It’s not accidental that this small town feels like the Alps, and there is no more visible symbol of this than the Trapp Family Lodge. The Austrian inspired lodge and resort is operated by actual members of the Von Trapp family, whose story was told in the Sound of Music. The main lodge is right out of the Tyrol, with dark woods and balconies lined with bright red and white flower boxes. This theme is carried on by a number of other lodges (Northern Lights Lodge, Innsbruck Inn), and private residences around town.

While you will rarely encounter hikers in Lederhosen, there are outdoor activities of all kinds including miles of trails at the Trapp Lodge and Stowe Mountain Resort Touring Centers, Wiessner Woods and the Long Trail, all of which are free off season (and off-leash dog friendly). There is also a scenic greenway and paved bike path that winds lazily for five and a half miles from the village center, crisscrossing the road and river leading to Mount Mansfield past shops, restaurants and a pub or two. Make sure to stop at the Shed Brewery for a local brew on the patio overlooking the path…if you’re lucky they may have their Weizen beer on tap.

Alongside the pubs, Stowe is dotted with excellent chef-owned restaurants specializing in regional and seasonal fare, often using local ingredients. A few offer Austrian and German dishes, and the most authentic of these is an unassuming (and unadvertised) place called the Alpenhaus, where chatty owner André Noel will greet you, inquire as to whether you have a reservation, and regardless of your answer, lead you to an almost always empty dining room.

Despite the lack of crowds, the dinner menu is authentic and extensive, with everything made extremely well from the highest quality regional products. The dishes include a whole page of Schnitzels, potatoes in pancake, dumpling and soup forms, and quite a few vegetarian options, including one of my all time favorites, Kaesespaetzle, a decadent macaroni and cheese made with top notch New York Emmenthaler. Attached is the Vienna Tea Room serving lunch and decadent pastries that are seriously worthy of Stephensplatz.

The Trapp Lodge also offers an Austrian Tea Room with a variety of Wursts, baked goods and desserts, while their Dining Room provides a more formal setting with a few German inspired dishes including an excellent mushroom strudel in a fresh herb cream sauce with cranberries. In the center of the village, comprised of a couple blocks of storefronts and restaurants is a Swiss restaurant called the Swisspot offering all kinds of wonderful fondue and European dishes.

In all, Stowe offers beautiful alpine scenery, a plethora of outdoor activities no matter what time of year, and for those of us who are in love with Germania, an authentic experience like none other I have seen in the United States.

Despite the Costa del Sol’s reputation as a seaside playground for the rich and famous, visitors willing to go beyond the beach may find themselves surprised by how much the region has to offer. They run the gamut from outdoorsy to intellectual, from windsurfing all the way to wine tasting. Malaga’s coast offers an array of adventures to suit every palate, each one flavored with the Costa del Sol’s unique Andalusia-meets-Mediterranean charm.

For history-hungry travelers, Nerja Cave, located near the town of the same name, is a good place to start. In 1959, the first cavers to access this 5 km-long system discovered skeletal remains and tools dating back to the Paleolithic era. Visitors can tour the cave’s main chamber and look at some of the excavated artifacts. In addition, the cave, which supposedly possesses excellent acoustics, occasionally hosts classical music performances, though this practice is becoming less common due to conservation concerns.

If you’d rather be out in the fresh air, lace up your hiking boots and head to Sierra de las Nieves national park. The park, which lies in the mountainous hinterland about 18 kilometers north of the seaside resort town of Marbella, offers hiking and biking in over 200 square kilometers of slopes and virgin pine forest. The park is also famous for its many vertical caves, a few of which plunge to depths of over 1000 meters. Due to its higher altitude, the park does sometimes experience snowfall during the winter months, so check the weather before heading out and come prepared for the cold.

When it comes to watersports in the Costa del Sol, windsurfing is king. Spain’s southern coast is a veritable windsurfing Mecca; on any given day, dozens of sails dot the horizons at the Costa’s major beaches as groups of surfers skim and spin their way across the water. Equipment rental shops line most beaches, and most resorts have windsurfing clubs where beginners can pick up the basics in the relatively calm waters. More experienced surfers in search of a challenge can make the hour-and-a-half trek southwest to Tarifa, where aficionados from around the globe gather to try their skills on the strong winds and currents from the Strait of Gibraltar.

In addition to the sights of the region itself, the Costa del Sol is also convenient to some of the Iberian Peninsula’s most famous destinations. The city of Granada is a day trip away; beach-weary travelers can take a break from the sun and explore the Alhambra, the magnificent 14th century palace that once housed Granada’s Moorish rulers. On the off chance that visitors finish their tour with any time left to spare, a stroll around the maze-like cobblestone streets and open-air spice stalls of old Granada offers enough captivating sights and sounds to keep anyone occupied for days.

For a slightly different excursion, Gibraltar, a British overseas territory located at the edge of the Iberian peninsula, is about an hour and ten minutes’ drive from Marbella. The iconic Rock of Gibraltar, a peak that looms up from the center of the territory, offers Europe’s best view of the African continent as well as the chance to meet Gibraltar’s well-known Barbary ape population. Because Gibraltar is British territory, visitors need to bring their passports in order to enter.

Finding budget-friendly accommodations in the Costa del Sol can be a bit challenging, but it’s certainly possible. While top-tier resorts like Marbella’s are pricey beyond belief, less exorbitant resorts in towns such as Torremolinos sometimes offer fairly reasonable package deals. If that doesn’t work, try looking for accommodations a few kilometers inland; if you’re willing to stay a little further from the coast, you’ll have an easier time escaping the resorts’ high prices.

Alternatively, if you’re traveling with a group, it may actually be cheaper to rent a house, especially if you’re planning on staying in the area for a while. Because the Costa del Sol is such a popular destination, many travelers from other European countries buy second homes in the area, often renting them out when they’re not using them. Plan your trip well in advance and try to negotiate the rental price with the owners and you may well be able to score a bargain, a rare enough event on these shores.

Expecting to slowly sip a glass of wine or two over conversation of knitting, gardening, or perhaps if it got a little edgy, how so-and-so had stolen someone else’s goulash recipe and passed it off as their own, I settled in with a mild sense of dread.

Ruth, the dark, curly-haired, woman who sat opposite me at the table, held up the small, smooth, elongated white stone I had just given her to add to her rock garden and uttered a comment in German that elicited a laugh from the other elderly woman who sat around us. Not wanting to be left out on the humor and eager for approval of my gift, I asked for a translation.
“It looks like a penis!”
“Like a what!?!” I said, quite surprised.
“Like a little boy’s penis.”

I smiled and let out a chuckle mostly to help ease the awkwardness. As they laughed, someone poured me a drink, and then another, and then another. Soon, I was off to the wine stand to buy a few more bottles and staggered back to pour the next round.

The Weinbrunnenfest is held every year on the first weekend in July. It begins on Friday and runs every evening for four days. Unlike some of the larger wine festivals in the area, the one held in Gimbsheim is comparatively small and attended almost entirely by locals who gather together to enjoy music, dancing, food, and the variety of wines produced from the local vineyards.

The next morning, I slept in a bit to recover from the previous night out with the ladies. After finally getting up, I decided to go on a bike ride to take in the surrounding landscape and pass the time until the evening festivities were to begin. Riding down the narrow streets that cut through dense housing, I began to notice something. There is really nothing all that astounding about Gimbsheim.

There’s a butcher shop, a bakery, a couple of small pubs, but that’s about it. Having travelled around Europe quite a bit, I was used to seeing the postcard panoramas like St. Mark’s Square, Neuschwanstein Castle, and the Roman Coliseum. Gimbsheim’s only comparable site was a ten foot tall monument honoring the town’s veterans of World War One.

I kept riding on the road out of town and soon found myself perspiring to peddle up the paths along the ridge. The hillside was covered in grape vines lined in perfect rows like a striped shirt. Scattering rabbits as I rode along, I eventually stopped to rest and take in the scenery.

The Rheinhessen area, Germany largest wine growing region, is famous for its white wines. While the Mosul Valley is regarded as one of Germany’s most scenic wine regions, the hills surrounding Gimbsheim make up a charming scene overlooking the Rheine River and many small towns such as Oppenheim, which ascends the hillside and is crowned by a miniature cathedral, disproportionately large for the surrounding community.

As I prepared to make my ascent back toward Gimbsheim, I took in a long breath of grape scented air and watched a farmer mend one of the rows. I hopped on the bike and peddled back down.

That evening, as I made my way back to the Weinbrunnenfest, I thought about my time spent in this small town. I realized that I was quite taken by it, but why? Until that moment, the answer remained elusive.

As travelers, we often set out to far flung places in search of something different, new, and authentic. As I walked, I reminisced about my time in Paris and how I made the rounds to all the must-see tourist sites, trying to take pictures of the Eiffel Tower that didn’t include someone trying to sell me multicolored flashing key chains. Something didn’t feel quite right.

Looking back on it, it wasn’t that commercialism and mass-tourism had ruined any possible culturally real experience. I just hadn’t been looking in the right places. Buildings, monuments, and landscapes can be great stops in an interesting afternoon of sightseeing, but its people who make an experience real and authentic.

By the time I got to the festival area, night had fallen and the bright red, blue, green, and yellow lights strung up all around lit up the faces of those seated around tables or swaying around on the makeshift dance floor. There, in the same spot as the night before, were my geriatric drinking buddies.

The worry over a potentially dull night out that I had felt the night before was long gone. Hilde, round-faced with graying hair and glasses, greeted me as I walked up. Smiling, I replied,
“Guten Abend. Can I buy you a drink?

This quaint capital city reflects both the English speaking majority and the French speaking Québécois minority, divided by the Ottawa River separating the provinces of Ontario and Quebec. Punctuated by beautiful parks, stunning architecture, scenic river overlooks, and lively outdoor markets and cafes, Ottawa is relatively small and often overlooked, lying midway between the larger cities of Toronto and Montreal. While winter might be a challenge here, since it’s considered one the coldest capital cities in the world (with an average temperature of 41.9 degrees Fahrenheit), the spring and summer months are fantastic, perhaps made more so by the contrast.

The Canadian Tulip Festival began in 1953, several years after Princess Juliana of the Netherlands gave Ottawa 100,000 tulip bulbs to show appreciation for the city’s harboring of Holland’s exiled royal family during World War II. The eighteen day extravaganza each May has become the largest Tulip festival in the world, hosting hundreds of thousands of tourists viewing millions of tulips spread throughout the city. Many of the events are free, or can be accessed with an inexpensive pass including transportation between the venues on the “Tulip shuttle”. The event has grown in scope, and features musical concerts, competitions, and a formal Tulip ball including beautiful dresses made from flowers. Visiting in the beginning of the festival can be risky since the weather determines when the tulips bloom en masse, but the crowds increase as the weather gets warmer, so going early can often be a risk worth taking. Make sure to take in the lower key display at Commissioner’s Park, set in a beautiful suburb surrounding Dow’s Lake.

Unless you’re a horticulturist however, the amazing variety of colors and styles of tulips mostly provide a stunning backdrop to experience the rest of the things this city has to offer. The downtown area is about four square blocks and centered on the ByWard Market, featuring lots of indoor and outdoor vendors selling their wares, from crepes to cheese to hot sauces and pretty much else anything you can imagine. It’s surrounded by specialty shops, boutiques, cafés and restaurants, and cute little cobblestone alleys where you can sit and watch the world go by.

For people watching and an interesting menu, I especially recommend the Fox And Feather Pub, tucked down a picturesque pedestrian street. On a hot day, they had a refreshing melon bisque special, Leffe beer on tap, and they even welcomed our overheated canine companion providing ice water and lots of attention. There are plenty of other bars and clubs around which create a relatively subdued but fun nightlife. For those fans of Douglas Adams, one that sticks out is a club called Zaphod Beeblebrox that is known for live music and festive young crowds.

Despite the small area, downtown Ottawa (called Centretown) also reflects the melting pot of cultures with a variety of restaurants from high end cuisine to hip vegetarian joints, and choosing one may be a challenge. One of our favorite places we always go back to the Calendario Azteca restaurant, a very authentic journey through the cuisine of Mexico, including the rare Huitlacoche, a mushroom that grows on the corn cob, spiced and served in a crepe. There is also a Little Italy (and it’s really little), and we had a wonderful meal at Trattoria Café Italia which offers a large menu of traditional items including a number of vegetarian options. You can also snack your way through the market, and if you’re not from the area, don’t miss the bagels made Montreal style at Continental Bagel.

Besides being the provincial capital of Ontario, Ottawa serves as the national capital, and it has the official and parliamentary buildings to prove it. Most of them border Major’s Hill Park along the western bank of the Ottawa River, and they’re joined by cultural landmarks like the National Arts Centre, National Gallery, the Mint, and a War Memorial. Take a scenic walk across the Alexandra Bridge into Quebec and visit the Canadian Museum of Civilization in the Hull area, which includes an IMAX theatre. While this side of the city doesn’t have a lot of restaurants, there are a number of nice patisseries and coffee shops. The best place to stay if you can swing it is the Fairmont Chateau Laurier, which looks like a castle, and sits right on the river along with the other buildings on Parliament Hill, making it the perfect location to walk anywhere.

In all, Ottawa provides a compact, scenic and multicultural experience easily explored in a long weekend. Make it extra special by visiting in spring during the annual Tulip Festival, sure to impress the one you love.

“Transport?” queried a smiling young man on a sidewalk in Ubud, an artsy town in the south-eastern hills. It’s a frequent offer on the streets of nearly every town in Bali. Everyone with a car will offer you a ride for a small price. You may say “no thank you” seven times on Monkey Forest Road in Ubud. But what’s heart-warming is that you will always receive an enthusiastic “Welcome!” in response.

As one of Indonesia’s luxury destinations, Bali is a truly service-oriented society and economy. Away from the resorts on the coast, there is less commercial zeal and more genuine friendliness. Culturally, Bali differs from other Indonesian islands, and indeed is an exception in this predominantly Muslim country with its Hindu-Buddhist history. It is this history that shapes the Balinese approach to life and the Balinese landscape.

Exploring the surroundings of Ubud on bike is perhaps the best way to take in the beautiful landscape, with all its rice terraces, temples, villages and cackling roosters. I signed up for a daytrip with Arung from Bali Moon Group. We began with a morning stop at an eclectic orchard growing everything from mangosteen, papaya and peanuts to cacao, coffee beans and tea leaves. Arung also introduced us to salak, a fruit with a brown, snake-scaled skin that looks like a nut inside and tastes like mixture of apple and pear.

After an invigorating ginger tea we were driven up to the edge of Mount Batur. The mountain bikes were unloaded and we were ready to start off downhill back towards Ubud. Arung had assured us back in the office that it was “all downhill”, but some of us were taken aback by how steep downhill can be. And the road was just a rocky path. One of the English girls on the excursion already wanted to make use of the trailing van service that carried our backpacks, but was persuaded to stick with it since it would get easier.

Our reward, when it began to level out, was a school full of excited children running towards the road to greet us. Six and seven year old boys were exploding with excitement, seemingly overwhelmed by such an unexpected visit from strangers. “Hallo! Hallo!” they squealed, vying to make eye contact with any one of the cyclists and jumping for high-fives. Wide-eyed awe and giggles rippled through the crowd as our group responded to their eagerness. It felt like the Tour de France. A few boys ran with the bikes until they were out-paced or came to the end of the village.

We cycled along rice paddies, many of them flocked by ducks feeding on leftover grains. In the rolling countryside I could hear the lovely sound of bamboo music and wind chimes everywhere. We passed through several more villages, all laid out on a sloping north-south axis and flanked by walled enclosures that are the typical Balinese. Each had an elaborately carved gateway and immediately behind it a wall, the aling-aling, to keep floating evil spirits from sweeping in through the open gateway.

In one village an old man on a moped scooted up beside me to ride tandem and indulge in conversation. His smile was wide, his questions direct. “Where you from? Where you stay? Where you go?” He exudes a pride in managing dialogue with a foreigner and brushes off the cajoling of youngsters. As we neared the open countryside he veered off back into his village and signalled his final sentence with a wave,”The Balinese people welcome you. Good time.”

Everyone, just everyone, genuinely wants to have contact and wish you well. When we came to the end of our cycle we were invited into a family home. The residential compound had sleeping pavilions for extended family members, a fountain in the middle, a temple and a low table for us to share dinner. A typical Indonesian meal is a selection of hot and cold plates, with spicy meats, peanut sauces and sautéed vegetables. Everyone was exhausted from the combination of heat and pedalling, and completely ready to feast on the buffet.

When our host came to collect our finished plates, she asked simply “Happiness?”