I am Lost and Found

Category: Feast

St Barths is always a good idea

If a picture is worth a thousand words, then this post will virtually write itself. With boundless blue skies, and streaks of white clouds that read more watercolor than a photograph, St Barths is one unending photo op after another. To paraphrase a famous quote “St Barths is always a good idea.” I couldn’t agree more.

St. Barthélemy

Not more than a speck in the West Indies, St Barths was discovered by Christopher Columbus in 1493. With a population that hovers near 10,000, French-speaking and French-influenced, this Caribbean island makes up for its small size with a grand personality. Luxury and boutique shopping, swanky restaurants, superfine, white sandy beaches, and trendy nightclubs only begin to scratch the surface of what’s on offer.

However, this post is not about St Barths, per se. It is about an extraordinary villa that just happens to be on this extraordinary island. A volcanic island that is surrounded by shallow reefs, and shades of blue water that are—to use a common cliché—indescribable. Attempting brevity, and allowing the story to unfold through the photographs, I will try my best not to overhype.

Although I won’t promise.

Villa Ixfalia

Winding up the steep, narrow streets towards the villa, streets that seem to defy the laws of traction and gravity, was an adventure in itself. A sharp inhale at each curve, wondering if a truck or car was careening toward us from the opposite direction.

St Barths has made a miraculous recovery since Irma, but there is much activity and building going on, which makes the roads even more precarious. I allow myself to exhale—we have arrived. It is the highest point on this lush, green north-facing hillside. Villa Ixfalia.

Enter at your own risk

The overgrown jungle-like entrance to Ixfalia is deceptive. Perhaps this is intentional. A way to create even greater impact—like the opening of the velvet curtain at showtime, or the unveiling of a piece of art. Walk along the wooden planked path, through the wide, glass threshold, and into the open-air living space. Twenty or more rattan lampshades lazily sway above you. Varying in shapes and sizes, and dangling at varying heights, they create a mesmerizing display.

However, as beautiful as the lights may be, chances are you won’t notice them, as your eyes are reflectively drawn forward.

Cue the panorama—the only thing that lies between you and the sea is a glacier-blue infinity pool. A pool that will make you feel like you are swimming in the sky.

Villa life at Ixfalia

Ixfalia is perched several hundred feet in the air, majestically overlooking St Jean Beach and the iconic red-roof-topped Eden Rock Hotel. The blurring of indoor and outdoor living at the villa is reinforced at every turn. Rooms are wide open to the sea in nearly every direction, with modern, sheer shades that can be electronically maneuvered when needed.

There is surround sound music that can be accessed through your personal Sonos. Don’t have a St Barths playlist? No worries, as there are a few pre-made on hand. We immediately plugged in, then jumped from daytime pool party to pre-dinner lounge party, to post-dinner dance party—everyone a DJ with competing playlists.

Chasing the sun in St Barths

As with any well-designed villa, there are multiple places to relax, have cocktails, or disappear with a good book.

Tiered patio areas offered large, soft, double-wide sun loungers. It became a daily game of leapfrog, as we lost the sun over the hillside and moved from one sunny tier to another.

Once the last drop light gave out, we prepared ourselves for sunset with spicy margueritas. We then watched the beautiful streaks of color, oranges, and purples, crisscross the sky in front of us.

At Ixfalia, It’s all in the details

Each of the four bedrooms at Ixfalia is designed in soft woods tones and natural textiles. A study in white, various shades blending and melding. Driftwood is used generously throughout the property, both in elegant, organic ways, as well as in functional ways.

A driftwood seating area doubles as art from afar, a large entanglement of wood is perfectly placed on an otherwise blank wall. It is the opposite of glitzy ornamental opulence; there are natural finishes vs. gold-plated ones. Sandstone, sand, and shells rather than gemstones, mirrors, and baubles.

Ixfalia Masterd the villa in St Barths

The master bedroom is slightly separated from the main villa, facing the sweeping sea views — with a magnificent rock formation framed behind it. Among its many amenities, it boasts an enormous bathroom, complete with a stand-alone tub and open-plan rain shower.

The walk-in closet is so large, Stella McCartney could organize her next fashion show from it with room to spare. The king bed is centered and faces the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors that lead to the pool, and then onwards to the sea. Again, you feel like you are miles above the world, staring straight into the sky.

Found objects

The other rooms are sea-facing as well, some with private outdoor showers, all with flat-screen Apple TVs, and found objects on display. Bleached animal skulls, organic sculptures, gigantic white shells, and beadwork, among them. Every room is different, yet each with a similar low-key vibe and complimenting color palette. Rattan is a strong natural feature throughout the rooms, from the tall, standing lamps and ottomans, to the delicate cup holders that hide a bottle of Evian on the night table.

We found ourselves in a constant conundrum—wanting to explore the island but never wanting to leave the villa.

Seeing (Eden Roc) Red

Red may not be the first color that comes to mind when imagining St Barths, but it is the primary color of Eden Rock, a premier luxury resort that also owns about 100 villas dotted around the island. An Eden Rock villa will give you extra perks: pole position loungers at Nikki Beach, hard to get dinner reservations, delivery of your rental car to the villa, and daily maid service, to name a few.

An ‘Ultraluxe’ Eden Rock villa includes a dedicated butler and chef, which takes villa living to an entirely new level. Eden Rock red certainly equals access on this island, and access in St Barths can be critical depending on how much or how little you’d like to do.

Carla

The very first touch point of our trip was Carla, and up until the moment we departed, she was one of the highlights of our stay. Never without a smile, a kind word, a laugh, and a ‘with pleasure’ when asked to help, we could not have had the same trip without her.

Carla was born in Johannesburg, but raised in Italy. Her career in hospitality has taken her from Europe, to America, and back to Europe, before her current role at Eden Rock. She told us funny stories of playing Chip, from Chip and Dale, while working at the Disney cruise line. Her flawless French is mixed with a twinge of her native Italian and adds to her effervescent charm.

As I said to my husband early on, it was as if she anticipated our every need. In the gorgeous open plan of Ixfalia, she was somehow always there when needed, and magically disappeared when we didn’t.

Some joked it was going to be hard to go back to reality without Carla. What I later thought was that I wanted to go back to reality and channel a little bit of my ‘inner Carla’. Her genuine sense of kindness and her ability to deliver happiness was contagious. An extra beam of light in sunny St Barths.

The talented Ms. Virginie

The same goes for Virginie, our lovely French chef. Not only was every meal perfectly presented, both verbally and artistically, she was always smiling and happy to take requests. She shared photos of her adorable newborn son, a foodie in the making!

Breakfast each morning was a carb-oholic’s dream. Her grandmother’s brioche french toast was a true highlight, so delicate and warm, it would have been a sin to add syrup. Each morning I swore I wouldn’t indulge, yet each morning I did. The secret, she confided, was that the brioche was soaked overnight in cream. Vacation calories don’t count, right?

If you don’t have a sweet tooth, however, she had many other tricks up her sleeve: a homemade chia pudding topped with granola, platters of artfully presented fresh fruit, soft scrambled eggs with herbs and ham, and perfectly crisped bacon, to name a few.

Fresh juices: beet, green, and pineapple lined the table, as did grilled baguette drizzled with olive oil. Carla and Virginie seemed to have memorized each of our caffeine vices upon arrival and had cappuccinos or herbal teas brewing as we sat down.

Nikki Beach, St Barths

As with Carla, Virginie seemed to anticipate our every culinary need. On Sunday we were booked at Nikki Beach for brunch, a daytime pool club/restaurant that gains momentum as the day goes on.

Waiters dance with magnums of rosé on their shoulders, saxophonists perform on tabletops, and eventually, most of the room, young and old, is up and moving. The music imperceptibly ratchets up over time, so that you might find yourself struggling to have a conversation.

Knowing full well that we wouldn’t want a heavy meal later on as planned, Virginie suggested a homemade pizza night. After indulging at Nikki Beach, it was the perfect way to end our day. Every few minutes a new pizza emerged: veggie, pepperoni, four cheese, and truffle among them.

Virginie whipped up so many fantastic meals that we began to rethink our ‘in v. out’ food strategy. Her steak with homemade Bernaise sauce was divine, as was the decadent homemade chocolate chip cookie topped with ice cream.

We enjoyed a lunch of roast chicken with rosemary, quinoa salad, and baked cauliflower. It was a side dish that became a main dish: a full head of cauliflower that had been baked in spices for over two hours, then sliced table-side like a birthday cake. I am still waiting for the recipe, Virginie!

Early Access to what’s hot

Click here. Be the first to know when I find a new place to get lost!

St Barths: Beyond Ixfalia

No mega-resorts line the beachfront of St Barths, and only a handful of low-key, high-end hotels like Le Toiny and Eden Rock have been within the jet-set crosshairs for decades. There is certainly an unruffled movie star quality to the people. An air of white linen, and understated elegance that is as breezy and natural as the island itself. All within these 25 square miles seems to have more sunlight than is physically possible.

In v. Out, Le déjeuner on St Barths

We sacrificed villa time for a few noteworthy excursions. We headed to the understated beach restaurant at the glamorous Hotel Le Toiny. The property has been fully rebuilt since Irma and is nothing short of spectacular. The spare and wild coastline will have you imagining that you have the island to yourself.

The restaurant digs its feet (and tables!) firmly into the sand, no shoes are required, (or even allowed), as there is a wooden shelf to stack them as you arrive. But don’t be fooled, it is as upscale and decadent as a beach restaurant can be.

In v. Out, le dîner on St Barths

There is no shortage of dining options on the island, but getting a reservation is still a trial during the high season, so booking early is certainly the way to go. We opted for tiny L’Isola, a modern, Italian, boutique restaurant by Santa Monica chef, Fabrizio Bianconi.

L’Isola boldly dares to abide away from the beach and is tucked on the edge of St Barths’ capital, Gustavia. Despite its location, it draws a crowd that will have you standing three deep at the long, inviting bar, waiting for his inventive fare. The room is low-lit, yet the buzz is high, and you could imagine you are in Milan or NYC as easily as St Barths.

Beach life on St Barths

The rugged, rocky coastline of St Barths is possibly the most beautiful natural element it possesses. The black, porous, volcanic rocks lump together along Columbier Beach in an Instagrammers dream setting. In fact, there were more than a few young girls who made the backdrop their personal photo studio. Selfies for miles.

Columbier is not easily found, and it is either a 25-minute coastal hike or a boat to gain access, which makes the beach all the more private and exclusive feeling. Sailboats and yachts dot the bay, and goats with their kids roam the rocks. It is a 180-degree shift from extravagant Nikki Beach, yet both are worth a trip in their own right.

St Barths is always a good idea

To paraphrase Audrey Hepburn, there is very little reason not to go to St Barth’s. Whether you want to be hidden, be seen, or both/and, St Barths is one of the few Caribbean islands that has just about everything going for it. With the French twist, it also has the innate culture that some islands lack.

Where I failed in brevity, I made up for it in detail. The story wrote itself, didn’t it? It’s all in the pictures.

Early Access to what’s hot

Click here. Be the first to know when I find a new place to get lost!

Five reasons to get lost:

• The hottest and one of the most well-known venues in St Barths is Le Ti. But don’t come for the food! Le Ti is part boudoir, part cabaret, and is always completely off the charts.

• Shellona Beach at sundown is buzzy and relaxed. Grab a table in the sand, order a cocktail, and spend a few hours people-watching. Gorgeous women model clothes from the neighboring boutique, walking the beach like a catwalk.

• In-villa massages with ocean breezes are a great way to bridge the gap between day and night.

• Virginie’s overnight cream-soaked brioche. Worth another mention.

• Driving the iconic, colorful island mokes up and down the hills of St Barths. Equal parts are breathtaking and terrifying.

March 6, 2019
Snow-capped Summer in Chamonix, France

Face to Face with Mont Blanc, Chamonix, France /

You don’t have to be an intrepid mountaineer to get up close and personal with majestic Mont Blanc in Chamonix. You can do as we did, which was to take the first cable car up and be gratified instantly. We stood on the chilly observation deck, gawking at the looming mountain, not believing it could be so cold up here, while at the base the July temps were soaring into the high 70s.

Suddenly, what could have been a scene from Into Thin Air played out before us. A group of four climbers, wearing full climbing gear, complete with ice axes and crampons, quite literally threw a line over the observation deck and hoisted themselves onto the tourist-filled platform. Here we were, dressed in flip flops and t-shirts, a sharp contrast to the mountaineers’ Arctic attire. They had just summited Mont Blanc, the highest mountain of the Alps at 15,781ft, and were headed down.

They spent a few minutes basking in the bright sun, accepting kudos from the crowd, contemplating what they had achieved, and taking obligatory selfies, before riding the gondola down with the rest of us mere mortals.

L’Aiguille du Midi

L’Aiguille du Midi cable car links the idyllic town of Chamonix to Aiguille. In looking back at that day, I would have been better off not knowing I was about to step onto one of the highest cable cars in the world. I’m not afraid of heights, and have been on my fair share of cable cars in the past, but something about a system originally built in the 1920s (albeit modernized many times over the following century) would have felt unsettling. Fortunately, I overcame my fear, otherwise I would have missed the remarkable panorama of Mont Blanc and the Alps.

Above the clouds

Mont Blanc towers gloriously and steadfast above the charming ski town of Chamonix, which sits on the southeastern edge of France. Spanning the French-Italian border, it is forever capped in snow, and draws many fearless climbers and hikers each year. And while we had hiking plans during our stay there, Mont Blanc is in a league of its own, the highest mountain in the Alps, where crampons, ropes, and deep reserves of stamina are critical gear.

Ski towns in the summer always seem to have a special feeling about them, the greens richer due to the winter run-off, the blues deeper against the pine-filled mountains. I have spent many green summers in Vermont which has an equally beautiful vibe. However, Chamonix has an almost magical aura to it, crowded with adventure seekers, off-season ski bums and tourists alike. Paragliders seemingly so close to the mountains that they could comfortably throw a snowball.

Charming Chamonix

Chamonix is unique in that you feel that you are tucked secretly away at the base of the sloping mountains, the Alps soaring high above you in every direction. It is incredibly dramatic, the razor sharp evergreen pines look like soldiers standing in rows at attention with military precision. Patches of the pine give way to different layers of trees, scrub and rock and then eventually snow caps, like icing on a cake. The glaciers are iridescent, often looking icy blue or even purple depending upon the light. But always moving, so we were told, at a surprising rate of 1000ft per year.

Hôtel Hameau Albert 1er

Perhaps one of the best parts of visiting Chamonix in the summer months is that all the colors of the flowers and greenery are brilliantly juxtaposed against the blue skies and white alpine mountain tops. A botanical rainbow of sorts. Tiger lilies were in season, and the orange and black-speckled wildflowers created another layer of colorful drama in an already dramatic setting.

That said, flowers of every color and variety were on full polychromatic display at our hotel, which was just outside of the village center. The Hôtel Hameau Albert 1er is a Relais & Chateaux chalet-like lodge with its gaze firmly set upon Mont Blanc. Cozy, wooden, rustic rooms, many with balconies or patios that displayed window boxes overflowing with ivy and climbing red geraniums.

The swimming pool is indoor/outdoor in a unique way. A vaulted ceiling and panels of glass and wood allow the sun to stream inside, and when outside, those glass panels become reflective. So, even if your lounge chair isn’t facing the mountains, you can see them in all of their splendor.

Between the glaciers

Our first hike, with the help of a cable car, started at an elevation of 4400ft and climbed virtually straight up to 8500ft. Daniel predicted it would take us about three hours. Fifteen minutes into the ascent, I was sure I was doomed. But then I settled into a comfortable pace and started to admire the surroundings, which took my mind off the challenge ahead. The terrain changed from pine, with brown needles that carpeted the ground, to hot pink wild azaleas and scrub, then further along we snaked high above the tree line where the flowers struggled to survive. Daniel, whether as a motivator to keep me moving, or not to hear any complaints, kept a solid ten yard distance between us. Smart man.

We scrambled over rocks and boulders, passing along a knife-edge ridge between two ominous glaciers, Bossons and Taconnaz, their menacing crevasses distinctly visible. We could hear deafening waterfalls as we turned one corner, then noticed the sound magically disappear as we rounded the next. It was mystifying how the mountains so abruptly absorbed the acoustics. We surprised some wildlife along the way, a lonely ibex leapt across our path, then later a fearless marmot followed us nearer to the summit.

Just before the three hour mark, we came upon a solo Austrian hiker on his way down. Daniel had thought we still had at least 30 minutes or so to summit, and the clouds were closing in, but the Austrian told us we were a mere ten minutes from the top, as we were just about to pass the famous sheltered boulders, Gîte à Balmat, where the first summiters of Mont Blanc spent their first night in 1786. Daniel was elated, we were ahead of the game, and maybe ahead of the weather.

As per the norm with our hikes, we were without a clear view when we reached La Jonction at 8500ft. We had been relatively lucky on the way up, and, thankfully, I capitalized on the views then, sometimes disguising rest stops as photo ops.

Summit sans view

We sat proudly at the summit, despite the clouds and impending rain, our ham sandwiches, chips and bottles of Coke tasted like the best lunch we’d ever had. As we were finishing up, it started to drizzle, and we zipped up to start the scramble down, a little more challenging due to the slippery rocks. The weather presented a unique sequence for us that day: thunder, rain, sun, hail, repeat.

The fog and clouds first obscured our views and then dramatically gave way to sunny patches that looked like a flashlight spotlighting Chamonix village far below. It was a spectacular day overall, and we felt we earned our upcoming two-star Michelin dinner that night at the hotel.

Albert 1er Restaurant

The spare, elegant, wood-paneled, and white table-clothed dining room of Albert 1er Restaurant effortlessly allows the cuisine to take center stage. Not that it wouldn’t if in the most ornate of settings, as the plates are so artfully designed and visually enticing. The flavors blend together harmoniously, as they are partially sourced from the herb and kitchen gardens on the property. The fare is traditional French, using traditional French ingredients, but presented in an entirely non-traditional way.

The written menu cleverly defies what you see on your plate when it arrives. The leeks, calf’s foot, egg yolk and Ossetra caviar dish, for example, looks completely different than what you would have perceived in your mind. Modern, artful, and skillfully designed. Chef Maillet succeeds in challenging every sense in just about every way.

A family affair

Chef Pierre Maillet’s culinary story is also a love story. Having worked for the original chef, Pierre Carrier, Maillet went on to marry Carrier’s daughter, Perrine. Together they have looked after the restaurant and preserved its two star status in the prestigious Michelin Guide. Perrine is visible nightly, greeting guests while gliding around the restaurant and glamorous Quartz Bar, which is complete with a lovely grand piano. You imagine that the French equivalent of Harry Connick Jr. could appear at any moment and start crooning.

Wine-ing and dining

Head sommelier, Marc-Henri Mialon seemed to be the lead player on the dining room floor with his subtle and mischievous sense of humor. We chose the set menu, paired with wine, which led with an intriguing Vin Mystère. At first glance, the mystery wine looked effervescent, like champagne. But that answer seemed too obvious. We spent some time thinking about it and incorrectly came up with a sparkling wine from Alsace. The correct answer? A sparkling Vouvray. Mialon luckily has much to choose from for his wine challenges, as the cellar at Albert 1er houses about 19,000 bottles.

It was a fun and lively way to start the evening, taking away any stuffiness you might associate with a restaurant of this status. I appreciated the lighthearted approach to the wine, which can be an intimidating part of any dining experience. As an aside, we discovered a week later, while at La Baumanière in Provence, that the sommelier there had worked not long ago with Marc-Henri Mialon while at Albert 1er. A small wine world, indeed!

The food and wine became more decadent with each course, from tomatoes, burrata and mackerel with kitchen garden herbs, to dace with pine bud honey, carrots, gingerbread and preserved lemon. Ten courses—an epicurean adventure—including a roving and overflowing cheese trolley. The final hurrah was a Crêpe Suzette made table-side, which actually wasn’t on the tasting menu, but that Daniel had his heart set on and we ordered anyway. Needless to say, we were happy we only had to walk about 100ft to our room. After the day’s colossal hike, and the night’s equally colossal dinner, we were officially ‘fini’.

World Cup France v. Belgium

Being in France during the World Cup frenzy was both a blessing and a curse. The village of Chamonix was pulsing with fans amped up for the matches. Finding a place that we could both enjoy a good meal as well as watch the soccer was a feat. After annoying my husband by walking aimlessly around town trying to find the ‘perfect’ spot, then vetoing a place he found with a large tv, (but no diners, bad sign!), we finally hit the jackpot. A bistro with one recently abandoned outdoor table that had pole position in front of the TV. We conspired to eat and drink as slowly as possible over the remainder of the 90 minute match as we couldn’t bear to give up our prime seats.

France won and Chamonix erupted. It was a fantastic night, made even better by the much needed low-key contrast to the previous evening’s meal. Chamonix has lovely narrow streets filled with hidden dive bars, bistros and shops, many of which are geared towards the outdoor adventure set. The slightly intoxicated bartender at the bar we had visited pre-dinner was so excited when France scored that he abandoned his post, and headed to a neighboring bar to celebrate with a fellow bartender. He reappeared 15 minutes later, more intoxicated, and sent around complimentary shots. A win for everyone!

Lac Blanc

Our second hike in Chamonix proved less lucky than the first weather-wise (not that our first was ideal, mind you) as we set out in clouds and spent the majority of the day in them as well. Yet, the Alps look breathtaking no matter what the weather, and being above the clouds created an alternate yet equally devastatingly scenic view. We were on our way to a reflective lake called Lac Blanc, known to be the most celebrated walk the Chamonix Valley.

Accessible by La Flégère cable car in Les Praz, the hike was shorter and less strenuous than La Jonction thankfully, but had more snow with which to contend. We inched across a few steep, icy passages, now wishing that we had our own crampons and ice axe. The lake was beautiful and serene, and while both Daniel and I had hoped the sun would make an appearance, even for just a few minutes, it refused. So we spent the remainder of the rainy day in the spa and indoor pool at the Hameau Albert, which felt well-deserved after our morning of hiking.

Final views

Three days in Chamonix was just not enough, as I would have loved a few more hikes and maybe a bit more sun. We were due to leave early the next morning, but when we woke up, the shining sun was too good to pass on, so we delayed our departure for one last ride on La Flégère to catch the views that had eluded us the day before.

That morning, I stepped onto the platform of the cable car without fear, and with utter happiness that I was one of the ones wearing flip flops rather than hiking boots this time. We spent a few quiet minutes taking in the awesome panorama of the Alps, then hopped back onto the cable car. Next stop, Provence.

Find it:

Hôtel Hameau Albert 1er: https://www.hameaualbert.fr/en
Albert 1er Restaurant: https://www.hameaualbert.fr/en/gastronomic-restaurant
L’Aiguille du Midi: https://www.chamonix.com/aiguille-du-midi-step-into-the-void,80,en.html
Hiking Routes in Chamonix: https://10hikes.com/france/chamonix-hikes/

September 9, 2018
The Best (and Only) Lunch in Erbonne, Italy. Pop. 11

Often, my husband and I head off the beaten path, so to speak, and wing it, when we travel. When we visited Lake Como, we did just that one morning and were rewarded with the best lunch to be found just outside of Lake Como, at the only restaurant in the tiny hamlet of Erbonne.

It was a surprise that one of our best lunches in the Lake Como area was not at a stone grotto-ed Michelin-starred restaurant, or on a lakeside patio with the majestic Alps in the distance. It was a surprise that we didn’t need to get there by Vaporetto or pull up to a parking lot filled with purring Maseratis. It turns out, our pre-COVID trip to Italy was filled with surprises.

Glamourous Lake Como

Lake Como is distractingly beautiful, with much to offer from both visual and culinary perspectives. Soaring mountains plunge directly into the illustrious lake. Villages puddle neatly between valleys, and ceramic-tiled rooftops notch up the hills like bricks of red legos. Restaurants dot the perimeter of the lake, each offering breezy umbrella-ed decks from which to gaze.

Glacial Lake Como is awfully pleased with itself and has every right to be, nestled in this idyllic locale just an hour from Milan. It is no wonder it has been a retreat for aristocrats, and for the rich and famous, since Roman times.

The lake itself offers a postcard image with each blink. Gorgeous boats (blink) alongside glitzy lakeside hamlets (blink) and swoon-worthy waterside cafes (blink). Glamorously dressed Italians, with their equally glamorous dogs in tow, teeter about (blink, blink, blink). A snapshot of chic Italian life, all in one dreamy destination.

Daytrippin’

As glamorous as Lake Como may be, the explorer in me wondered what might lie just beyond the glam. Counterintuitively, we headed away from the lake, with nothing but our Lonely Planet guidebook, and a tiny, bumblebee of a car—a cadmium yellow, Fiat 500.

Buzzing up and around the steep hilltop villages of Lombardy offered us a chance to experience the less touristy side of Lake Como. The rustic, the rambling, and the boutique-free side. Always chasing a view, we set off to see the fabled lakes from above. Our destination was Cima Sighignola, also known as the Balcony of Italy.

Not surprisingly, it was a challenge to get there. Roads became so narrow we were sure we were driving on sidewalks. Lanes looked so private, we confused them with driveways. Every turn had us doubting our navigation system, which due to never-ending hairpin turns, often had our Fiat floating in the middle of a lake.

The balcony of Italy

At 3120 meters above sea level, Cima Sighignola’s uninterrupted views of the lakes were worth the (gray) hair-raising turns. From our tourist-free aerie, we could see Lake Lugano, the city of Lugano, and the Swiss Alps, all at once.

We hovered there longer than we anticipated, mesmerized by the panorama of the lakes, and the mountain peaks that kissed the clouds. An elderly Italian woman appeared from a small wooden shack, with a better-than-expected espresso. This shouldn’t have been a surprise. After all, this is Italy, a country whose self-worth is inherently coffee-based.

Population 7, 10, or 11?

Blindly following our Lonely Planet through another series of sharp switchbacks, we headed towards Erbonne, in the commune of San Fedele d’Intelvi. This pre-roman, 3000-year-old, pin-prick of a village was once smugglers crossing between Italy and Switzerland. It was off-the-beaten-path, even by Lonely Planet standards.

We were on a mission to find Osteria del Valico, the sole restaurant of Erbonne for the past 100 years. As of 2017, Wikipedia stated that the village of Erbonne had eleven inhabitants. Other sources claimed the population was anywhere from seven to ten. Regardless of the facts, this was a place worth finding.

Erbonne’s best/only lunch

With a total of 50 buildings (a combination of houses and stables) what Erbonne lacks in structure, it makes up for in ultra-rustic beauty. Erbonne, on the edge of the Swiss border, is surrounded by layers of overlapping mountains, and a verdant, green patchwork of fields.

The village has no parking. I don’t mean ‘it was hard to find a parking space’. I mean literally, there is no parking. Not to be deterred, we left the car outside of the village and walked. Wispy, yellow, grasses lined our path, and created a colorful backdrop to the simple pink, red, and white, homes clumped in the near distance.

Climbing roses stuck firmly to painted walls. Patches of struggling wildflowers clung to dear life on crumbling edifices. Flowers poured out of semi-neglected window boxes. In Erbonne, time seemed to stand eerily still.

Carbo-loading in Erbonne

Osteria del Valico was easy to find. After all, it was the only restaurant in the village. Ancient, gnarly, wisteria vines had taken permanent ownership of the osteria’s once-white facade. Wooden steps, warped by time, led to the humble tavern entrance.

We were guided through the original ‘shabby chic’ dining room towards the outdoor patio. The wide, planked floors had undoubtedly seen decades of foodies pass over them. Crooked black and white photo frames, filled with patrons from days long gone, adorned the walls. Lacy curtains, a collection of vintage ladles, and a chalkboard-scrawled menu made the grandmother’s closet vibe that much more charming.

From the patio, we heard musical Italian laughter coming from a table within. The unmistakable sounds of friends with a long, comfortable history. I had noted the large group earlier. It was entirely possible that every known villager was having lunch there that day! Church bells chimed the hour in the distance. We settled in.

The House Special

Lonely Planet declared that Osteria del Valico’s house specialty was pizzoccheri. Never one to argue with our travel bible, we promptly ordered. If it was good enough for the seven, ten, or eleven, locals of Erbonne, it was good enough for us. It turned out to be one of our best dishes on the trip. Surprise!

Pizzoccheri is a buckwheat pasta (80% buckwheat flour, 20% wheat flour), along the lines of tagliatelle, usually cooked with greens and cubed potatoes (carbs on top of carbs). It is layered in various kinds of cheese, like Valtellina Casera and ground Parmigiano Reggiano, before being dressed with garlic and fried lightly in butter.

I swore I couldn’t eat it all, and I kept swearing—until I ate it all. How often do I get to have lightly fried pasta, I rationalized. Oh, and did I mention the charcuterie board piled high with Italian meats, and rustic Italian bread, that we had already consumed? I made a mental note to cancel dinner.

A family affair in bucolic Erbonne

Osteria del Valico has changed locations over the years, and by 2002, had settled into a stone house on the edge of town. We met the chef/owner, his wife, and his daughter, as well as a Swiss couple who had driven over for lunch from Geneva. Ahhhh, to live in Europe.

The chef, wearing a bad-ass skull patterned beret (that is if a beret can ever be considered bad-ass), and his wife, were engaging, warm, and friendly, despite the language barrier. In an effort to communicate, we attempted to find a common language. Eventually, French triumphed, as both my husband and the chef were fluent.

Found Moments in Erbonne

Osteria del Valico has very little in the way of web presence. Aside from a few Trip Advisor comments, and a simple webpage, it is virtually off the Google grid. A place like this; challenging to find, with simple fare, and a convivial vibe, is what I call, a true ‘lost and found’ moment.

It’s likely true that not everyone will find this kind of day trip as exciting as we did. Not everyone gets a thrill from seeking out a lone restaurant, in a tiny village, with an unknown population, with the hope of uncovering the undiscovered. We are those people.

Exploring a combination of experiences when visiting a place with as much hype and hyperbole as Lake Como, gave our trip more depth. I relished the juxtaposition of the obvious and the hidden. Both have a place in Lake Como and its bucolic surroundings. Why not have a bit of each? Chances are, you will be pleasantly surprised.

Find it:

Osteria del Valico: https://osteriadelvalico.business.site/
Balcony of Italy: https://www.atlasobscura.com/places/balcony-of-italy-balcone-ditalia

August 9, 2018
Cumbria. Many Lakes. One Star.

The Lake District may be England’s best kept secret.

The Lake District, England /

Dungeon Ghyll, Crinkle Crags and Harrison Stickle. No, these aren’t characters from a Harry Potter novel, they are the illustrious names for ravines and peaks in the majestic Lake District of England. Where, if you are American, you won’t see a fellow countryman for days and wonder why this place has seemingly escaped our radar. It is a mere four hour drive from London, which by US standards, is a typical Sunday outing. Some might say, well we have Vermont, or the Finger Lakes, and while those are truly gorgeous lake areas in the US, what we don’t possess are the fairytale hamlets, the tall, spired edifices and the Hobbitt-like thatched rooftop villages that accompany the lakes of Cumbria. Rolling hills, a patched quilt of vivid yellows and lush greens, ancient slate, hand-built stone walls that act as property dividers weaving like a thread throughout the landscape. It is a scene from another era.



Living the fairytale

Our first day in Cumbria started with a leisurely drive to the village of Grasmere, where we lined up for freshly baked squares of gingerbread in the very place that gingerbread was invented back in 1854 by Sarah Nelson. We were far from the only ones waiting patiently at the old stone house where she perfected her recipe (and later kept handwritten in a bank vault) and the spicy sweet combination did not disappoint! The streets we walked were long and winding, the stream banks lined with sheep. We ambled past the eroding tombstone of William Wordsworth and the very daffodil fields that inspired his famous poem.

The remainder of the day was spent driving up and around roads (a generous term!) that are supposed to accommodate two cars but can barely fit one, a virtual game of shark as we held our breath around each curve, praying no one was coming from the other direction. There is no shoulder, no give—in fact only stone walls, so that if you do come face to face with another car, (and you will) someone has to back up indefinitely in order to let the other pass. And here I thought the hiking was going to be the most treacherous part of the trip!

Meandering our way around the snake-like roads that hug the lakes, trying to find the elusive, and unfortunately for us, closed in June, car ferry to take us back to our hotel, we stumbled upon Wray Castle. Best seen from the outside than in, it is a Gothic Revival castle that was built in 1840. The grounds and exterior are beautiful but the inside was never restored to it’s 19c glory and is disappointingly used mainly as an exhibition space and for kid’s events.

The peaks of Cumbria

We were told that there are maybe fifteen days a year of cloudless skies in the Lake District, and we were lucky enough to get them, especially since we had a few days of strenuous hiking ahead. Our past track records for hiking having not been so fortunate, hiking three plus hours to the summit only to see a lovely view of drizzle and fog. My husband told me after our trip that at least three people and a dog were blown to their death off Helvellyn last year due to weather conditions. I’m relieved not to have known that sobering fact earlier. But in our case, the UK weather reported, “another glorious day with spells of unbroken sunshine.” British weather reports are truly inspired.

Orrest Head was a warm-up hike the day before our trek up to Helvellyn, which is the third tallest peak in England. There we saw panoramic views of Windermere Lake and various peaks in the distance. We could just make out a string of sailboats in the distance as we took a seat on a wooden bench and admired the hushed landscape, the immense sky swallowing the sun, the birdsong in the foreground and the baa-ing of sheep in the background. The well-known British fellwalker (well-known mainly in the UK, I’m guessing), Alfred Wainwright, wrote of Orrest Head, ‘…quite suddenly, we emerged from the shadow of the trees and were on a bare headland, and, as though a curtain had dramatically been torn aside, beheld a truly magnificent view…”

Spending time in Crook

We checked into our room at our hotel, The Gilpin, which is located in the fantastically named village of Crook in County Cumbria. The Gilpin is a place of opposites. At first a lovely old historic inn with 26 rooms and a Michelin-starred restaurant, and second, a modern feat of architecture, with separate unique, geometric stand alone rooms made of wood and glass, cedar hot tubs and modern amenities, somehow living together in harmony in this bucolic part of the country. It has been family run for 100 years, and you immediately feel as if you are part of their family.



The communal sitting areas, complete with coffee tables and books, comfy chairs and sofas on which to nap, make you feel as if you are in your own home. There is an inviting and elegant bar, wine room, and a gorgeous garden patio to have pre-dinner drinks and canapés. The owners are always wandering around and happy to chat about your day. The atmosphere is as warm and inviting as you could possibly want.

Our room had a spacious outdoor patio and a two-person round cedar hot tub that was sunken into the deck and somehow always at the perfect temperature. Bamboo and other wildflowers dotted the property, the air was dry and sunny, and it was nearly impossible to drag ourselves to the 60 second walk to dinner that evening.

A star among the lakes

Part of the allure of Gilpin, other than it’s lovely location nestled in the heart of the lakes, was the on-site restaurant HRiSHi, which boasts a Michelin star, among other awards, for it’s executive chef Hrishikesh Desai. Never ones to pass on a chef’s tasting menu (wine-paired!), we put ourselves in the chef’s hands for the night.



As a true nod to the chef’s talent, it was the first time we have ever chosen a vegetarian tasting menu. It was just too good to pass up, even for a carnivore like me. So we split the difference, my husband ordering the Signature Tasting Menu and me ordering the vegetarian option. Highlights were many, too many to count, but if I had to pick, the Lemon Gnocchi with marinated halloumi and wild mushrooms over cépe foam, paired with a delicate Albarino from Rias Baixas, Spain was an instant favorite. That, as well as the Wye Valley Asparagus, with pickled mushrooms and saffron aioli, on toasted almond cream, paired with a lovely white from Puglia, Italy. Each course more decadent and artfully designed than the last. Two plus hours later we trekked the 60 second uphill back to our room, wondering how we were going to manage in the morning.

Tackling Helvellyn

The next day started off with a lovely breakfast in a sun-lit room in the main house before we drove to the base of Helvellyn in Ambleside. I overheard a grandmother, who sounded eerily like Maggie Smith, explaining to her granddaughter, the game of cricket, “Nothing much happens. And it takes about three days to do it. “



It was a gorgeous day and once at the top, we were assured we’d be able to see as far as the Irish Sea. We reached the trailhead via Kirkstone Pass, which was a road with one of the most dramatic views of the Lake District. At that time of day, it was just us and the cyclists, which made the drive even more serene, the lakes seemingly frozen in time and the reflections razor sharp. We parked, and then began our trek along the Hobbit-like countryside, passing wildflowers, sheep, lambs, waterfalls and streams, stone walls that curled along the route like a miniature Great Wall of China, watching the villages recede further into the distance as we gained altitude and took in the drama of it all. Two and half hours of uphill later, we found ourselves scrambling over the jagged rocks and tricky knife edge ridge known on the map as Striding Edge, the place where some have met an untimely death. ‘Striding’ seemed a bit too ambitious a term, as I was on all fours, refusing to look any way but dead ahead, and cursing my husband underneath my breath.

Thankfully there was no wind and conditions were in our favor, but admittedly it was the most exhilarating part of the hike, every sense on high alert to make it at last to the summit at 3,120 feet, passing high above the Red Tarn and looking down into the valleys. Truth be told, the views were worth every gray hair I earned that day. The way down, the hike making a natural loop, was a little more leisurely, apart from the scramble along Swirral Edge, and filled with the most verdant of landscapes. Foxgloves popped out like hot purple pokers from in and around the ancient stone walls. The villages materialized, and civilization and a cold beer were in our immediate sights.

world cup: England v. Belgium

The last night of our time in the Lake District was spent at the casual restaurant at Gilpin, The Spice House, watching England lose to Belgium in a group match during the World Cup. I was assured this loss didn’t matter, which was confirmed as no one seemed particularly upset by it. The Indian menu was a nice contrast to our previous meals and the atmosphere relaxed and casual. We ordered a bottle of Grüner Veltliner and settled in for the match. Being as far north as we were, it amazed me to see light still clinging to the sky at nearly 11pm.

The next day was an early rise and on to the next stop of our European journey. In some ways, I felt like the sole American discoverer of the glorious Lake District. I would encourage anyone to add it to their bucket list of travels while in the UK, as it is a fairy-tale inspired moment in time you will not easily forget. As we headed out of town, one last moment of being wonderstruck by the rolling hills, mountains, valleys, hamlets and mirror-calm lakes, I saw a sign for The Sun Inn and smiled. Maybe I was in a Harry Potter novel after all.

Want to find out what’s hot before anyone else? Click here.

Five Reasons to get lost:

• Spending time pre-dinner on the patio at the Gilpin and watching mama birds feed their babies under the eaves.
• The hair-raising drives around the lakes, wanting to watch the view but needing to watch the roads!
• Making it to the summit of Helvellyn on a rare sunny day and popping open a well-deserved can of Coke.
• Having warm gingerbread at the birthplace of gingerbread, then roaming the very streets that Wordsworth and Beatrix Potter once walked.
• Hearing phrases like ‘dilly-dally’ and ‘higgledy-piggledy’ used in every day conversation.

Where will you find yourself next?

Consider a short flight from London to Milan and head to Lake Como for a few days.

Live in an ancient 15th c. village in Montenegro while overlooking the Adriatic Sea.

Take on the Medina, and more, in Marrakech.

July 15, 2018
8 Amazing Days Exploring Cape Town, South Africa

Wandering Cape Town and the Western Cape of South Africa /

About 15 years ago my husband came back from a trip to Cape Town and declared it one of his favorite cities in the world. A bold and hyperbolic statement from an otherwise understated and pretty well-traveled guy. Fast forward a few years and I can’t disagree.

If there was ever a city that had it all, Cape Town is hard to beat. Beaches, museums, lush wine lands, world-class restaurants, and hotels. Unique ethnic neighborhoods, a hot urban city center, a lively waterfront, and a richly textured culture and history. All set within view of Cape Town’s centerpiece, majestic Table Mountain. City, country, and seaside collide in what is possibly one of the most breathtaking settings a city can offer.

We spent eight leisurely days exploring Cape Town and its surroundings and could have happily added more. Rarely do we spend more than three nights in any given city, preferring the countryside or beaches to an urban bustle. But Cape Town defied that thinking. We still left much unseen, including a trip to the top of the iconic Table Mountain, which was one of our highest priorities.

Due in part to the crowds, and the ever-changing weather that produced the aptly named ‘tablecloth’ cloud draping the mountain, we didn’t get a chance to catch the sweeping aerial views of the city. As my husband so optimistically noted, it gives us a reason to come back.

Camp’s Bay, a seaside treasure

We started our trip at Camp’s Bay, a trendy suburb of Cape Town. An eleven-suite boutique hotel on the beach. With a backdrop of the Twelve Apostles mountain range on one side and the mighty Lion’s Head on the other, it made for eye-popping views in every direction. Being winter in South Africa, the beaches were somewhat empty, but it was warm enough to take leisurely walks along the bay.

The Marly Hotel

The Marly Hotel is a great seaside find. Modern with an art deco edge, white and simple. Some rooms have large balconies facing either the water or the mountains. It’s tucked away on the second floor of an unassuming beachfront promenade of shops and restaurants. Buzzing sidewalk cafe culture takes over at this beachy retreat.

The Marly has a cozy sitting area off the lobby complete with a library of books, a Nespresso machine, and DVDs for the taking. Wandering around the Marly, I felt like I was in a friend’s home rather than at a hotel. Just outside its front door is barefoot beach life in full swing.

Exploring Cape Town’s Bo Kaap

We spent our days exploring the unique neighborhoods of the city. Bo Kaap became an instant favorite. Bo Kaap is a Muslim community that is defined by its many narrow and cobbled streets of bright and cheerfully colorful buildings. Pinks, oranges, greens, and purples create a virtual rainbow of architecture set against the backdrop of Table Mountain. It was a photo opportunity at every corner. The building’s colors bounce dramatically off of the royal blue sky and layered puffy clouds.

The V&A Waterfront in Cape Town

We also wandered the touristy Victoria and Albert Waterfront in Cape Town. It’s an interesting mix of hotels, markets, shops, museums, and even a large Ferris Wheel for a bird’s eye view of the area. We passed Nobel Square, a monument to South Africa’s four Nobel Peace Prize Laureates. The bronze sculptures are larger than life. They pay tribute to Nkosi Albert Luthuli, Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu, former State President FW de Klerk, and former President Nelson Mandela.

As jet lag worked in our favor that morning, we caught the early ferry to Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela was incarcerated for 27 years. It was declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1999. If you have the chance, book the Robben Island tour well in advance, as it is understandably one of the busiest sites in the city.

Inmate Tour at Robben Island

A former inmate took us on a tour of the island, which was simultaneously harrowing and inspiring. A living museum in many ways, penguins still waddle around the bleak paths. We passed the rock quarry where Mandela labored for countless years. I could almost sense the ghosts of the past. It was a somber experience and gave great context to a remarkable and humble man.

We saw Robben Island on a grim and windy day, which certainly added to the drama of the story our guide/inmate told. We were able to walk into Mandela’s cell for a moment and catch a second of panic as to how it might feel to be trapped there.

On our way back to the harbor, the ferry captain slowed down and made a sharp turn, as he spotted a whale nearby. Everyone ran to the port side to catch a glimpse. After the whale had retreated into the water, the ferry captain made a wide turn, and slowly Table Mountain reappeared in the distance. We were transported back to our independent and free lives.

Testing World-Class Restaurants in Cape Town

It just so happens that two of the best restaurants in the world, according to the San Pellegrino list of the World’s Best Restaurants, are located in Cape Town. I had known the Test Kitchen (#50 on the San Pellegrino list, 2018) was a nearly impossible reservation to get and had turned away even A-List celebs who didn’t go through the proper process.

I also knew that it was unlikely, given the time difference between DC and Cape Town, that I would get through by phone at exactly 8am one month to the day of the reservation date. On a whim, I emailed the Marly Hotel and told them our dates, and asked if they could possibly help. Sure enough, they came through with flying colors. Never underestimate the power of a great hotel concierge!

The Test Kitchen Delivers

The Test Kitchen was a mesmerizing dining experience. We first entered a ‘dark’ room lounge for cocktails and our first series of bite-sized courses. We were presented with a rolled-up parchment map that visually showed from where in the world each of our next courses was inspired. Then, we were escorted to a wooden door with a brass portal. After a sharp knock, we entered the ‘light’ room, where we continued our meal amidst the bright bustle of chef Luke Dale-Roberts’ open kitchen.

A dining experience full of contrasts – from the atmosphere to the sound, to the food. Each course builds upon the last, artfully and whimsically presented. The highlight bite of all bites is the insane Billionaire Shortbread. A dazzling and unexpected combination of chili, dark chocolate, and duck. Suspend your disbelief and trust the chef, as it may be the best single bite you ever eat.

Galleries and boutiques in Woodstock

On our way to dinner that evening, we found ourselves wandering the warehouse-like neighborhood of Woodstock. The Old Biscuit Mill now houses the restaurant, along with a crop of uber-trendy cafes and boutiques. Most were closed at that time of night, except for a brightly lit storefront.

Handmade pottery lined the shelves throughout the minimal artist space. We walked in and were fortunate enough to meet the two lovely resident artists of Imiso Ceramics (Andile Dyalvane and Zizipho Poswa) whose work surrounded us.

We fell in love with their work and went back the following morning with the intent to buy. One particularly intriguing collection of Mr. Dyalvane called ‘Scarified’ is an interpretation of a Xhosa ritual of scarring the skin. The clay of the vessels represents the cut skin. It is both haunting and beautiful simultaneously.

Accidental Dining at La Colombe

A few days later, we found ourselves at La Colombe (#73 on the San Pellegrino list, 2017) by accident. We had been in Constantia for the morning wine tasting and needed a lunch spot. La Colombe had caught our eye earlier on the drive. We knew nothing about it and certainly didn’t realize that people reserved so far in advance to dine there. They told us they were fully booked for lunch, but they had just had a dinner cancellation for that evening.

We took advantage of the opportunity and found ourselves there five hours later enjoying an unforgettable meal. Complete with one course that took us from our table, behind a secret door, and into a room that can be best described as Alice in Wonderland meets Chef’s Table.

Setting the dinner stage

The mystery room had floor-to-ceiling green living walls, koi ponds, miniature gardens, and a Mad Hatter mixing drinks in the corner. We had two imaginative courses in this tiny hideaway before heading back into the otherwise formal dining room. It felt like we stepped into an alternate universe for a few minutes.

Another distinct epicurean moment came soon after. This course was served on an ultra-thin white square plate, with pale green gelatin at the base. When we finished, a hidden message was revealed underneath that read: “Food is our theater. We hope you enjoy the show.” A memorable and apt quote from La Colombe, where we were the actors in the show.

Truth in Cape Town

The next morning, we made a necessary detour into Truth Coffee, which boasts itself as having the best coffee in the world. Signs berated us for using sugar. It’s not allowed, or available. The atmosphere is snobby warehouse chic. Exposed duct work, bare bulbs dangling from ultra-high ceilings. An industrial yet surprisingly warm vibe.

We settled in for cappuccinos and pastries. This is the kind of place where time has no meaning, as it is busy from morning until night. But being a person who loves a little sugar in my cappuccino, I will have to remember to smuggle it in next time.

Cape Town’s One & Only

A few days later, we moved from Camp’s Bay to the One & Only Cape Town on the V&A Waterfront. The One & Only is centrally located and with magnificent views of Table Mountain. We were unexpectedly upgraded to an Island Suite that was set back from the main hotel on a small inlet accessible by bridges. The rooms are thoughtfully appointed, and beautifully modern while still warm and inviting in rich earth tones. An oasis within an oasis!

The V&A Waterfront area feels much more touristy and carnival-like but is still very worth a wander as it has access to Robben Island, shopping, museums, and markets, and is super high energy. It also has easy access to various neighborhoods to soak up the local vibe.

Rosie’s kitchen, feeding kids in the townships

While meandering around the energized waterfront, it is easy to forget that there is undeniably much poverty in Cape Town. The townships (the poverty-stricken areas on the outskirts of the city) are a heartbreaking contrast to the affluent suburbs. We had the opportunity to spend a few hours in the township of Khaleshita. On our way, we stopped at a market to buy produce for Rosie’s Soup Kitchen.

Rosie feeds hundreds of kids each morning before school in a kitchen that is smaller than our hotel’s bathroom. It was a sobering and heart-warming experience. To see how far the money could go, and how many kids it could feed. To see the determination and love that Rosie had for the kids of the township. And mostly, to see how happy the kids were despite challenging life circumstances.

Having it all, in Cape Town

We then traveled south, to the southwesternmost point of Africa, the Cape of Good Hope. Cliffside hiking, on and off rickety wooden planks, along the Atlantic Ocean. We followed ostriches and other wild animals. It was a great way to walk off our decadent meals. The scenery was awe-inspiring and the air was crisp and clean. We then went further south to Boulders Bay, where we fell in love with the hundreds of African penguins that live there.

The area is cordoned off so that they can live peacefully, and we spent hours watching them frolic and waddle around in their natural habitat. Being separated from the penguins by natural wooden fencing, it was easy to feel like we were the zoo animals and the penguins were watching us as entertainment.

Oprah Winfrey has been quoted as saying, “You can have it all. Just not all at once.” Maybe Oprah had not yet traveled to Cape Town, where you can truly have it all, at once.

June 19, 2018
Dunton Hot Springs, A Home away from Home
Dunton Hot Springs is a remote getaway filled with wildlife and hiking adventures, farm-to-table meals, and a western vibe that had us dreaming of simpler times. Dunton Hot Springs—a little escape from reality in the cool, breezy San Juan mountains of Colorado.

Remote, restorative, and secluded, are buzzwords that have always piqued my curiosity when reading about travel, but never as much as they do at this particular moment in time. I long for fresh air and wide-open spaces. I have a pressing need to immerse myself in Mother Nature, or in a cozy room with a blanket, and a heart-pumping page-turner. These travel longings have zoomed, no pun intended, to the top of my bucket list. I crave the creature comforts of home, but somewhere that is anywhere but my home.

Likely, I am not alone in these cravings, or in these wistful dreams of travel. I’d like to sink into a bed made of clouds, without having to make it in the morning. I’d like to feast upon a wholesome, home-cooked meal. Yet, I don’t want to go food shopping, Instacart, or clean dishes, afterward. I’d love to open windows onto a field of wildflowers and hear horses neighing in the distance, rather than the sirens that often pierce the silence of my neighborhood’s otherwise quiet streets.

Hello, Dunton!

Tucked away in the southwest corner of Colorado, along the west fork of the Dolores River, and at nearly 9,000 ft, sits Dunton Hot Springs. My family visited Dunton a few summers ago, and I have been wondering why this particular place, of all places, is calling me back. Maybe it’s because Dunton, quite naturally, delivers on that precise home away from home feeling I am currently craving.

The cluster of rustic log cabins at Dunton Hot Springs felt like a throwback to another era or the set of an old-time western film. A collection of fourteen mining town log cabins of various shapes and sizes dotted the expansive property, some of which had been gently relocated from other parts of Colorado. Its vast1500 acres, flanked by majestic mountains, cool waterfalls, and the serpentine Dolores River, together provided a natural playground for the multitude of activities Dunton offered.

The inherent beauty of Dunton Hot Springs was evident from every angle. Look left—sprawling fields of buttercups stood vibrant and golden against the snow-capped mountains in the distance. Look right—on-property trails led to an ice-cold gushing waterfall that was heard long before it was seen. The air was cleaner and clearer, and all of our senses were as elevated as the mountaintops we looked out upon.

Dining In, and Out

Our first meal was at a weather-beaten picnic table on the deck outside of the saloon, a welcome way to settle in after two flights, and a scenic two-hour drive. A row of hummingbird feeders along the porch swayed gently in the crisp breeze. We watched intently as these tiny, mighty, birds vied for space to feed—buzzing, whirling, and hovering, all at once. Every so often, a larger hummingbird would sharply dart towards a feeder, bumping a smaller one down the line. Bullying—acceptable behavior in the avian world.

It was an amusing sideshow to our hearty, multi-course lunch, an added touch of theater. The food, with a new, locally-sourced menu prepared daily, was to be a big part of our western adventure. We dined on local elk, and roasted vegetables from their farm—the first of many enticing meals we were to enjoy during our stay. Preparation took place in the open-plan kitchen, where guests were encouraged to watch and ask questions while the chef created the day’s feast.

In the evenings, we gathered at the original, old-fashioned bar in the saloon to meet up with the bartender, and critique his latest cocktail. Oversized picture books of architecture, photography, and nature, lay atop a low coffee table for us to peruse. The kids headed outside to climb on a rusted-out tractor-trailer, or play ring toss. A recently lit bonfire soared nearby, sheepskin throws waited on benches for cold shoulders to warm. The scene called for the gooey s’mores we were destined to devour later.

Later, we were seated at a long, communal, wooden farmhouse table, where we would relay the day’s events, or lack thereof, to the other guests. A wagon-wheel light fixture hovered overhead, lights flickering. While some guests told tales of fly fishing, or their hike through the spruce and aspen forests, others had been content to spend the day reading or soaking in the natural hot springs for which the resort is known.

RElaxing at every turn

Likely discovered by the Ute Native Americans, the soothing hot springs are a true focal point and highlight of the property. Resting somewhere between 85 and 106 degrees in temperature, part of the spring is enclosed within a 19th-century bathhouse. Steam rose ethereally towards the vaulted ceilings, and gently fogged the tall glass-framed wall. A low-slung hammock, high-end bath products, and plush towels seemed wholly designed to keep us in a never-ending state of deep relaxation.

The outdoor area of the spring had unobstructed views of the San Juan mountains. Since the bathhouse and springs can be used at any hour of the day, we were able to watch the sky turn from subtle shades of blue to inky black, over the course of the night. Stars blinked hello. It was so silent, I didn’t trust it.

Rooms with a View

The decor of the cabins at Dunton is classic Americana and had homespun touches like flannel blankets, and patterned rugs with hues of rich reds and federal blues. Vintage snowshoes might hang on the wall of one cabin, while framed vintage western movie posters may be on another.

The cabin named Dolores, for instance, boasted an original Rajsthan wedding bed, as well as a large, private viewing deck. The Dunton Store, one of the pet-friendly cabins, had its own private hot spring and a gas stove. Christy’s Tent prided itself on its magnificent view from the oversized shower. The cabins varied in size so that regardless of how many guests were in your group, you were likely to find a great fit.

The Potter House

Since we were traveling with another family to Dunton, we opted for the Potter House, which slept ten people, and was adjacent to a lively beaver pond. The Potter House has five bedrooms and 3.5 baths laid out over three levels, a large kitchen, wraparound decks with 360 views, and all the cozy comforts a log cabin could muster. The fireplace was a welcomed luxury as it took the edge off of the cool, dry June nights.

One morning, we opted out of any formal activities in favor of a ‘day to do nothing’ at our cabin. We called down to the saloon and asked if we could have some essential items brought up to accompany the ‘nothing’ we were planning to accomplish. Within 30 minutes, we had two bottles of rosé, four glasses, and enough chocolate and salty snacks to keep us in place for the afternoon.

As we relaxed into our day, the kids went rogue. They climbed into an old tractor overrun with dandelions near the stables. They played corn hole and volleyball. They ran, they biked, stirred up the hot springs, and swayed in the hammock. It was a detox from our electronically-controlled lives. The old-fashioned setting suited us in a way we could never have imagined.

Do everything or do nothing at all

As tempting as it was to have another day of ‘nothing’, we managed to get out and experience the nature we traveled so far enjoy. We ambled up into the mountains, traversed streams, watched for bears, and eventually stomped through lingering mushy, melting, mountaintop snow. Horseback riding, mountain biking, and rock climbing were available to those of us who wanted a bigger rush of adrenaline. I was happiest in the hot springs, or on the deck, where I watched a mama bird source food for her babies that lived in a nest under the eaves of Potter House. Nature was the main event, and it fed into every moment, big and small.

A Place for all Seasons

It wasn’t very surprising to recently discover that Dunton Hot Springs made Conde Nast’s coveted Gold List this year. A well-deserved accolade for a former sleepy mining town, far removed from civilization, nestled high in the San Juan mountains.

Although we visited Dunton Hot Springs in the summer, it is the kind of place that I imagine offers up a completely unique experience with each season. The landscape lends itself to endless activities and ways to relax. While we usually don’t find ourselves repeating the same trip twice, just this once, I could be tempted. The wide-open spaces are calling.

I think back to that summer at Dunton and the memory snapshots that made it so unforgettable. I can’t help but come back to the buzzwords that drew me there in the first place; remote, restorative, secluded. And the refrain that continues to echo in my mind—a home away from home.

Want to be the first to know when I find a new place to get lost?

Click here.

Just Pin it:

Five reasons to get lost:
- Coming upon a herd of ‘wild cows’ during our river camp hike.
- Discovering the cocktail of the night at the saloon each evening.
- Watching a hawk, having just caught a snake in its beak, fly gracefully overhead.
- Nightly fire pit complete with all the makings for s’mores.
- Feel like you are living in a ghost town for a few days and being completely unplugged.
June 14, 2017

Your cart (items: 0)

Products in cart
Product	Details	Total
	Available on backorder Previous price: Discounted price:	Save