areas, a hot tub, and finally an infinity pool lined with the most stunning turquoise and rust-veined stone.

Dining & Drinking

RSP has no less than six food and beverage locations on site. The largest is Le Jardin, accessible directly from the lobby and spilling out onto a spacious, covered outdoor patio facing lush landscaping. Bright and open during the day then sexy and moody at night, the cafe and restaurant operates 24/7 and serves breakfast round-the-clock, while lunch and dinner options are time-sensitive. The açai bowl was my morning go-to, and the pizzas were great for a lunchtime snack.

Taraz, on the level above, takes its name from “Matarazzo” and has a menu stacked with traditional South American tapas-style dishes—all of which were delicious (and we tried a lot). The menu book is cleverly designed to resemble a passport, and the interiors have a casual rustic charm that still feels elevated. The restaurant continues onto a brickwork terrace directly above the hotel’s porte cochere, where rows of centuries-old olive trees sourced from Uruguay are planted. This would’ve been perfect for dining al fresco, had the weather allowed.

Then there’s Blaise, a brasserie just off Le Jardin that’s influenced by French-Swiss novelist Blaise Cendrars and therefore looks like an Alpine chalet inside. Endearingly, all the tables are set on the left because he lost his right arm in the first world war. Bands of polished green glass stones are embedded between the logs across the walls, while tiles around the open kitchen each portray a female figure sitting in the birthing position (although with their tessellation, it takes a minute to realize this) as a nod to the maternity ward. Of the 8,000 tiles he produced, ceramic artist Fernando de La Rocque also created 40-50 that depict trans women in the same pose. Points for anyone who spots one!

On the other side of Le Jardin, the dark speakeasy-style Rabo di Galo bar is hidden behind a thick curtain and has a celestial fresco by artist Cabelo painted across its vaulted ceiling. The space hosts live-music performances for guests sipping martinis, mocktails, or caipirinhas (a must if you’re in Brazil!).

The Emerald Bar is the hotel’s casual poolside offering. This semi-outdoor space at lobby level, positioned between the maternity building and the tower, has a bar made from sustainably sourced wood installed beneath a thatched roof. There are a variety of seating options, from cafe tables to loungers, and even some white cast-iron tables and chairs placed in the shallow water—a rather questionable stylistic choice. Both the food (kebabs, ceviche, dips etc.) and the cocktails here are top-notch.

Last but not least, on the top floor of the maternity building is the Belavista bar, designed to resemble the home of Count Matarazzo’s imaginary aunt, with floral-patterned sofas, caned furniture, and more wallpaper by Neto. The bar also serves a rooftop area on the level above, accessed via a spiraling staircase, which I didn’t get a chance to use.

Amenities

Since this is an urban hotel ultimately geared towards business travelers, there aren’t very many places to relax and lay out in the sun. There is a swimming pool next to the Emerald Bar, which has a fun Gaudí-meets-Niemeyer appearance, where a few outdoor loungers and several private cabana rooms are positioned around its curvy edges. Dense foliage around the pool, although beautiful, does block much of the sun. An alternative is the roof terrace on top of the maternity building, which is decorated with tiles hand-painted in green patterns by local artist Sandra Cinto and surrounded by matching trellis, but again it only has a handful of seats alongside a very small pool. If you want a tan, go to Rio, I guess.

The Araya Spa, on a lower floor of the tower, is run in partnership with French skincare brand Guerlain and offers a wide variety of treatments, as well as private rooms that can be booked for groups or parties. Before my massage, I was given a pure cacao drink that was intended to slow my heart rate and relax my muscles, but it tasted so bad I could only finish half of it. And alas, my masseuse was not a sexy muscular Brazilian man as I had been hoping for. But the woman I did get could easily have been plucked straight out of a high-end beauty ad (as she may well have been) and she was very good.

I also had a reflexology treatment in the Crystal Room, a first for me since I don’t particularly like having my feet touched (I’m very ticklish). But the therapist was gentle and it was relaxing, though I’m not sure the floor-to-ceiling displays of crystals did anything other than look pretty. The fitness suite on the same level is one of the better hotel gyms I’ve used, and is very well equipped for both cardio and weight workouts. Extra snaps there.

RSP has no shortage of space for events, including a gigantic ballroom that has so far hosted everything from Formula 1 parties to cattle markets (no joke!). When the cows have left, it’s also an ideal venue for large weddings, and there’s even a chapel for services on site—originally built in 1922 and dedicated to Santa Luzia at the request of Count Matarazzo’s sister-in-law Virginia, after her son's eye-related illness was cured. The restoration of the chapel, which is typically open to the public, included the installation of a stained-glass rosette window by internationally acclaimed Brazilian artist Vik Muniz—one of a multitude of commissions from local talents for the hotel, which we’re about to get into.

Arts Program

One of the most notable and impressive elements of the hotel is a commitment to spotlighting Brazilian artists. It houses over 450 site-specific works created by 57 creatives from all over Brazil: from established names like Regina Silveira, whose insect-patterned carpets run through the lobby and ground-floor hallways; to emerging talents such as Walmor Corrêa, who’s behind the beautiful botanical-inspired illustrations with a fantastical twist that line each elevator.

Along with the other commissioned pieces I’ve mentioned earlier, a couple more standouts include Laura Vinci’s floating golden leaves and branches suspended in the maternity building’s fifth-floor corridor, and a collection of photos by Cristiano Mascaro that eerily depict the building pre-renovation and are displayed throughout the hotel. Plus so many more that I didn’t note down correctly. There’s also a residency program, revolving exhibitions in the hallways, and an evident continued interest in supporting local arts.

Overall, the focus on “local” is the hotel’s greatest achievement. Both the renovated historic building and the contemporary tower are cleverly tied together through the use of these custom artworks and Brazilian materials, plus the native flora that creates lush environments around and over the two structures. Not to mention all of the subtle, multifarious nods to the site’s past, which strike a progressive and forward-looking tone, and the blending of French and Brazilian cultures in a way that doesn’t insist upon itself or feel too contrived. Together with the state-of-the-art facilities, diverse culinary offerings, and plenty of chic touches, the team has been able to create a “see-and-be-seen” spot for São Paulo without really trying that hard. If you build it, they will come, as is said.

It’s all of this—but particularly the art curation, IMO—that collectively sets RSP above so many others and likely landed the hotel its rightful spot on The World’s 50 Best list. As for all the other hotels in South America, I’m more than happy to come and experience any challengers to the title, and offer my two cents in a future issue of this newsletter. (Please email me if you’re interested in making this happen!) And if the U.S. becomes unbearable over the next four years, Brazil is definitely a solid relocation option…

Thank Yous

Firstly, thanks to Chase Pardue at Purple PR for suggesting and setting up this trip. A huge and heartfelt thank you to Juliette Granon for shepherding us so dutifully, accommodating our every whim and desire, and generally being such a trooper. Our other (official) tour guides, André Vecchi and Lucio Gueller, thank you for sharing your knowledge and expertise so enthusiastically. To my trip-mates, Rachel King, Dalya Benor, and Arthur Lubow, thanks so much for your candor and conversation, it was a great time with you all. Katiane Romero at Soho House São Paulo, thank you so much for lunch! And from the Rosewood team, special thanks to Monica Cipolla for allowing us a sneak peak at the penthouse (despite its occupants being asleep in some of the bedrooms), Silvio Araújo for ordering everything on the menu wherever we dined, and Edouard Grosmangin for hosting us so graciously (and for the umbrellas!). D x