A favorite among Cabo San Lucas hotels on the beach, Chileno Bay Resort & Residences sits along one of Cabo’s most swimmable beaches, a half-mile stretch of golden sand that leads to some of the calmest, most tranquil waters in the region. The Blue Flag-certified beach is also home to one of Los Cabo’s best snorkeling reefs, where you’ll discover a hidden underwater world brimming with colorful sea life. “You’ll feel like you’re swimming in an aquarium,” says one recent fan.

With college graduation in my rearview mirror and a specialized full-time job ahead, my mother suggested she and I spend some quality time together on a road trip to Calistoga. We were primed to create some fun memories.

They say there’s a first time for everything. For me, it was discovering bocce ball, an ancient sport played since the days of the Roman Empire, and a game I learned to play during a family vacation at Solage. We arrived to the outdoor patio under a brilliant scarlet sunset at Solbar, where we ordered a few small bites and cocktails while our sons Jake and Luke expressed their desire for a bit more activity. Fortunately, beyond the rectangular fire pit past the outdoor seating, we noticed two beautifully groomed bocce ball courts.

I’ve practiced yoga all over the world, including in India and Nicaragua for hundreds of hours of yoga training. But one of the most magical is right here in Santorini, especially at my favorite spot, on a promontory rock in front of Grace Hotel that juts out into the Aegean Sea. Here, taking in splendid views of the Caldera, I feel connected to Asclepius, the Greek god of medicine and healing; Epione, the goddess of soothing; and their daughters, goddesses of health and recuperation. I feel their ancient powers flow through with each breath and yoga pose.

Every summer for the last 18 years, I meet my friends and family at Cardines Field at 20 America's Cup Avenue to hear the first crack of the bat during the opening game of the Newport Gulls, a summer collegiate baseball team based in our hometown of Newport, Rhode Island. Founded in Cranston in 1998, we take pride in saying we’re one of the NECBL's most successful teams, winning six Fay Vincent, Sr. Cups to date.

My husband and I are happy to get our hands dirty for the sake of renewing the farming culture of Southern Maine. On our four-acre property, Frinklepod Farm, you can spend the day with us to explore our acreage and three greenhouses—we’ll get you out of the city and into the soil.

I’ve been studying Reiki for 26 years when my path to the healing art began in 1990 when my hands started talking to me. The message was clear: they wanted to be used as instruments for change. Now as a Reiki Master in the Traditional Usui System, my technique includes channeling healing energy to you through my hands, which activates the natural healing processes of your body to restore your physical and emotional well-being, shifting your perspective on life and allowing space for you embrace self-responsibility to operate from a place of love instead of fear.

My girlfriends and I were looking for a place for a girls getaway. Our goal was great outdoor experiences and relaxed but attentive service. We wanted something a bit different this year. One friend had been to Utah before and mentioned she had a fabulous time. Of course, many of us have been skiing in Utah, but it is spring, and all the snow has melted. We were not convinced there would be anything to do. After some searching, I found out that Utah is the first state to be given three Michelin Stars!

When my family and I first began to plan our stay at Esperanza, we fantasized over spending as much time as possible in and on the water. Learning how to paddleboard was on my son’s bucket list, my daughter wanted to horseback ride along the beach, and we all relished the idea of a lazy sail along the Sea of Cortez, taking in dips to swim and snorkel whenever the mood struck. We ended up having an amazing time doing all those things, and we also discovered a fantastic—and wholly unexpected—new way to enjoy the water: movie night in the pool.

The last time I attended the Twilight at Kalāhuipua‘a concert series, a beautiful Hawaiian woman jumped up from the audience to dance the hula. Barefoot, with a bright red hibiscus tucked behind her ear, she knew every step by heart. The crowd showered her with applause as she swayed in perfect time to the lilting melodies of old Hawaii.

My wife Maggie and I are Co-Captains of the Banquets Team, where you will usually find us presiding over wedding receptions and corporate events, orchestrating all the minute details from setting up 12-piece place settings to making sure the procession of courses and wine pairings goes smoothly. But I also lead a double life. As many mornings as possible, I soar like a bird high over Aspen as a paragliding instructor. It’s the most exhilarating feeling to see the four ski mountains—Aspen, Snowmass, Highlands, and Buttermilk—and the entire valley from such a high vantage point.

As you walk to Chileno Bay’s front desk, you will be greeted by a monumental steel sculpture by Sante Fe, New Mexico-based artist Will Clift—your first sign that art will surround you at seemingly every turn here. Enjoy a wide range of pieces from dozens of artists based right here in Los Cabos, elsewhere in Mexico, and across the U.S., showcased in the resort’s public spaces as well as in each guestroom, suite or villa. No two pieces are alike, though common themes of seascapes, desert landscapes, and natural elements abound.

News travels fast on a small island, and within days of Mr. Leon Roydon seeing Meads Bay, we all knew it was going to the location of a luxury hotel. Mr. Roydon had been shown Meads Bay by the tourist board, and he fell in love with the area that would become Malliouhana.

I'm Barbara Phillips, the horse thief. In 2013, I stole a mistreated horse from a very neglectful ranch and later named her Gracie. After hearing about the horrific abuse on the local news, I immediately got involved. The situation was grim. Only through police escort was I allowed to help any of the 140 horses involved. While helping with medical treatments, I spotted Gracie who had an infected, untreated wound. I convinced the officers to trailer Gracie to the veterinary hospital and I took financial responsibility for her. Several visits later, I loaded her in my trailer and took her to an undisclosed location.

Entering Amtrak’s 1950s-era domed railcar was like stepping back in time. With my feet kicked up and my Australian Shepard, Max, in tow, I never knew a two-hour, car-free connection on the Downeaster train from North Station in Boston to Wells, Maine, could be so enjoyable and land me only 5 miles from Kennebunk. From passing New England’s most beautiful stretches of pristine coastline to enjoying vistas of the idyllic countryside, I enjoyed my steamy cup of chowder from the Downeaster Café while Max chewed on his favorite bone. Seated in the train’s upper level with panoramic windows on all sides, this daytime adventure proved an added perk before my vacation even began.

There’s nothing like biting into a steamy fried clam roll while sitting on the beach overlooking Sakonnet River, the juiciness of the oyster seeping out to form the ultimate creamy combination with homemade mayonnaise. It’s hard to believe this sandwich, one of our most illustrious traditions, was all but unfathomable at the dawn of the 1900s when New Englanders only ate their clams steamed, raw on the half shell, or chopped in chowder.

Thwack. The sound of a machete slicing through the air is not something most people hear every day. Yet one balmy Friday morning in March, I found myself hearing that thwack over and over as our guide Ratu led a group of guests and hotel employees through an overgrown path toward his village. As we reached a clearing and got our first look at the village we’d come to assist in building water filters, I glanced over at my teenage son in time to see his eyes widen. It’s safe to say, coming from the urban sprawl of San Francisco, neither of us had ever experienced anything quite like this before!

To the rest of the country, Hunter S. Thompson might be best known as the godfather of gonzo journalism. Thompson lived and wrote on the edge in a style epitomized in “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” which first came out in two installments in Rolling Stone before being published as a book that would end up defining the post-'60s counterculture. But to Aspenites, and especially here at Hotel Jerome, he’s best remembered for his 1970 run for sheriff of Aspen Pitkin County.

Ahh, summer. The long awaited season of carefree afternoons, lingering poolside with bottomless glasses of crisp, refreshing, palate-pleasing Rosé. While this beautiful, multi-hued wine has long been the drinkable go-to for summer, Rosé has blossomed in popularity to become a year-round selection. Thanks to its food-friendly nature, Rosé now commands its own section in the supermarket wine aisle and has expanded beyond one or two offerings on restaurant wine lists to showcase domestic offerings from California and Oregon as well as international varietals from France, Italy and Spain, as winemakers expand on traditional Rosé styles and chefs and sommeliers embrace the versatility of Rosé as an ideal pairing companion.

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