Colonial Melt

Founded in 1533 by the Spaniard Pedro de Heredia, Cartagena in Colombia has always attracted many throughout its history. In its early days, the draw was the gold found in Zenú (or Sinú) tombs, a local tribe who customarily buried the dead with their possessions. The Spanish plundered it, but they were not alone; pirates soon found out about it, and Cartagena became a prime target. In response, the Spanish built stone fortresses and massive walls around the city, some 65-feet (20 m) thick, turning Cartagena into one of the most protected cities in South America. Most of these fortifications still stand today.

Nowadays, the biggest attraction in Cartagena is its colonial architecture, one of the best preserved in the world. The survival of so many structures, some dating back to the 16th century, is the result of a tragedy: in 1552, a fire turned the village to ashes (most of the buildings at the time were made of wood) and since then, only stone, brick and tile are allowed as building materials. Fortunes amassed with all the trade going through Cartagena (of goods and slaves) enabled the construction of stunning homes and mansions. The typical house has a colorful exterior, making all of Cartagena's historic streets very lively. Balconies on the second floor usually nest plants and cascading flowers while an inner courtyard, usually filled with plants, provide plenty of natural light and a respite from the heat.

And hot it is in Cartagena: the average temperature is 81ºF (27ºC). However, humidity tends to be above 75% so it usually feels like more like 95ºF (35ºC). You will sweat in buckets, and you'll also understand why siesta is a must in some places. And that's arguably another plus in Cartagena...the heat will force you to slow down, to go for a siesta or a swim mid-afternoon, or seek refuge in a café or ice cream parlor, slowly savoring a moist tres leches (three milk) cake, my favorite, or an exotic ice cream flavor...like níspero, a fruit I had never heard of but one of the best I've ever tasted. And among the vibrant beauty of the city, you'll rediscover how wonderful it is to slow down and not do much.

Blown Away

It’s a strange feeling going out around midnight and needing sunglasses to protect your eyes from the sunrays. Likewise, it’s weird waking up at 9 am and seeing it’s still pitch black outside. This is Iceland, land of contrasts, a place that challenges you but makes it extremely rewarding in the end. I never complained about the 24-hour summer daylight – it was amazingly energizing. And the late winter sunrise wasn’t bad at all…I stayed in bed until very late, something I hadn’t done in months.

But catching up on my sleep wasn’t the reason for going to Iceland in winter. One major draw were the northern lights. They are the result of solar particles colliding with the earth’s atmospheric gases, and the 2012-2013 season is expected to be very good due to heightened solar activity. Seen in high latitudes (usually from 65 to 72 degrees), they are best viewed on cloudless skies with little light, and the colder, the better. And cold it was the night I saw them, with a wind chill of 10ºF (-12ºC). Yes, it was painful, but there’s something mesmerizing about those green lights dancing through the sky that I (almost) forgot how gelid it was. It’s bearable, as long as there is no wind. And there's a plus side to it...after spending 3 days in those sub-freezing temperatures, you'll actually feel warm when it's 34ºF (1ºC).

Speaking of wind, an uninvited guest showed up while I was in Iceland earlier this month – hurricane Sandy or whatever was left of it. Technically, it was no longer a hurricane but with 60 mph winds (95 kph) blowing nonstop, it sure felt like one. At times, it was utterly impossible to walk, at times I got pushed where I didn’t want to go, and other times I had to cling to a lamppost or fire hydrant lest I ended up in the Faroe Islands. But somehow the combination of bitter cold (think ice), volcanic ash from last year’s Grímsvötn eruption (think dust) and lashing winds (think swirls) created one of the most fiery sunsets I’ve ever seen. Check out the photos and you’ll understand why I’d gladly go through this again.

Another major reason for going to Iceland in winter, especially in October, is the annual Airwaves Festival which highlights both Icelandic and international up and coming alternative acts. For roughly $250, a pass gives access to any show in any of the venues during the 5-day festival. Better yet, even when passes sell out, there are numerous free off venue shows around Reykjavík by the same artists so there’s plenty of opportunity to catch anything from pop to metal, hip hop to folk.

This year, the festival’s closing show was by Sigur Rós, a band that defies definition. Their music ranges from the almost angelic to almost metal, and they go from one to the other seamlessly, somehow making it all hang together. If you haven’t heard them yet, pick up Takk or Með Suð Í Eyrum Við Spilum Endalaust (try saying this and you’ll find that Eyjafjallajökull is a piece of cake…), their two best albums in my opinion. They'll tour the US in spring, and I highly recommend going. In a way, their music and their show reflect Iceland – it’s a journey and you don’t know where it is going to take you. All you know is that there’s always a surprise in store for you, and most likely, it will blow you away.

In Nomine Patris Et Lumen Et Lavandula

320 days of sunshine every year. While the Greek Islands, southern California or the Canary Islands might first come to mind, Provence in southern France also holds the distinction of being one of the sunniest places in the world. Besides sunny, Provençal weather is also pleasant, with temperatures averaging 55°F (13°C) in winter and 82°F (28°C) in summer.

Until the 2nd century BC, Provence was known to Romans as Transalpine Gaul, literally 'land of the Celts on the far side of the Alps". By 146 BC, Rome had gained territories in Spain, thus eyeing Transalpine Gaul as a corridor to its newly acquired lands. Thus by 120 BC, Rome occupied that whole Mediterranean coast, creating the first Roman province beyond the Alps and calling it Provincia Nostra ("our province") or simply Provincia, the origin of the current name.

Roman influence on Provence was significant. In the 1st century BC, Roman policy towards its settlements outside Italy changed: whereas previously they were considered just sources of wealth to be plundered, under Emperor Augustus they were viewed as a solution to Rome's social unrest caused by landless peasants and idle veteran soldiers. He turned the provinces into extensions of Rome where landless citizens and legionnaires would settle, at the same time removing them from Rome and protecting the borders of the Empire. To make them feel at home, Augustus created replicas of Rome in each city, with arenas, baths, forums and temples, some of which are very well preserved, are in use and can be seen today in Provence such as the 20,000-seat Les Arènes amphitheatre in Arles and the Théâtre Antique in Orange, Europe's best preserved Roman theater with its 340ft (103m) wide, 120ft (37m) high stage wall, the only one still standing in Europe.

Roman influence in Provence did not end with the fall of the Empire. In 1309, French-born Pope Clément V moved the papacy to Avignon where seven pontiffs, all Frenchmen, led the Roman Catholic church until 1376. The Palais des Papes (Palace of the Popes), the world's largest Gothic palace, dominates Avignon's old town and a visit will give you a glimpse into papal wealth though you'll need to use your imagination to picture how life was in the now bare palace.

But perhaps Provence is most known by all the painters who chose to call it home at one time or another, primarily in the 19th and 20th centuries: Renoir, Cézanne (born in Aix-en-Provence where you can grab a drink or a bite at Les Deux Garçons, one of his favorite cafés), Georges Braque, Renoir, Matisse, Picasso, Signac, Monet, Munch and my favorite van Gogh. The latter lived little more than two years in Provence but his most well known works were painted there. Nowadays, you can seat at the Café Van Gogh which he depicted in Terrasse de Café la Nuit and you can follow a route in St-Rémy (the birthplace of Nostradamus) that shows most of the scenes he painted there. So the question is: what attracted so many painters? Light, pure and simple. Light in Provence has a special clarity attributed to the mistral wind that is said to remove dust from the atmosphere and increase visibility. But mistral does something else...it can blow you away...literally. If you weigh less than 130 lbs (60 kg), stuffing rocks in your pockets is strongly recommended.

Another thing inextricably linked to Provence is lavender. The region is famous for its lavender fields with the July/early August peak bloom offering miles and miles of the purple flower for your visual and olfactory delight. Lavender has many uses in Provence: perfume, cosmetics, soaps, oils, candles, sachets, tea, cookies, ice cream. I tried the ice cream and at first bite it feels like eating perfume just because the scent is strong but once I got over that, it was surprisingly good-tasting. But then again, if it's edible and it's French, that's how it's supposed to be.

High and Low

Jagged, raw, blustery - all these words can be used to describe Nova Scotia. With 4,600 miles (7,400 km) of coastline and nowhere more than 42 miles (67 km) from the ocean, Nova Scotia is inextricably linked to the sea and its cycles. Located halfway between the equator and the north pole with an area of 21,300 sq. miles (55,200 sq. km) and a population of less than 1 million (with over 1/3 living in and around the capital Halifax), Nova Scotia feels blessedly empty, a perfect place to visit when you need peace and quiet. As I only had 5 days in Nova Scotia, I decided not to spend too much time on the road and picked two regions not too far from Halifax: the South Shore and the Bay of Fundy.

The South Shore is Nova Scotia's most visited coast, a stretch of fishing villages dotted with quaint cottages and lighthouses. The best way to see the area is by taking Highway 3 that hugs the shore and cuts through all the towns. The highlight of the region is Lunenburg, the largest of the villages and a Unesco World Heritage Site. Lunenburg was a major shipbuilding center and it was here that in 1921 the Bluenose was built, a fishing and racing schooner that remained undefeated in international racing for 17 years and now resides permanently on the Canadian dime. Its replica, the Bluenose II, is used for summer sailing cruises but is currently undergoing a major rebuild. Lunenburg continues to be an important port but fishing and shipbuilding have given way to tourism as the main economic activity - the town's colorful gingerbread-like houses seemingly straight out of a fairy tale now attract thousands of visitors each year.

The Bay of Fundy, located between Nova Scotia and New Brunswick, is known for the highest tidal range in the world - up to 53 feet (16 m) between low and high tides with over 100 billion tons of water flowing in and out of the bay daily during each 12.5-hour tide cycle, more than the combined flow of all freshwater rivers in the world. All this ebb and flow has eroded the landscape into the dramatic scenery we see today of jagged cliffs and rock formations. A great way to see the region is to hike one of several trails that lead to one of the overhanging cliffs or explore the shore at low tide but be warned: many tourists have ignored the tidal cycle only to find themselves stranded when tides come in. I'd probably have been one of them were it not for the weather - on the day I had planned a hike in Cape Chignecto Provincial Park overlooking the bay, rain followed by a thick fog forced me to ditch my plans. Bummer, I thought. But as the mists rolled in and blanketed everything in white, it totally changed the scenery...it became eerie, a bit lunar, and as I looked at the empty, almost desolate landscape with the sound of waves as my only link to the rest of the world, I was reminded of the beauty of travel - you never know what's coming your way and you'll make the most of it when you welcome it.

Between A Rock And A Sweet Place

Watches, chocolate, first-class skiing, army knives, secret "numbered" accounts. All this comes to mind when you mention Switzerland. And there's a new distinction: Zurich, the country's largest city with a small 350k population, is now the most expensive city in the world (Geneva ranks at #3). Even if The Economist hadn't told me so, I'd have figured it out by the spasms in my wallet every time I had to fork out $4 for a bottle of water that wasn't even a Perrier! Adieu to my dream of having a genuine Swiss "numbered" account. By the way, in Zurich one day there was a Thank You booth celebrating 100 years of Swiss banking. Said another way, 100 years of helping the wealthy keep their secrets.

Switzerland is a very unique country. It has four official languages (German, French, Italian and Romansh) and is one of the oldest neutral countries in the world - its neutrality guaranteed by international law since 1815 when the Congress of Vienna determined that "the neutrality and inviolability of Switzerland, and its independence from all foreign influence, are in the true political interests of all of Europe". And neutral, placid Switzerland seems willing to defend its independence with fervor: the country has one of the highest gun ownership rates in the world as a result of its military system that requires that soldiers, either professional or draftees, keep their weapons at home. Service is compulsory for men reaching the age of majority, after which he'll go through yearly or biennial training periods. Thus, Switzerland has an army ever ready to spring into action, not to mention that the country's major bridges and tunnels are built with tank traps, and the latter also have emergency demolition features. The Swiss really leave nothing to chance.

The country is small - 8 million people over 15,940 sq.miles (41,285 km²), slightly bigger than Connecticut and New Jersey combined. 70% covered by mountains, it has approximately 100 peaks close to or higher than 13,000 feet (4,000 meters) that make Switzerland a skiing mecca. I didn't ski...had I tried, I would probably be able to say I had broken a few bones but good though as they may be, a Swiss ER is no spa so I did what non-skiing visitors do in the Swiss Alps: I went up to Jungfraujoch, advertised as The Top Of Europe because it is the location of the highest railway station in the continent at 11,333 feet (3,454 km). The station is celebrating its centenary this year, and is reached by a cog-wheel train that traverses tunnels inside the solid Eiger and Mönch mountains. The station is touristy but you can get a feel for the Alpine wilderness by taking the trail that goes from the station to the Mönchsjoch Hut at 12,000 feet (3,658 meters), the starting point for climbs to peaks in the region. It's a breathtaking little hike - not only because you plow through the snow with a view of the Mönch all along the way, but also because at that altitude, you'll literally be out of breath before you can learn how to say Jungfraujochbahn. Make sure you're in shape. And make sure your wallet is also in shape otherwise it may need bypass surgery once you pay for the train ticket. However, if you'll be traveling mostly by train in Switzerland, it's worth buying the Half Fare card, valid for one year and entitling the holder to a 50% discount on all train rides.

But the sweetest thing about Switzerland is its chocolate. The Swiss are the largest consumers of chocolate in the world at 22 lbs (10 kg) per year, and I'm sure that if other countries had chocolate as good as the Swiss, they'd be eating it a lot more too. But why is Swiss chocolate so good? It all comes down to cost - cocoa butter is very expensive so many chocolate makers replace it partially with vegetable oil. The Swiss don't and your taste buds can tell the difference: Swiss chocolate is richer, with a creamier consistency and a lingering aftertaste that begs for more. True, it is more expensive and I saw one priced at $95 for 3.5 oz. (100 g). And while I was trying to figure out how much I'd have to pay for a little lick of what must be chocolate nirvana, my wallet went into cardiac arrest. But I'm sure that the chocolatier need not worry...they probably have a captive clientele in the anonymous owners of those (in)famous numbered accounts.

Pink Onionland

Onions love their pink beaches and call their home “Paradise”. No, this is not a story for an animated movie nor have I smoked anything. Onions is what Bermudians call themselves because onions were one of the first things Bermuda became famous for – they were grown on the islands back in the 1800s and exported to the US east coast where they were known for their sweetness.

Bermuda has come a long way since its onion days and now is mostly known for three things: the Bermuda shorts, the Bermuda Triangle and its pink sands. The Bermuda shorts were originally worn by the British Army in tropical and desert climates. They became popular in Bermuda during World War II when a shortage of clothing led the general managers of two Bermudian banks to distribute two pair of army-style shorts to their employees. They became a business attire and are now the correct national dress code for virtually every occasion including meeting the Queen. And like any dress code, there are rules: they must be worn two inches above the knee with knee-high black or navy socks, a white or blue short-sleeved shirt and a navy blazer. Somehow I get the feeling you'll never see this in an Armani collection.

While the Bermuda shorts dress code is virtually unknown outside the islands, the Bermuda Triangle is notorious the world over. Covering an area that stretches from the Atlantic coast of Miami to Puerto Rico to Bermuda, legend has it that several airplanes and ships disappeared mysteriously in the area, some attributing it to extraterrestrials, paranormal activity or left over technology from the lost continent of Atlantis (this last theory probably surfaced in the 1960's). One thing people overlook though - the triangle is one of the most heavily traveled shipping lanes and flight routes in the world so the number of disappearances is fairly small considering regular traffic through the area. To me, it's just sensationalism (aka, a way to make easy money) but I could be wrong...after all, the end of the world on December 21, 2012 could come when the planet gets sucked into the Triangle (note to self: try to sell this crappy idea for a B movie).

Shorts and Triangle don't cut it so we're left with pink sand beaches. And in that category, Bermuda enchants. Pink sand is rare but abounds in Bermuda due to small dark red sea creatures called forams that live on the underside of reefs and are found only in the world's northernmost reefs. Bermuda has miles of pink sand, and not only are they unique and photogenic, they're also very, very fine. So fine that on some beaches, you feel like you're walking on talc powder.

Now some of you may wonder if it's worth going to Bermuda in winter. True, you probably won't be able to swim but you can still get a tan since daytime temperatures average 70°F (21°C). Furthermore, Bermuda is only a two-hour flight from NY, is small enough (21 sq. miles or 53 km²) to be explored on a long weekend, and is much more affordable in low season. Also, Bermudians are very friendly and won't harass you. But best of all, you'll likely find a pink sand, turquoise water bay all to yourself and feel like you're on your own private island.