First, I look for places I hope will strike the perfect balance between relaxed, easy-going, natural vibes and enough comforts for it to feel like a treat. I work really hard throughout the year (what entrepreneur doesn’t?) and when I’m off duty, the biggest luxury is to have everything fall into place in an unassuming, effortless way. (I realize as I type that this is exactly the experience I hope people have with my designs, so I guess it’s not surprising that I’m looking for the same thing for myself.)

Next, I talk to my partner and decide how adventurous we are feeling—does a road trip and constantly moving around sound exciting, or are we looking to chill?  We love to do both; what feels right just depends on what’s been happening in our lives.

Finally, time of year plays a big role in our decision-making.  Of course, there is the obvious weather factor. But also, I like uncrowded places. With so much of my work life occurring around so many dynamic, inspiring people—I realize how lucky I am to be able to say that—having time to completely switch off and just be quieter is so critical for my well-being and my creativity.

This year, I was planning a trip for late June. This was my short list:

1.    A road trip from the Médoc to Île de Ré and up through Brittany. I love road trips through Europe, stopping in small villages and seeing the expansive landscape, and after hearing Yolanda’s tales of France’s West Coast, this trip has been at the top of my list for so long.

2.    A trip to the Alps. I have always wanted to stay at Villa Flor in the Engadin (my friend Silka told me about it, and you never go wrong with a recommendation from her). Or Waldhaus Sils (my friend Akari told me she is visiting this summer and is another friend whose word you just trust blindly). I went to Gstaad one summer when my mom came to visit—we started in Zurich (loved our dinner at Kronenhalle and swimming in the lake the next morning after too much wine), and then drove into the mountains. I honestly think the Alps are one of the best-kept summer travel secrets—the air is so fresh, the sun so bright, the food so yum… the definition of gemütlichkeit.

3.    As I was debating these two choices, I decided I was craving proper summery beach feels by the sea. Yes, the West Coast of France is on the ocean, but I wasn’t sure how warm it would be in mid-June, especially up near Brittany.  I also have been travelling a lot for work lately, and was feeling more chill, less road trip. And that’s how I turned my attention to Greece.

I’d visited Patmos the previous summer (another YOLO rec) and fell in love with it. I made sure to go in July before the August craze, and it really was perfect. It’s not the easiest to get to, but I am sure that’s part of what protects its charm.

In Patmos, I’d stayed at Pagostas, and loved chatting with the owner, Gregoris, who invited us to dinner one night with his friend who had just been to Sifnos and was raving about it. She said if we liked Patmos, then Sifnos would be perfect for us. A few months later, I was trading travel tips with my friends Aziz and Serena, who said they also love Sifnos. We’d trusted their recommendation to check out Pantelleria the summer before, so knew we shared a vibe.

The first task when planning a trip to a Greek island is figuring out the best route. Often you need to fly to one island and hop a ferry to another, and the times rarely stack up.  For Patmos, we had to fly to Kos and then get a private boat, which cost the same as the flight! Or else overnight on Kos before an early morning ferry, which would have cost just as much and we’d have lost a night… not ideal. At first, I thought we would be in the same boat (pun intended) with Sifnos—it looked like every flight from London to Athens would get us in after the departure time for all ferries… but luckily my stubborn side kicked in and I found a way via Santorini. There was a helicopter option from Athens to Sifnos that wasn’t too unreasonable (similar to a private boat), but the baggage allowance was limited, so we’d have to pack very light. 

With our flights sorted, the next order of business was figuring out where to stay.

Practically every article I read about Sifnos recommended Verina Astra or its sister property, Verina Terra. Both were booked out for the entire summer by the time I looked, and my friend Aziz recommended we investigate an Airbnb. After scouring hundreds of properties, I found what looked like the most perfect place… but could it be too good to be true?  The cynical side of me was very concerned but honestly, it just looked perfect… so I took the plunge.

I am pleased to report it was even more perfect than I imagined. Kavos is a cluster of little houses perched about Fassalou Beach, at the center of which is a communal pool and a bar run by the nicest people. It’s basically the best of both worlds—you get to have your own private home with a terrace and kitchen, but still have a place to grab a coffee or a snack or drink. I am an early riser while my partner sleeps late, so having our own terrace and space to be in the mornings is so nice for me. I do yoga, catch up on emails, read, have a coffee… It’s nice. The vibe at Kavos is so chill, and the views are breathtaking. It was in a great spot on the island, too. There isn’t one perfect spot to base yourself, since there are great things to see in the north, south, east and west, so be prepared to drive. I am a very happy passenger and luckily my boyfriend loves to drive, so it works for us. We loved listening to tunes and checking out the landscape as we discovered the island. On that point, make sure you reserve your car (and flag if it needs to be automatic) ahead of time—you will definitely need one. (We used Rent-a-Car Sifnos – info@rentacar-sifnos.gr.)

Lastly, I looked for recommendations for beaches and restaurants. Luckily my friend Chris did a pop-up last year on Sifnos for his London sushi spot, Urchin. I knew Chris would send me in the right direction. Here are a few places we loved:

Beaches

Spend a day driving to the remote beach in the north of the island called Vroulidia. You can drive all the way down, but I would park before the road becomes gravel-y and then walk down. Even to get to that point, take heed – the road is not for the faint of heart! But it’s worth it. We loved it so much we went twice. There are two beach tavernas and we tried both, but I think the better one is to the left when you get to the bottom of the hill.

For a more lo-fi beach day, Chrisopiggi Beach is really nice. You just bring your beach towel and lie in the sand. The taverna there is great for lunch, too. It’s low-key and relaxing.

Vathy Beach is also great. There is an organized beach club towards the end of the beach if you want a lounge chair. I was not a fan of the very poppy pop music, but I suppose you need a little dose of that when you’re on a southern European holiday!  And you must eat at Manolis for lunch. Don’t go anywhere else. Trust me.

Paralia Seralia – This is a great little swimming spot my friend Christie told me to check out. It has a cute lunch place called Captain George, which opens at 1:30 and has just 5 tables, so if timing works to eat there, that’s the move. We always left the house too late (again, Max sleeps in), so we were more on the 4pm lunch train. but I wanted to share as Christie loved it, and I know that means it’s great.

We stayed just above Fassalou Beach, and I went there on my own one morning while Max was sleeping (haha Max is going to kill me when he reads this!). Lucky for him, he didn’t miss much. The beach was nice, of course, but I wouldn’t make a day trip for it if you aren’t staying at Kavos–—I also didn’t think the taverna was the best, but good to check out if you have a free morning due to a late sleeping partner (ok, ok Max, I’ll stop now).

Restaurants

Cantina – this is where to go for a special night out.  It’s a set course-sharing menu and the restaurant is nestled in a valley and into the rocks. The food is delicious, and the team is wonderful. Try to get the table high up above everyone—it’s a great view and feels really private.

Pelicanos – This restaurant is also owned by Giorgas, who owns Cantina. We loved it here so much we went twice. The crab cacio e pepe is insane… it’s the sort of restaurant I wish there were more of. It’s food you really want to eat but can’t easily make for yourself at home.

The taverna at Vroulida (see above in beaches), when you make a left at the bottom of the hill, was so good. Max and I shared a Greek salad and I fell in love with amaranth greens.

Manolis at Vathy Beach is great. Try to get a table near the ocean.

To Limanaki – A taverna at Faros that was so yum. We went there on our first night—it’s just 5 minutes from Kavos and was the perfect authentic Greek meal to set the tone.  

Bars

We stopped by the Kastro, a mountaintop village, on our way back from Vroulidia one evening and checked out Loggia, a really cute wine bar with incredible views and good music (I did a lot of Shazam-ing that night). We weren’t super hungry for dinner due to our late lunch habit, so just had some nibbles at Loggia before heading back to our house for an early-ish night under the stars. 

Chris told me about a local scene to watch the sunset at a beach café called Paralia Beach Bar at the Kamares port – we didn’t make it, but wanted to pass along the tip.

And lastly, I didn’t make this either, but I would be completely remiss not to share a friend’s exuberance about Botzi Bar, which apparently is really fun. I am imagining it like something from the bar scene in Call Me By Your Name—I’m not sure why I have ‘80s Italian disco in my head, but as I didn’t end up going, someone else will have to go to tell me more! 

And there you have my Sifnos tips. It was the perfect choice for a late June getaway –just what the doctor ordered. We were able to really go with the flow and chill.

A final bit of advice: I like to do all my research ahead of a trip so that when I get somewhere, I can completely detach. I don’t love having to make reservations or planning when I am on holiday; I really like to go with the flow. So if you are like me, and want to avoid reservations and too many crowds, it’s best to avoid August, like most of the Greek Islands or southern Europe, for that matter. Which is why exactly why—surprise, surprise—I am planning a little getaway to the Alps in August!

The post Just Back from Sifnos appeared first on Yolo Journal.

Just over two hours from Paris by train or car, the twin towns of Deauville and Trouville-sur-Mer on the Normandy coast have long lured Parisians with their Art Deco charm and relaxed atmosphere. While the South of France tends to steal the spotlight as far as beaches are concerned, Normandy is a much more convenient and low-key getaway from the hustle of the city. Both Deauville and Trouville-sur-Mer border the water and feel quintessentially French—cobblestone streets wind between quaint Tudor-style buildings, checkered bistro chairs spill onto sidewalks at buzzy restaurants, and candy-colored umbrellas and striped cabanes are sprinkled along the wide, sandy beach. My Parisian husband spent his childhood summers there, and now that we have our own kids, we’ve returned to Deauville several times over the years. It’s an easy weekend trip from the city, and while the towns are now fairly well-known with high-end shops, horse racing, polo events, and the Deauville American Film Festival held every September, this corner of France is still charming and not over touristed. 

Our most recent escape to the area was prompted by the April vacances—a two-week school break for our five-year-old and toddler, and the perfect excuse for us to slip away from the city for a bit of fresh air. We packed up our kids and set off on the short drive to the coast, making a worthwhile detour to visit Monet’s home and gardens in Giverny. If you plan to visit his home, I highly recommend purchasing tickets in advance, as lines for entry can be quite long. 

The village of Giverny is small and easily walkable, with plenty of cafés, restaurants and museums dotted throughout. The weather was on our side, so we enjoyed a relaxed lunch outdoors on the terrace at La Parenthèse—a casual restaurant where our kids could play in the garden between courses. Afterwards, we grabbed a coffee for the road from La Capucine, which also seemed popular for lunch, and took note of Restaurant Baudy—which was also recommended by friends—for another visit. If we hadn’t been on toddler nap-time countdown, I would’ve loved to linger a bit longer and visit the Musée Giverny Impressionnismes, but instead, we hopped back in the car to finish the drive. 

For those heading to Normandy from Paris without a car, you can cut out the Giverny diversion and get on a direct train to the center of Deauville. With Trouville just a short walk away across a bridge, both towns are easily accessible on foot. The area has a range of Airbnbs (we’ve previously stayed at this seafront apartment in Trouville), but this time we opted to stay at Hôtel Flaubert, a Neo-Norman style boutique hotel right on the beach. It has a cozy, inn-like atmosphere and was a great home base, steps from the water and minutes from the center of town. Most rooms have sea views and a coastal color palette of blue and white that feel fitting with the scenery. After checking in, we traded our luggage for sand toys and headed towards the beach to fulfill a promise of seashell scavenging. Each time we returned to the hotel throughout our stay, our daughter took delight in asking for the heavy brass room key, while the friendly hotel attendant tucked away our stroller and other sand-filled belongings.  

Normandy famously has unpredictable and often gloomy weather, so thankfully there’s plenty to do beyond the beach. We began most mornings with coffee and a slice of cake on the terrace at Villa Gypsy, a quaint café and boutique, and one of the few spots serving a quality latte in the area. (Many local businesses open later in the morning and are often closed several days a week, so plan accordingly.) After our morning coffee, we strolled the streets of Trouville before deciding on the day’s main outing: a museum visit one day, and a trip across the bridge to Deauville for lunch and a game of miniature golf the next, and we always incorporated some beach time when the weather permitted. One of the highlights of our trip was visiting Les Franciscaines, a beautifully restored cultural center near the Deauville hippodrome. Entry is free and inside there’s a multi-level library, rotating exhibitions, and a salon de thé, and we found it to be a wonderful stop for both adults and children. Another culture hit is the Musée Villa Montebello in Trouville—a museum dedicated to local history and artists, with creative workshops for all ages. If your visit coincides with the French vacances, be sure to register early for the workshops, as they tend to fill up quickly.

Deauville has some high-end boutiques, including a smaller outpost of the famous Parisian department store Printemps, located on the main Place de Morny. And design enthusiasts will appreciate Le BO Magasin, Par Hasard Maison, and La Maison, which has a casual cafe that’s perfect if you have kids in tow. In Trouville, L’Usage du Papier is a personal favorite—a charming book and paper shop with a tasteful edit of curiosities, like the embroidered pencil bag that I happily brought home as a souvenir. À La Petite Jeanette is another beloved women’s clothing store which I’ve yet to visit, but have saved for next time. 

And finally, the main event in Normandy: dining. The region is known for its exceptional seafood, and both towns have lively fish markets and classic brasseries where starched white tablecloths practically overflow with trays of fresh oysters. If seafood isn’t your thing, most menus also have the typical French classics like steak frites. Some of our tried-and-true favorites are Le Drakkar, Les Vapeurs, Le Central, Le Comptoir et la Table, and Les Quatre Chats. For something more refined, L’Essentiel is a standout. And don’t miss Martine Lambert, Deauville’s beloved ice cream institution, for a sweet treat. If you’re traveling with kids, book earlier reservations to avoid the crowds, and maybe save Les Quatre Chats and L’Essentiel for another visit.

By the end of our short trip, our daughter was already asking when we could return—and I couldn’t blame her. A few days of building seashell-topped sandcastles, making trips to the glacier, and playing surprisingly competitive rounds of mini golf were such simple joys that made the getaway memorable for all of us. And beyond these towns we’ve come to love, there’s still so much of Normandy to explore—like the artistic port city of Honfleur, or the dramatic cliffs of Étretat—that we know will keep us coming back. 

The post Just Back From… Normandy appeared first on Yolo Journal.

As a designer and champagne dealer, I travel for work often—but this Easter, I needed quality time with my daughters, ideally somewhere warm, and with a pool. But when spring didn’t show up, I turned to a place that never disappoints: Venice. The city has always felt magical to me—I go often for work and still remember the awe of my first visit. I wanted my kids to see it through my eyes. When you travel with children, stick to what you love. They’ll feel it.

I booked a last-minute trip, trusting that my favorite spots would still welcome us. In Italy, they usually do. Italians love regulars, and they love kids even more. Traveling with children here feels easy. We’re a family of four: our daughters, ages 6 and 8, my wife and me. I surprised them right after landing with the best possible arrival: a Venetian water taxi. If there’s one right move in Venice, it’s hopping straight into a water taxi. After 20 minutes, you glide past bridges and canals—and watch your kids’ faces light up. It’s unforgettable. Worth every cent of the €140 it cost.

We stayed near Zattere, in a studio apartment with a view of the canal—a perfect location, just five minutes from the Accademia Bridge, which to me is the center of Venice. (Side note: I just returned from another trip to Venice and Vicenza for work and discovered the amazing Palazzo dei Fiori by Room Mate. I’ve already booked it again for a few future stays—just because I love it that much.) Our first stop was the Venice Venice Hotel—now a favorite—right on the Grand Canal. Owned by the Golden Goose brand, it’s an interesting mix of design and art, with a restaurant that serves the best Americano I’ve ever had. Don’t miss their lunch menu, served from 11am to 5pm. This place has become a personal tradition. From there walk, explore, and of course… gelato. Let your kids discover what a city with no cars feels like. There’s nothing like it.

That evening we had dinner at Vini da Arturo, a tiny cozy place that feels like home. The same team, Ernesto and Hanni, have been running it for decades, with a menu that hasn’t changed (only the prices have). Think pasta, meat, and a perfect mixed salad plate. They hand you the celebrity photo albums, and when your kids recognize the stars who’ve eaten there—even their Netflix heroes—it’s a special kind of magic. At the table, I overheard a waiter chatting with a guest who was considering another glass of wine. Hanni said, “There’s no driving in Venice, so…” And he’s right.

After dinner, we strolled to Piazza San Marco, which remains romantic and timeless, and listened to live piano music at Caffè Florian under the stars. I sent my wife and daughters ahead, while I found a flower vendor nearby and surprised them with red roses. One of those moments you remember not for its grandeur, but for its warmth. An Americano, some olives and chips, and the music in the background—perfection. A gentle walk home. The perfect end to our first day.

There are a few places I’d travel to just for lunch or dinner, and one of them is All’Arco—a tiny spot near the Rialto Bridge serving Venetian cicchetti: bread with all sorts of toppings. At All’Arco, Matteo Pinto performs pure magic. The menu changes hourly, driven by his inspiration. It’s the best seafood experience you’ll ever have, and it’s just on bread, but for me, it’s gastronomic heaven. Go for cicchetti and ask for the fish platter—it’s next level, and some of the finest street food you may ever try. It’s more than a snack—it’s a late breakfast/early lunch combo that fills you up completely.

Palazzo Fortuny is another favorite—a chic and very feminine space, full of Venetian flair and amazing art to explore. Mariano Fortuny was a visionary Spanish designer and artist known for his innovations in fashion, lighting, and textile design, and his palazzo in Venice—once his home and studio—is worth visiting for its rich blend of art, history, and timeless elegance preserved in a magical Venetian setting. And since there’s no driving in Venice, an Americano after lunch just feels right. A hidden gem: Hotel Flora. Down a small street between all the haute couture shops, you’ll find one of Venice’s most romantic courtyards. An Americano or two (they offer both classic and unique variations), and you’ll find yourself lingering. It’s unforgettable. Last drink: Palazzo Gritti. A place where I feel like a martini is the best choice. Waiters are perfectly dressed, as are the hotel guests—always some level of celebrity—and the vibe is unforgettable. Just make sure not to arrive in a T-shirt or looking like a tourist.

Time to leave Venice—but do it in style. Book a water taxi and surprise the kids again. This time, head to Palazzo Gritti for breakfast. Yes, it’s usually only for hotel guests… but it depends. Show up for a drink the day before, chat, be charming. Dress up. If the weather’s good, everyone will be on the terrace, leaving the elegant indoor hall empty. That’s your chance. The buffet breakfast, posh decor, roses everywhere, and a small window overlooking a gondola traffic jam—pure magic for a few hours.

Then, take the vaporetto (yes, the bus without tires) to Piazzale Roma to pick up a rental car. Renting a car in Venice always feels strange. Forty-five minutes later, we checked into Villa Michelangelo, near Vicenza. I’m an architect—and as any good student knows, you can’t miss Andrea Palladio and his legacy. Andrea Palladio was a 16th-century Italian architect whose harmonious, proportion-driven designs and revival of classical Roman architecture laid the foundation for Western architectural standards, profoundly influencing everything from European palaces to American government buildings. Villa La Rotonda, Teatro Olimpico or the Basilica Palladiana in Vicenza are must-sees.  

And here’s a travel win: I found Villa Michelangelo on Booking.com, drawn in by its glass façade. There are only two executive suites—I highly recommend booking one of them. The calm is unforgettable. With mountain views and total serenity, it’s the kind of place that makes you want to stay in your room for hours. The suite itself is stunning: soaring ceilings, a full glass wall framing the forested mountains with mist rising gently from the valley—like something out of a dream. The interior feels like a luxurious alpine sanatorium from another era—serene, spacious, and thoughtfully designed, with stone columns, elegant iron handrails, and a touch of Roman grace. There are daybeds so perfectly placed and inviting, you’ll find yourself reading for hours. I never thought I’d care about a daybed—until this place changed my mind. Pure relaxation after the intensity of Venice.

For dinner, we went to Trattoria Lovise—home of the best ravioli in the world. Yes, the best. The dough is much larger than usual, yet at least twice as thin—almost transparent—giving you a subtle preview of the filling. Whether it’s ricotta and spinach, sweet pumpkin, or truffle-infused, each variation is delicately wrapped and generously dressed in melted butter and sage. The look is elegant, the aroma irresistible, and the taste unforgettable. I highly recommend ordering the mixed plate of all flavors—you’ll almost always get a few extra pieces as a delightful surprise. I was introduced to it through friends, who are like family—and in Italy, family is everything. We were lucky enough to sit at the chef’s table overlooking the kitchen and the “gratis table,” where family and friends are served off-menu, dish after dish. Picture a perfectly grilled tuna steak, seared just right to keep the inside tender and moist. There’s also calamari, pure and simple as nature intended—lightly grilled and served alongside a soft bed of creamy polenta. The kitchen is helmed by a strong, older woman who runs the show while chatting nonstop. Our table was served by equally elegant older ladies speaking only Italian. You won’t find this kind of experience anywhere else. It’s a bit outside the city, mostly locals eat there—the best compliment of all. Save this one for something truly authentic.

The next day: stops at Villa La Rotonda, Teatro Olimpico, and Basilica Palladiana. First up, Villa La Rotonda, where Palladio’s vision of perfect symmetry comes to life in a hilltop villa offering serene views and architectural harmony. From there, step into the enchanting Teatro Olimpico, the world’s oldest indoor theater, where illusion and architecture merge in a stunning fixed-perspective stage set that tricks the eye and stirs the imagination. Finally, wander through the Basilica Palladiana, a civic Renaissance gem reimagined with soaring loggias and a distinctive copper roof, now home to rotating art exhibitions that breathe new life into its historic grandeur. Then a quick coffee, and on to La Meneghina, a wine and champagne bar in Vicenza run by the brother duo, Andrea and Alberto. They serve only grower champagne and French wine—no Aperol, no spritz, no prosecco. And the wine list has more than 1500 entries. Download it and study before you go there. The food? Insane improvised seafood plates—eel, tuna, calamari—easily Michelin-star level. A must-see, must-taste kind of spot. Food and wine is a 10/10. And as we are in Italy, the kids’ pasta is not on the menu, but arrives before you ask for it. And happy parents can focus on champagne. 

We headed back to the hotel—our suite was so nice, and since the Saudi Arabian Gran Prix was on (my family are huge F1 fans) we stayed in to watch. Around dinner, I went back into Vicenza to Pizza dei Signori, where Matteo Grandi, a Michelin-starred chef, just opened a new pizza place. They serve four types of pizza, including a low-carb option. It’s a must-visit. I really had to convince them to give me takeaway—they are so quality-focused they insist you have to eat straight away—but even after a 10-minute drive, it was an insane next level pizza. A classic salami, margherita, and some super salmon pizzas are still on my mind. The low-carb pizza has nearly no base—so thin, even compared to Neapolitan, it’s way thinner. The others were classic or even quite thick. And the smell… you can clearly see that the Michelin-star cafe behind it is taking care of every single ingredient involved in this recipe. And you feel it.On our last day, we did some “window shopping” for Palladian villas. Not quite in our budget yet, but that doesn’t stop us from manifesting it. We picked three villas within a short driving distance from a list of Palladian villas and went to check them out. We paused at Villa Saraceno, which is one of the earliest works of Andrea Palladio. It was my favorite—with its simple yet aristocratic vibe and an unusually asymmetrical design for Palladio. We wandered into the back garden and set up our supermercato picnic: the finest San Daniele prosciutto and other Italian goodies. We sat there and imagined the villa was ours. And for a moment, it truly felt like it was.

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I’ve been wanting to take another trip to southern Africa ever since I returned from my first visit, a safari in Botswana, in March of 2020—just days before Covid travel restrictions kicked in. Last month, I was invited to return, this time to the tip of South Africa, by the PR team for two hotels in the Cape Town area. The plan was to fly into Cape Town for two days, then continue on to the Winelands Region. While I initially felt a twinge of disappointment that the trip didn’t feature a safari—especially after the 15-hour flight from NYC—I was thrilled at the prospect of experiencing one of the world’s southernmost cities, with the most unique of residents: penguins.

After the long flight, it was a mercifully quick 20-minute drive from the airport, where we checked into Cape Grace, a storied Cape Town property that opened in 1996 and was one of the first hotels on the V&A Waterfront—think NYC’s South Street Seaport on a much larger scale. The oldest working harbor in the country, the V&A was reinvigorated throughout the 2000s as a restaurant, retail, and cultural hub, including the huge Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa. Having recently reopened after a nine-month renovation by design firm 1508 London, the hotel leans into its location with windows spanning its rear side, overlooking the yacht marina and harbor. While much of the decor is classic—beautifully covered wingback chairs and leather sofas—there is also a deep sense of place, with displays of local objets and books about South Africa throughout. (You can read my full hotel review here!) 

It was late afternoon by the time I had settled into my room, and I thankfully had the rest of the day free. Though it was almost sunset, I headed across the Bascule Bridge to see a bit of the Waterfront (several locals mentioned that it is safe to walk the Waterfront after dark, which is not the case in a few other Cape Town neighborhoods). I started at the Time Out food market, which houses 17 food stalls from some of Cape Town’s best restaurants and chefs. I had a glass of Chenin Blanc from Culture Wines and Peruvian ceviche from The Melting Pot, both of which were excellent and surprisingly affordable (the exchange rate really works in your favor if you’re coming from the US or Europe). The wine, followed by a luxurious soak in my suite’s marble tub, rejuvenated me from the seemingly endless travel day, and I couldn’t wait to see more of the city. 

In the morning, I had coffee in the hotel’s main restaurant, Heirloom, a bright space centered around a large marble bar, which overlooks the harbor and was peacefully quiet at 9am—long after all the group tours in head-to-toe khaki had rushed out to make their safari camp flights. The restaurant staff were gracious and relaxed, and service was friendly and efficient (I thought it spoke volumes that the majority of staff were kept on during the renovation). Once the full group had arrived, we took a helicopter tour over the coast and Robben Island, where Nelson Madela and other political prisoners were incarcerated until the fall of apartheid. It’s now a museum and World Heritage Site that offers tours of the prison, including Nelson Mandela’s cell. (There are several helicopter tour companies based on the Waterfront, and you can book a 30-minute tour for about $200.)

The Cape Grace team suggested lunch at Tang, one of their favorite sushi spots, and the extremely fresh fish seemed like the perfect accompaniment to the water views we enjoyed outside the large windows. Full and happy, we explored more of the sprawling waterfront, which has more than 450 shops, 80 restaurants and more boats than you can possibly imagine. I loved the Watershed, a huge market housing local craft and design vendors—it’s definitely the place to snag unique souvenirs like ceramics, art, and for me, crocheted stuffed animals for all the kids in my life. If you like wildlife, seals are usually lounging on the pier behind the Two Oceans Aquarium (I found them so amusing to watch that I went back twice). And don’t miss the incredible sunset behind Table Mountain at the end of the day. 

Before leaving Cape Town proper, we drove up to Signal Hill, where the views of the ocean and Table Mountain are absolutely stunning. Our driver described several hikes he enjoys on the mountain and I added the Lion’s Head Trail to my list of must-dos on the next trip (right after a visit to Boulders Beach to see the penguin colony).

After checking out of Cape Grace, we made the 45-minute drive to Babylonstoren, a 500-acre property in the Franschhoek wine valley that includes vineyards, an epic garden, three restaurants, lodgings and shops. Our visit started with a garden tour led by master gardener Gungula Deutschlander, who has been with the property since its opening in 2007, and whose angelic demeanor, flower crown, and encyclopedic knowledge of each plant had us referring to her as the “garden fairy.” The last stop of the tour was the healing garden—one of the newest additions—in which all the flora and fauna are labeled with their medicinal function. At lunch in the glass-enclosed Greenhouse restaurant, we were able to choose cut plants and herbs from the healing garden to steep in our tea. Magical! 

Post-lunch, we hopped into golf carts en route to the Fynbos Cottages, a group of houses set back in the vineyards, just a few minutes drive from property’s hub (bicycles are also provided), where I clocked not just one but two pools available to guests. Though they aren’t original farmhouse buildings like many of the structures on site, one would be hard pressed to guess—the cottages share the same whitewashed Dutch exteriors and mix of traditional farmhouse features and contemporary design on the inside. Ours was situated around a courtyard with loungers and the aforementioned private pool, and with 5 bedrooms would be perfect for a multi-gen family or large group of friends (see my full description of the property here). 

We capped off the evening with an open-Jeep tour up the Simonsberg mountain, along the way passing olive plants, many varieties of grapes and the signature fynbos flowers. Eventually our driver stopped and led us up a dozen or so steep steps to enjoy some Babylonstoren Pinot Noir and watch the incredible sunset.

The next day, we toured the water buffalo farm (the property makes both water buffalo cheese and ice cream!), and even got to bottle-feed some of the youngest calves. After that cuteness overload, we finally had our cellar tour and wine tasting. All I will say is that I went home with more bottles of wine than I care to share (the staff know how to safely and efficiently pack the bottles for travel). The 230-acres of vineyards produces 13 different varieties of grapes, and visitors can book a tasting, whether they are staying on property or by purchasing a day pass (there is also the Franschhoek wine tram, which is a hop-on hop-off tour stopping at Babylonstoren and other wineries in the region). Buzzing from all the good wine, we shopped the Scented Room’s floor-to-ceiling displays of Babylonstoren bath and body products, all of which are compounded on site with botanicals from the garden. Down the path past the chicken coop and donkey paddock, the farm shop sells meat, cheese and produce from the property, as well as baked goods and tins of its own olive oil and tea.

I really wish I’d had more time to explore both the city and other parts of the Winelands—my must-do list for a return trip just kept getting longer (did I mention the penguins?). But while these destinations are often used as a soft landing en route to (or from) a safari—connecting to either South Africa’s Kruger National Park or Maun, Botswana—I found in the end that I didn’t miss the safari part at all, and felt like even despite a 15-hour flight, this pair of diverse places could easily justify a vacation in themselves.

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On a friend’s recommendation, we stayed at the new W Hotel. It had been many years since I’d stayed at a W, and I wasn’t sure if the vibe was really what we were looking for. But it was amazing—to relaunch the brand into the 5-star universe, W acquired, gutted, and redesigned Budapest’s Drechsler Palace, a grand neo-renaissance building that sits across the street from the Hungarian State Opera House, home of the Hungarian Ballet. The W Budapest is design-forward, colorful and contemporary interiors within an architecturally significant structure and spacious rooms. Since many visitors come to Budapest for the city’s thermal waters, W incorporated a bathhouse into the lower level, with a steam room, sauna, and spa—the best place to end a long day of exploring.

I tend to conduct a massive amount of restaurant research before I travel to avoid wasting a meal. That said, we were so tired at dinnertime on our first night after traveling that we ate at the W and found their Nightingale restaurant to be a great surprise. A pan-Asian spot anchored by the hotel’s bar, the food was excellent and creative, with small plates focusing on beef and fish. The ginger sea bass and the hamachi crudo were standouts (don’t skip a side of jalapeño pepper mashed potatoes!).

Each day, we decided to forgo hotel breakfast to walk around. Our first morning we chose to brunch at TwentySix, a restaurant with eastern Mediterranean fare. Like many restaurants in Budapest, from the outside TwentySix doesn’t look like much but a storefront inside another crumbling building. But when you walk through the portico and into a multi-story glass atrium dripping with plants, you know you have found something special. Despite the chill outside, the restaurant was cozy inside like a greenhouse, with a mix of foreigners working on brunch and locals grinding on laptops. For something more on-the-go, Freyja—A Croissant Story, is a quick spot for a light and flaky breakfast. (Beware: New York Café, known on TikTok for being one of Budapest’s best patisseries, is a tourist trap on the grandest scale.)

We had two magnificent lunches, one in Buda (the left side of the Danube) and one in Pest (the right side). Behind the castles of Buda is Deryne Bistro, a light-filled restaurant with a big bar and street-side seating. Deryne serves seasonal Hungarian dishes with a contemporary twist like schnitzel, stuffed cabbage, and duck confit. The schnitzel was one of the best I have ever tasted—it was also bigger than my head. On a return stay in Budapest, I would time my visit with brunch to take advantage of the sister bakery’s exquisite pastries. On the other side of the river, in the city’s Jewish quarter, is Dobrumba, a small and unassuming neighborhood restaurant serving Israeli/Mediterranean cuisine. One comes across a lot of falafel and hummus in Budapest, and Dobrumba has the best (do not be fooled by what you hear about Mazel Tov, a restaurant with a similar menu—the line is long, and the food is meh (yes, we ate there).

For traditional Hungarian food, we had an excellent dinner at Tati Farm to Table, a short walk from W in Pest. The menu, heavily focused on meat (as is the Hungarian diet), is a fresh twist on regional recipes that have been around for generations, such as rustic cottage cheese noodles (lighter than pasta!), beef cheek goulash, and chicken paprikash (lots of paprika on the menu in this part of the world). Tati is a wonderful place to experiment with local Hungarian wines—the list is deep, and they are skilled at pairing. Ghetto Gulyás is a hidden gem in the Jewish Quarter, just down the street from the synagogue. A cozy neighborhood spot, Ghetto Gulyás is where you end up sitting at the bar on a chilly evening. Known for hearty goulash, roasted bone marrow, and beef tartare, do not show up without an appetite for rich food, and do not leave without sampling the homemade cheese curd dumplings for dessert. Watch out for the surprisingly low bar stools—the height puts the rim of the soup bowl closer to your mouth! Lastly, we had a beautiful meal at Babel, one of Budapest’s few restaurants with a Michelin star, where the Swedish-born chef turns out an 8- or 12-course menu of small-size Austro-Hungarian dishes using regional ingredients like smoked eel, venison, potato, and kohlrabi. If you have made it this far, do not hold back when offered the signature casino egg with sturgeon caviar—it was the best thing we ate all night.

Budapest is known for its “Ruin Bars,” low-priced bars and dance clubs that have sprung up in dilapidated buildings in different quarters of the city. The largest and most famous is Szimpla Kert, a sprawling space that is more than just a bar—it hosts mixed media events, pop-up art exhibitions, and on Sunday turns into a farmers’ market. We sadly were not able to stay up late enough for the nightlife, as we had to leave early on Sunday.

The best way to experience Budapest’s abundant cultural sites (and the city) is on foot. The late October air was crisp, and the city was not crowded—I highly recommend visiting this time of year. We began our first day on the Buda side of the river with a trip to the Gellért Baths. Among the many thermal bath houses in Budapest, Gellért is the best because of its beautiful architecture and the fact that it draws both locals and visitors. In addition to thermal pools of various temperatures, Gellért also has a large indoor pool pavilion for lap swimming (bring a swim cap, they are required!). Arrive first thing in the morning and, as we did, you will have the place to yourself. If you have extra time in the city and want to experience another public bath, Szechenyi Thermal Bath is a larger, primarily outdoor complex on the Pest side of the river. Szechenyi is touristy and draws the 20-something hostel crowd but is an experience in and of itself. Go in the afternoon when people-watching is at its best. The blue pools packed with bodies are a remarkable sight against the backdrop of bright ocher-hued buildings.

Post soak at Gellért, stroll through Buda to lunch at Deryne, then hike up and over the hill to take in the views of the city from the Fisherman’s Bastion and The Church of our Lady of Buda Castle. A short stroll down river brings you to the Castle and its museums housing Hungarian art collections. Because these are all historical and cultural sights, be prepared for crowds and time your visit accordingly.

On the right bank of the Danube, Pest is about exploring the heart of the city. Visit St. Stephen’s Basilica and the Parliament Buildings. Walk through the Jewish quarter, spending time at the Dohany Street Synagogue (the largest in the world), Metropolitan Ervin Szabo Library (bring your book or laptop and take a moment in the elegant restored fourth floor palace apartment), and Rakoczi Market Hall, a beautiful old indoor market that sadly doesn’t appear to be thriving as it once did. In between, always look up—take in the architecture, the people, the traffic, and the smell of hotdogs being cooked on the street (these are not New York style wieners!). Across from the W is the Hungarian Opera House, which can only be visited by joining a tour or buying tickets to a performance—plan accordingly. Finally, the city on the Danube is best viewed on a sunset walk along the river when the lights of the Parliament buildings shine brightly and the bridges swell with evening strollers.

If time allows, spend a couple of hours walking through the parks of Margaret Island. Reminiscent of New York’s Central Park, Margaret Island has beautiful paths that take you along the water and through the trees. There is also a bathhouse, places to grab a quick bite, and a lovely Japanese garden.

While I loved our three days in Budapest, I’m already looking forward to a return trip to really dig in and tap into the layers of the city that make the heart of Budapest beat.

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There’s always such a sense of community around traveling for a specific interest—from art at TEFAF in Maastricht to antiques in Brimfield to the annual Concours d’Elegance in Pebble Beach. The common ground you share with anyone can set you off on the fast lane to friendship—or, at the very least, a solid martini rec. And I definitely got a few of those while I was in Newport for the Audrain Newport Concours. Lucky for me, I was invited by A. Lange & Söhne, one of my favorite watch brands, to this car show, which is such a nice size—compared to some of the big ones, it’s human scale. For the unfamiliar, A. Lange & Söhne is a small German atelier that makes a very limited number of watches completely crafted by hand. Their watches are works of art and, in many ways, they’re like the vintage cars at the show: rare, meticulous and built to be admired. Their niche sensibility is something I’ve always appreciated, and it’s not unlike the focus of my magazine, WM Brown, on select, specialized passions. 

Seeing daily drivers and museum-quality vintage cars up-close is always a highlight, but it’s the whole spectacle—walking around the streets of Newport where these beauties are parked, meeting fellow enthusiasts, drinking icy German beers with the A. Lange & Söhne crew—that helps me understand why people come from near and far for these shows. For me, it’s a throwback to some of my fondest memories—weekends spent in Upstate New York with my dad, checking out small fairground shows near us—and a reminder that a car is never just a car (as I wrote in my book A Man & His Car)! At these events, cars are just the shared passion that ends up being a shortcut to connecting with strangers who quickly become friends. 

Since I was only in Newport for a short trip, I relied on some of those new friends (and old ones!) for help putting this list together. With that, here are my personal discoveries, plus everyone’s perennial favorites, and a few places that were recommended to me by some of the like-minded characters I met throughout my short stay. I can’t wait to go back for longer next time and try the off-menu cocktails at the Macallan room inside The Vanderbilt, or the “Snowball in Hell” that Zach Weiss raves about at Clarke Cooke house. 

Hotels + Stays

I stayed at The Chanler, a historic mansion with rooms that are each inspired by different designs of the past—English Tudor, Greek Revival, French Provincial, etc. It’s in a great location, just steps from the Cliff Walk. 

Zach liked the Gardiner House, which is right on the wharves with great views of the harbor. 

And WM Brown contributor John Munson checked into The Vanderbilt earlier this year to scope out the new Macallan Reserve Room for us. The red-lacquered bar has plenty of bells and whistles, but John says don’t sleep on the Vanderbilt martini, their take on a vesper that’s always prepared tableside. 

If you want more seclusion, Castle Hill Inn has private cottages that were a favorite hideaway of Grace Kelly’s. 

Food + Drinks

Clarke Cooke House – Everyone’s favorite restaurant and watering hole on Bannister’s wharf. I had a perfectly steamed bright-red lobster.

Annie’s – A real-deal diner next to the Tennis Hall of Fame. They serve breakfast all day, and as a bonus, it’s BYOB. 

La Forge Casino Restaurant – Right next to Annie’s, I thought this old-school spot looked cool in passing, so I bookmarked it for next time. If you go, let me know what you think!

Empire – For a solid cup of coffee on your morning walk. 

Flo’s Clam Shack – Famous for… you guessed it. 

Castle Hill Inn – Go for drinks on the lawn, not in the dining room. 

White Horse Tavern – America’s oldest tavern, they’ve clearly been doing something right for the last 350 years.

The Black Pearl – Aside from Clarke Cooke House, this was one of the other highly recommended places to eat. Apparently their chowder—New England style—is spectacular. 

Bar Cino – Roman-style pizza (that comes with scissors!) and fantastic aperitivo cocktails in a beautiful setting with old-school caricatures on the walls. 

Shopping, Outdoors + Culture

Royal Male – Small, eccentric men’s store in a beautiful historic building, specializing in English country dress: a lot of Barbours and Belstaffs, old-school soaps and colognes, and accessories.  Zach prefers the location up the street to the one right on the wharf.  

Wald & Sea – Yolanda likes this nautical homewares store that is Newport meets Newport Beach in a very Nancy Meyers way. 

Zach says you should definitely do a sailboat ride—there are lots of service providers, but the America’s Cup team is the best and least touristy.

The Cliff Walk – A great running/walking route along the water to sweat out any of the prior nights overindulgences, and is conveniently right next to the Chanler, where I stayed. 

Newport Mansions – These Gilded Age mansions are really unbelievable. Stepping inside The Breakers, the Vanderbilt family’s “summer cottage” is a completely transporting experience.

Audrain Auto Museum – If you’re not in town during the Concours and still want to dive into Newport’s rich motoring history, the Audrain museum feels more like an art museum than a car showroom. 

International Tennis Hall of Fame – Perfectly maintained grass courts and starched whites, it’s tennis at its best. 

New York Yacht Club – If you can’t angle for an invite to this historic club, they do tours of the exterior for the public a few times a month.

Redwood Library– America’s first library is also part-museum, and has an exhibit of Slim Aarons’ New England/Newport photos on through December 15th. 

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Last week we took a couple of days to go see our friend, Corto Baccheschi Berti, who lives in Maremma, the western part of Tuscany. It’s a huge region—around 5,000 square kilometers—which basically goes from the Tyrrhenian Sea to the base of the Apennine Mountains. We’d met Corso several years back, when we visited his family’s lovely hotel, Castello di Vicarello, and he and Matt discovered a shared love of foraging and hunting. On this trip, he suggested we check out the relatively new Locanda Fontelupa, which his friend opened a couple of years ago. We rented a car at Termini train station in Rome, drove about 2 hours north, and in no time were driving up the cypress-lined dirt road to Fontelupa. Otto, a young Langotto dog, greeted us warmly, quickly followed by Giuska, who runs the 5-room property, which is a beautiful family project. (I go in depth on my stay here in this Guest Book.) Two years ago, Giuska, her brother Silvio, their mother, and Silvio’s wife opened Fontelupa, and it’s truly a dreamy place to stay—stylistically, philosophically, and in such a rich yet untouristed area. 

On our first night, we met up with Corso in the town of Campagnatico, a 20-minute drive through idyllic rolling hills dotted with cypress trees—the Under the Tuscan Sun visual that we are all suckers for. The big difference is that this area just doesn’t have the tourists. I’d been in the Pienza area several weeks prior, for the first time in a decade, and was shocked at how overrun it was. The last thing I want is to arrive in a small village, have to park in an overflow parking lot, then walk past idling buses only to enter the walled town and immediately be greeted by tourist shops selling limoncello, lavender sachets, magnets and t-shirts. To be 45 minutes away in towns that barely have a store, and just one or two restaurants that are filled with locals—that is the Italy I want to see. (I’ve said it before and I’ll keep on saying it—go to the towns you’ve never heard of! You’ll experience the real Italy.) 

The next day, we met up in Civitella Marittima, a small hill town with incredible views, and had one of the most delicious pastas of my life (a pici with leeks, mushrooms and sausage) at Locanda del Cassero. In the afternoon, Giuska brought me to Roselle, the ancient Etruscan city/archeological park, only 15 minutes from Fontelupa. There was just one other person in the entire place. It was mind-blowing on several levels—how well preserved it was, that I’d never heard of it, and that nobody was there—and it’s literally just off the E80 highway. 

On our last day in Maremma, we drove through Paganico, the charming walled town that’s close to Corso’s home. It’s a working town, where you buy a lovely basket at a hardware store, not a tourist shop—and it really supplies the people who live and work there. Corso had invited us over for a lunchtime feast, along with his next-door neighbors, who also happen to be my friends (and Yolo contributors): Rudston, founder of the Italy walking trip outfit Maremma Safari Club, and his wife, Helene.

It was an all-day affair, and we left at 5pm to head to Porto Ercole and the Hotel Il Pellicano, where we were meeting with our friend and owner, Marie-Louise Sciò, then spending the night. It’s hard to believe that from this very rural part of Tuscany, we could reach the Pelli within an hour and 10 minutes. We had a swim and shower, followed by drinks with our favorite bartender, the most lovable Federico, and a great dinner overlooking the sea. 

The next morning, after a walk into the hills above the hotel, we headed towards Rome, but I insisted that we stop in Santa Severa at this fish restaurant, L’Isola del Pescatore, that I’d always wanted to visit. I’d heard such great things about it and seen photos of the beach it was on, with this epic castle just touching the sea. The approach is nothing fancy—a scrappy parking lot, and kids in swimsuits ordering their panini or gelato at the walk-up counter. But luckily I’d called an hour before and made a booking, because it was totally packed, filled with long tables of families, small tables of romantic couples… all locals. The food was incredible—we had a fritto misto, which was so delicate, and shared a pasta with swordfish and wild fennel pollen. We really wanted to try their pasta specialty, which is with mussels and some pecorino on top. (Yes, they believe that seafood pasta can coexist with cheese!) And their wine list was so impressive—an entire page just devoted to Alto Adige. It was certainly not the beach shack that it looked like from the approach. Afterwards, we took a walk on the beach down to the castle, which also happens to be a 1-star hostel, with in-room bathrooms. Costa Meno for sure! The location certainly doesn’t get any better, and you have a fantastic restaurant right there. 

There’s a whole lot more to discuss on the Roman Coast—so many forgotten beach towns with excellent beach club restaurants, many from the 1930s. I’ll definitely be revisiting this topic soon! But for now, if you’re looking for an easy seaside escape, check out L’Isola del Pescatore. You can drive here in 45 minutes from Rome, or take a train, rent a beach chair from them, and have the best lunch of your life.

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We landed mid-afternoon in Olbia, on the northeast coast, and rented a car from AM Service (thank you to Roberto for the hot tip—highly recommend this local company—we walked right up to the counter, whereas Avis’s line was 20 deep and Sixt was 3x the price with no cars left!). We headed south for a couple of hours to Su Gologone, an “experience hotel” in the wild and mountainous region of Barbagia. I’m not going to go into every detail of this place, because I don’t want to spoil the surprise. Let’s just say that if you’re someone who is very into food, love a family-owned property (opened in 1967, third generation, run by women!) that is very dal cuore (from the heart), put this high on your list.

 The area is so rich—when you ask locals where they’re from, they tell you the name of their village, and each village on the island has its own traditions and dialect. I felt like we barely scratched the surface during our short stay. On our one full day, we walked 10 minutes down the road to the Su Gologone spring, a mystery that has attracted divers for decades who want to reach its depths (the latest dive came in at 135 meters), and whose limestone caves supply the hotel with all its water. I was determined to find a fede sarda (Sardinian engagement ring), so next we headed to Dorgali, a town about 20 minutes away that has a number of shops, some with these beautiful handmade rings, and others with traditional woven textiles. (Read about my hunt and the ring I finally settled on here!) 

We had to make it back in time for lunch so we could try the fish that the very enthusiastic waitress at the bar-restaurant had urged us to try, but I wanted to take a quick detour to the sea, since those signs to Cala Gonone were calling me. It was literally a beach driveby, which I justify as research for the next trip, but we made it back in time for an epic lunch (fregola with mixed seafood, a Sardinian pasta that’s similar to pastini, and a pesto bocciu, which is like cavatelli). Afterwards, we walked through the Bottega dell’Arte, the gallery where artist/owner Giovanna creates and sells her unique pieces, then their massive gardens that supply the restaurants. We were about to set off on an epic mountain sunset hike, but the weather gods didn’t cooperate. Nevermind—now we know how much we missed, namely visiting towns like Oliena, Nuoro (for the textile museum), and Orgosolo, and we can’t wait to come back to see Giovanna, and another fireside meal of the best pork of our life. 

From the mountains, we headed north to the Costa Smeralda. I have to be honest, even after all of my years of working in travel magazines, I really had no visual reference for it. Sure, I had seen plenty of images from the ‘70s of Marisa Berenson decked out in Pucci against the bright Sardinian backdrop, but nothing that gave me a true sense of it. I had imagined it as a built-up, glitzy, not-my-vibe kind of place, with no idea that the Aga Khan, who in the early ‘60s transformed this rugged coastline into a holiday village for the jet-set, had from the start envisioned carefully integrating his development into the environment, with complete respect for nature. It’s a rare combination—especially then—and still today, when viewed from the road or sea, most of the structures are seamlessly built into the landscape. I also couldn’t get over how uncrowded the area was—granted, we were traveling in mid-September, which for most of the Mediterranean isn’t the end of the season, but it is there. (Good to know for all of you who like to travel in June and early July: Sardinia’s high season is mid-July to late August; avoid that and you won’t have to deal with traffic, overbooked restaurants, and billionaire behavior.) 

We were staying at the Romazzino, which was built in the ‘60s and came under the Belmond umbrella this year. We loved its architecture, old-school details and vibe. We got there just in time for an excellent lunch at their seafront restaurant, Èntu e Mari, and were joined by Roberto and Anna, who decided at the last minute to come from Rome for the weekend. We ordered an incredible local vermentino to enjoy with our fritto misto and simple/perfect pasta aglio olio and peperoncino, which called for a big post-lunch nap on a lounger. 

Early the next morning, our friends Roberto and Anna brought us to the marina, where we rented a boat and headed to Mortorio, a small uninhabited island about 15 minutes away. As we neared it, Roberto got so excited—with no other boats there, we had it to ourselves, a super rare situation. The water was as gorgeous as everyone who is a Sardinia fan had always told me—it went from Caribbean blue near the shore to a turquoise I’ve only seen in Greece, plus it was so clean and full of fish. We were so lucky to have the sea to ourselves for an hour before other boats started to arrive, at which point we headed back to the port to get in our full day of exploring. 

Roberto brought us to J Beach, a very cool seaside restaurant and beach club with loungers, where we had one of the best meals of the trip—another local vermentino, local lobster with homemade pasta, followed by another post-lunch seaside nap. (Consistency is important!) From there, we ventured north—Roberto and Anna were determined that we should see as much of the north of the island as possible. We stopped at Capo Testa, the northernmost point, from which you can see Corsica and the chalky cliffs of Bonifacio, and hiked around its fantastic rock formations. Then we drove to have cocktail hour in the town of Porto Rafael, a place with an incredible origin story (look it up!) that makes many locals act like they’re looking at a puppy when they’re talking about it. Matt said it reminded him of Montecito, and he didn’t like the real estate agent offices that took over most of the town square, but I fell for its charm. 

On our last morning, we hiked the Pevero Trail just a couple minutes’ walk from the Romazzino, which paralleled the sea. We billy-goated down to some sweet little beaches without a soul around, and planned our return trip. It’s only a 40-minute flight from Rome, after all. See you there in May or June, for a solid week at least! 

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Islanders recognize the “Island” in fellow islanders. It’s an unspoken contract, and it holds true no matter how at odds two people’s islands may be. It doesn’t matter if you’re from Maui, Syros, or Lombok. You could even be from Manhattan… I’ll see the Island in you. And that is exactly how I felt the first time I met locals of the elusive French island: Porquerolles.

Every summer for the past six summers, we board the ferry at La Tour Fondue in Hyères, and almost always we run into a familiar face, also headed for Porquerolles. As we dock at the port (a postcard in itself with its rows of pointu wooden fishing boats bobbing against a backdrop of hilly pine and eucalyptus forests), there is always a moment when I dread having to lug our suitcases and child through the crowds of daytrippers. Almost always (again!), we manage to hitch a ride in the back of a Citroën Méhari. The benefits of being a location-on-repeat traveler.

Funny that Porquerolles is plural. In a way, there are many Porquerolles. There is the obvious, attainable one, crawling with scorched pink Duane Hanson tourists, slurping bubblegum Coco Frio ice-cream and trekking in neon Speedos with CamelBaks. More recently and somewhat less attainable are the cliques of collectors and curators and art dealers, clad in head-to-toe black, who descend upon the island like a flock of crows to Villa Carmignac, a farm (the one you see in Godard’s Pierrot le Fou) turned eye-catching, futuristic subterranean art museum. And then, finally, there’s the more elusive Porquerolles, that which is rustic, simple, and for the American in me, très très cool.

Topless sunbathing at Les Gorges du Loup. Hidden coves and bays that can only be reached by sea. Traditional earthy pink homes with blue shutters suffocating under the weight of the rebellious pink bougainvillea. Lunches that could only be described as lazy. Dinners with the great-granddaughter of the explorer François-Joseph Fournier, who bought the island for his wife Sylvia in 1912. He made his fortune in gold mines in Mexico, which explains the mission-style church on Place d’Armes, the town square. Bottles of the family’s Domaine de l’Ile rosé (since purchased by Chanel in 2019). Walking home from an intimate wedding at La Plage d’Argent, dolled up but barefoot and drunk on more wine and the smell of the eucalyptus trees, mimosa trees, stone pines and cypresses—all planted by Fournier. Golden tans. Cicadas. The warm night air. A game of pétanque on the place du village. Pastis in the shade alongside the old men. Perrier and cigarettes seated at the red tables of the bar, Côté Port.

This isn’t the Mediterranean of nearby Saint-Tropez.

While Porquerolles has been state-protected since the ‘70s as part of the Parc National de Port-Cros, and the authorities cap the number of daily visitors to 6,000 during peak summer, one of the tricks I’ve learned over the years is to travel in the shoulder season. End of May/ Early June marks the first days of summer. The water may be a few degrees cooler, but the island, in full bloom, is a beauty. My favorite months are the end of September/October—l’été Indien—when the beaches have been deserted (try La Plage d’Argent and La Plage de Notre Dame), the water is still warm from the hot summer days, and everyone is tanned and relaxed. That is the time for early morning hikes and sunset runs and unselfconscious naked dips at the secret cove (which I can’t disclose, God forbid I don’t get invited back…).

If you can only make it to the island during summer, you will want to stay a few days, because only when the last ferry departs does the island reveal itself. Book one of only six rooms at Le Porquerollais, a tiny hotel and restaurant (the best in town) centrally located on the town square. Breakfast (included) is had along with the morning papers on the sidewalk terrace under the fringed parasols, or indoors where the decor is reminiscent of an old wooden sailboat. Regardless of whether you are staying here or not, dinner at Le Porquerollais is non-negotiable.

If you are willing to splurge, Le Mas du Langoustier is the island’s grand dame hotel. Opened in 1934 by Sylvia Fournier herself, the Provence-style batisse is set amidst a gorgeous 50-acre estate overlooking Baie du Langoustier. Within the forest are tennis courts and a pool. Nearby are two beaches—one white, one black (referred to as simply plage blanche/plage noir)—that make up two sides of the peninsula. The hotel channels an old-fashioned Riviera vibe and, with its erratic Wi-Fi, feels lost in time. La Pinède, open to outsiders for lunch, serves dishes such as grilled watermelon, plates of ripe tomatoes drenched in olive oil, lobster, and even a frozen pastis parfait.

Speaking of lobster, if you’re in a rental and planning on cooking, head to the port and ask for Pierrot the fisherman. When he hasn’t had a little too much pastis the day before, he returns to shore with dorado, scorpion fish, St Pierre, seabass, ray, and lobster. For seasonal local produce, Les Jardins de Porquerolles, the farmers’ market, is open on Tuesdays.

In June is the Porquerolles’ Classic, a 4-day regatta gathering fifty or so classic sailboats – some of the Mediterranean’s most beautiful. If you hang around the port long enough, someone might just offer you a ride to Italy…. The Porquerolles Yacht Club also hosts the Porquerolles’ Cup, its oldest and most famous race on Whit Sunday. The race consists of a tour of the island. The caveat: each skipper must choose the direction they’ll sail in the day before. The race starts on the beach with all crew members sitting on the sand. When the gunshot is fired, they must swim to their boats anchored several hundred meters away. The day ends with a dance on Place d’Armes with the sailors, locals, and visitors.

My favorite day is always a boat day (it must be an island thing). We head out to the neighboring island of Port-Cros arriving just in time for lunch at L’Anse, some of the best seafood this side of the Mediterranean, and we don’t move from our chairs facing the va-et-viens of the port until late afternoon. There are taxi-boats between the two islands. If you can, stay the night at Le Manoir, an 1830s hunting estate turned hotel in the 1920s. The style, Provençal meets colonial, is exquisite. And yes, a bell announces mealtimes at the equally fabulous restaurant overlooking the water.

Seated in the shade of the century-old palm trees of Le Manoir, I am reminded of the legend of these islands. It goes something like this: A certain Prince Olbianus had four impossibly beautiful daughters. While they were out swimming, pirates approached them. Their father begged for mercy, and the gods obliged, turning them into stone. They became the three islands (Porquerolles, Port-Cros, and Ile du Levant), and the fourth, her arms stretched out toward her father, the Giens peninsula.

Summer after summer, France’s seductive temptress, Porquerolles with its silent ‘s’, calls your name. And you know better than not to respond to the call of the wild.

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I first visited Corsica when I was 16. That was in 2003, and I was traveling alone with my mom as my parents had just separated. I cherish the memory of our first summer holiday together, because we decided to do something unusual: stay in France, but not on the continent. We situated ourselves in the northwest part of the island, the region of Balagne, at a property called La Villa. My memory of the place, hidden away as it was in a garden on the heights of Calvi, is a sensory one—the smell of maquis, or dense scrub, warmed by the late July sun. This connection led me to return the following year, again with my mother, and then during my studies with a Corsican friend from Ajaccio. I still remember our long dinners on the beach of Le Pain de Sucre or along the Port, followed by some late nights at Tao, a famous piano bar in the Genoese Citadel.

It was later that I discovered the southern reaches of the island and the Porto-Vecchio region (accessible from Figari airport via regular flights from Paris, Nice and Marseille). My first inkling of it was through some of its iconic hotels during a stint with the Parisian travel agency, Voyageurs du Monde. One of my tasks was to sort all the hotel brochures—I browsed leaflets of various sumptuous places until my eyes landed on a photo of a pontoon with a bicycle under a moonlit sky. I didn’t think such exotic places could exist so close to Paris—I even remember the rooms were named after flowers (iris, hibiscus). I promised myself I’d get there one day.

Whereas the north of Corsica is characterized by a rugged landscape, with numerous hotels on high ground overlooking a sublime panorama of the coast, the south feels like paradise on earth, with the mountains backing a succession of fine sandy beaches. The south is also so close to Sardinia that its Italian influences are deeply felt—a symbiosis between two cultures that is reflected in local flavors and pastimes: charm and understated elegance, simplicity, uniqueness…not to mention a real beach culture.

Southeast Corsica is also the location of the park of Cala Rossa, and the Grand Hotel of the same name. Here, the pine trees lean into a sea shaded in ultramarine blue and emerald green. Dating to the 1960s, it’s a historic family home and one of the Great Corsican Maisons that has been transformed into a charming and luxurious lodging. 

In 2016, I finally laid eyes on the hotel I’d fallen for all those years before from its photo. I invited my husband-to-be for dinner while we were staying at the newly opened La Plage Casadelmar. The old-school atmosphere appealed to me immediately: the candles, the antique furniture, the floral arrangements, the large key cubby at reception, the grand, tree-lined terrace of the restaurant La Pinède. The guests were elegant and cosmopolitan—although predominantly French, there were a few Italian families and two British couples—the former owing perhaps to geographic proximity, and the latter to explore Napoleon’s birthplace.

I stayed for the first time in 2019, for a wedding. I could hardly convince myself to leave the hotel to get to the open-air church of Saint Cyprien as the place holds you captive with its beauty. I have since returned twice, in 2022 and 2023, and watched it evolve under new direction by the Canarelli sisters, daughters of the hotelier Toussaint Canarelli, the force behind the original property. They have shifted towards a more modern style of hospitality—the furniture is lighter, the palette muted—while respecting Corsican traditions and values. They have upheld their father’s legacy, including his stance on no outdoor swimming pool. After all, the experience is about the exceptionally fine, white sand at the end of a centuries-old pine forest—a private cove whose beauty could be compared favorably to the beaches of the Seychelles, with clear water flanked by rocks in unique formations and colored the same red that gives the hotel its name.

It is all discretion, charm, and voluptuousness: an incredible spa with a natural skincare line developed by the female proprietors; an aromatic vegetable garden that supplies the kitchen; a deep wine cave and cocktails with the scents and flavors of the maquis.

In an age of rapid change, it’s reassuring that a degree of old-fashioned elegance remains. Although jackets are no longer compulsory for men, shorts are still forbidden after 19:30 in the hotel’s public areas, which is the only way to enjoy the cuisine of chef Pascal Cayeux, who has overseen the menu of the Grand Hôtel for 25+ years. It’s a small hotel with a big soul, a worthy destination especially in spring and autumn, which perpetuates the traditions of an untouched land.

Although it’s hard to tear oneself away from the hotel’s lush grounds, here are some addresses in the area I’ve come to know and love: 

Lunch or aperitif by the water

La Plage Casadelmar – A luxury boutique hotel with direct access to the beach, they are the sister property of the main Casadelmar. Their grill and bar are worth a visit for the sea view alone.

Le Cabanon Bleu – A simple yet iconic spot for those in the know. Great people watching.

Paillottes – The Corsican name for seasonal beach hut restaurants with sun loungers for rent. A good one is at Le Tiki Chez Marco, and most hotels (not Cala Rossa) offer paillotte services: La Plage Casadelmar, Le Cabanon Bleu, and a tad more remote, U Capu Biancu.

Gourmet Restaurant – An aptly named two-Michelin star restaurant by Italian chef Fabio Bragagnolo inside the island’s leading hotel, Casadelmar.

Melia – The latest addition to the local culinary scene in Porto Vecchio, with an extensive list of cocktails.

Le Tiki Chez Marco – An iconic beach restaurant located on the bay of Saint Cyprien

Three unforgettable white sandy beaches

Palombaggia

Santa Lucia

Rondinara – Near the famous town and port of Bonifacio

Shopping in Porto-Vecchio

Luciani Optique – A unique selection of designer eyewear

Calarena – If you’re into Pucci prints, they have collections of swimwear, RTW, and accessories inspired by the Mediterranean.

Granite – For street-style fans, or to give your boyfriend a makeover with a certain je ne sais quoi.

Malinea – A discreet furniture boutique for all lovers of interior-exterior designs (they don’t have a website)

La Maison Sur I’île – An ideal place to pick up a souvenir, located opposite Malinea

100mL Parfumerie – They have a unique selection of niche fragrances and natural skincare with spf. The shop for all lovers of Frédéric Malle fragrances.

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