Journalist, Author & Syndicated Columnist
Grenada was the setting, the hotel the Spice Island Beach Resort. As I swamp in my very own pool, located on my very private patio in front of my very private room, I was thinking about two things. One, some of the cliches really are true. I could overhear little American tourist spawns shouting “Marco . . . Polo!” at each other from the communal pool. I didn’t have to look at them, though. Make that double my pleasure.
Part of the Route 30A New Urbanism movement, where places like Rosemary Beach and Alys Beach recreate small-town Americana fantasies in a strikingly appealing fashion, WaterColor is both mesmerizing and a little unnerving. Mesmerizing because it’s perfect, and unnerving for the very same reason. Most people who know the area are aware that the film “The Truman Show” was filmed nearby Seaside for a reason: It looked too good to be true.
I like to think of myself as an adventurous traveler. I’ve hiked glaciers in New Zealand, eaten sheep entrails in the Orkney Islands and jet skied my way around Bora Bora. But when my mother suggested that we take a family trip to Hawaii last February, the little kid in me emerged and I wanted to do nothing more than just be a tourist. And for that, the best place to go was the island of Oahu.
The WaterColor Inn & Resort, named for the small planned town it fronts on the Panhandle’s charming Route 30A (between Destin and Panama City) is one of those hotels that has had a surprisingly good reputation from the start, for no particular reason. The proof is in the fact that everytime you try to book a stay, the rates are astronomical. That is, if you can even get a room. Hassle! Just to make a visit more difficult, you can no longer fly nonstop to the region. Already, you’re wondering: Why not just go to the Caribbean?
RARELY does a month go by anymore without urgent news from Honolulu’s Waikiki Beach, now feverishly making itself over after decades of fading away. New shops! More malls! New hotels! More glitz, more glamour, better decor…oh, and don’t forget, higher prices too. Less than four miles away, another neighborhood is experiencing a resurgence of an entirely different sort. Along Waialae Avenue, there’s no fancy window dressing, but there is great food. Here, three great stops to make.
To quote songwriter Frank Loesser, baby it’s cold outside. And nothing helps beat the winter doldrums than a weekend getaway to some place fabulous. We know what you’re thinking: There’s not enough time to plan a trip… It’ll be too expensive… It’s not really a romantic getaway if you have to plan all the details rather than your man. Don’t worry about that. We’ve got all that figured out. Read on.
Jamaica. It’s where Stella got her groove back. It’s where Errol Flynn entertained guests during his heyday. And it’s where we went to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Technically we had been to Jamaica several times already, but it was only for layovers at Sangster International Airport in Montego Bay, before boarding on connecting flights to other Caribbean destinations such as St. Lucia, Grand Cayman and Bonaire.
When you think of famous golfing destinations, California’s Pebble Beach and Scotland’s St. Andrews immediately spring to mind, thanks to years of televised tournaments. But over the past few years, Eagle Ridge Resort & Spa–located about 150 miles west of Chicago in the heart of historic Galena, Ill.–has been building quite the reputation as a must-play golf course.
During her recent three-week trip to Vietnam, actress Jordana Spiro made do with just one backpack. “Really, there’s almost nothing you can’t buy there if you need it,” she says. “It’s a completely amazing place and I’d go back in a second.”
It is with trepidation I walk back to my room after dinner. I am used to strolling back to hotels in foreign countries, but I am not accustomed to looking overboard into a pitch black ocean while doing so. But when you are on a cruise ship, that’s what you do. You lay in the sun. You eat plenty of food. You relax. And if you’re a land lover like me, you think about what it takes to keep a liner like the M/S Paul Gauguin afloat.
The Indonesian island of Bali is steeped in history and ritual. Every day, the Balinese leave canang sari (or offerings of flowers, money and food) at temples, on shrines or even outside their own homes in the hopes that good fortune will smile upon their families. Despite the bombings last year in Kuta and Kimbaran, Bali is not a paradise lost.
As an international port of call, Singapore is the embarking point for many top-end cruise lines, such as the Regent Seven Seas voyage through Australasia. And savvy travelers looking to overcome jet lag before boarding their cruise ships are starting their trips off in Singapore, where they can get their bearings and enjoy a few days basking in a shopper’s paradise. Fashionistas in the know will tell you that Beverly Hills’ Rodeo Drive has nothing on Singapore’s tony Orchard Road.
Kylie Minogue has a home in Melbourne’s trendy South Yarra. So do a slew of other Australian celebrities. It’s not difficult to see why. The streets are lined with unique and immaculate homes. But while trendy and upscale, South Yarra is anything but snobby. Full of charming cafes and funky shops selling cutting edge fashion, South Yarra is one of Melbourne’s best-kept secrets.
When people hear the word “lodge” they tend to think of something rustic. Nowhere is the fallacy of this assumption more wonderfully apparent than in stunning New Zealand, where a slew of lodges, numbering in the hundreds, are rapidly gaining in popularity. These lodges, which promote themselves with themes (nature, fishing, wine and more) in an effort to lure visitors from afar, are as sumptuous as they are varied.
It was in Melbourne’s chic South Yarra district that the standard was set. Hungry and suffering from extreme jet lag, my photographer and I also were cranky because a local had guided us to a “fabulous breakfast place” that wasn’t open yet. After walking back toward the chic, boutique Lyall Hotel where we were staying, we settled on Cafe Darling – a small, neighborhood eatery. I ordered a focaccia veggie sandwich with a piquant salsa dressing. He opted for a softly poached egg, which was served with thick slices of ham and tomato on a chunk of toasted French bread.
“Celebrities migrate toward the Caribbean because it’s one of the few places they can go where they’re left alone,” says Keija Minor, editor in chief of Travel Savvy magazine. “It’s the perfect place for them to get some relaxation, quiet time and seclusion.” What’s not to love? The fruit and fish are always fresh, and the weather usually cooperates. Besides the laid-back tranquility of the islands, celebs also enjoy a bit of welcome anonymity from fans and paparazzi when they’re tucked away in their own pockets of paradise.
Scotland has become almost a caricature of itself in the American media with comics imitating Sean Connery’s brogue and Mike Myers “If it’s not Scottish, it’s crap!” skits on “Saturday Night Live.” Often viewed as less cosmopolitan than England but not pastoral enough to be as pretty as Switzerland, Scotland actually is all that and more. With some fabulous gourmet restaurants, the gorgeous countryside and some of the most amazing castles and ruins — all within a few hours drive — Scotland is a wonderful destination for travelers who want it all without having to learn another language.
Sports fans know of French Lick as the hometown of basketball legend Larry Bird. But during a period that lasted from the late 1800s to the 1950s, the small Midwestern city was as famous for its swanky visitors as its natural spring water. Pluto Water, as it was dubbed, wasn’t like the mineral water we’re accustomed to today. The sulfur-rich drink was more of a diuretic than a refreshing thirst quencher. Hence, its slogan: “When nature won’t, Pluto will.” Guests were encouraged to carry canes during their morning walks. When nature called — and apparently it called quite often after a glassful of Pluto Water — it was considered the polite thing to place your cane on the outhouse door to indicate it was occupied. It was rude in those days to knock on a bathroom door.
Refer to any of the 19,000 inhabitants of the Orkney Islands as a Scot, and he or she will politely inform you they are not Scots. They’re Orcadians. They may live just a few miles north of mainland Scotland, but these island dwellers are an entity unto themselves. Yes, they eat haggis and talk with accents as thick as the blood used in black pudding. But unlike residents of cosmopolitan Edinburgh and nouveau-chic Glasgow, Orcadians don’t revel in trendy nightlife or upscale boutiques catering to the rich and bored.
During a recent trip to Scotland, I stayed at a boutique hotel in Edinburgh, a grand castle in Shapinsay and a quaint bed & breakfast in Stromness.