World's Best Boutique Hotels

OPTION 1 All-Inclusive If your first priority is bonding rather than sightseeing, all-inclusive resorts are a no-stress answer. Iberostar (iberostar.com) has moderately priced choices in Mexico, the Dominican Republic, and Jamaica. Ask for a group discount if you're reserving 10 or more rooms. Infants, Young kids, Teens, Elderly relatives, Wheelchair users OPTION 2 Cruise Many cruise lines have minimum-age requirements, so ask before booking if you're traveling with an infant. But most new and large ships do accommodate wheelchairs; arrange through Accessible Journeys, which specializes in wheelchair travel (800/846-4537). Young kids, Teens, Elderly relatives, Wheelchair users OPTION 3 Camping The great outdoors can be a good destination for families traveling with animals. International campground chain KOA (koa.com) allows pets at all of its locations, although each one has its own specific policy—for example, some don't let dogs stay inside cabins—and all require leashes. Young kids, Teens, Pets OPTION 4 Adventure Active trips help keep fidgety teens' moods from souring as the days stretch on. Look into sea kayaking, wildlife exploration, and volcano hiking with Thomson Family Adventures (familyadventures.com). There are trips for kids as young as 6, and those 11 and under get deep discounts. Young kids, Teens

When your car is suddenly airborne, like the General Lee in a Dukes of Hazzard rerun, and your mother-in-law and two daughters are screaming at the top of their lungs, your multigenerational family vacation in Mexico isn't exactly off to a great start. We were on our way to a villa on the beach in Tankah Tres, a small bay on the Yucatán Peninsula near Tulum: me; my husband, Jonathan; our two kids, Josie and Maxine; and my in-laws, Betsy and Jordan. My brother, Andy; his daughter, Shirley; and my mom, Carol, would be meeting us there for a week of warm-weather family bonding. (Neal, my brother-in-law, couldn't get as much time off work and had to join us midway through the trip.) The plan was all mine. I'd picked the destination, planned the itinerary, and cajoled everyone into coming. I'd chosen Tankah Tres because it offered the various elements that members of our quirky group craved: easy access from New York and Chicago, a beach, vegetarian dining options, and some history. Alas, as the perpetually-under-construction highway south from the Cancún airport bounced us around in the night over unseen speed bumps, I was terrified I'd made a huge mistake. I felt silent accusation in the car. I hoped I was imagining it. About an hour and a half later, we finally turned onto the dirt road that led to the villa, and the tension lifted instantly. The house, Casa Caribeña, was the color of a ripe mango and partitioned from the road by a small fence made of lacquered coconuts skewered on posts. I'd found the place online, and it wasn't a steal—we paid $5,950 for the week of Christmas, the only time we could all get away—but it was huge, with six bedrooms spread out over two floors, and a private beachfront patio. (I rationalized the price by telling myself it worked out to just $142 per room per night—not too bad for all we were getting.) As Josie and Maxine raced around, gaping at our small swimming pool, brightly colored hammocks, and (to my canine-less kids' endless delight) two sweet-tempered guard dogs, I claimed the keys from Lily, the caretaker and cook, whose own home was just down the driveway. Although the kitchen was fully equipped and Lily's cooking services were included in the price of the rental, we had no groceries on hand, so we headed to a restaurant for our first dinner. Of the two options within walking distance of the house, reviewers on the local listings and message boards site locogringo.com had favored Blue Sky Restaurant, an open-air, thatched-roof Italian place run by expats. The wood-burning pizza oven, housed in its own palapa, was a hit; 4-year-old Maxine's homemade pasta, with sauce made from fresh local cherry tomatoes rather than the familiar red canned stuff, elicited confused sobs. ("It's owange!") Our waiter, Luca, dashed back into the kitchen, dropped a dollop of pizza sauce on the plate, and ran back to the table. "Now ees red!" he told her, and she dug in happily. When Blue Sky's credit card machine shut down, Luca waved us away, saying, "Come back and pay another time! I trust you!" So we returned to the villa, full and content, and went to sleep, lulled by the sound of the waves. The next morning, we all got out of bed and gasped. In daylight, the full beauty of the setting hit us. It felt like being on an ocean liner. The bay was electric blue, and upstairs there were sweeping sea views all the way to the horizon. Not that everything was perfect. The beach in front of the villa wasn't ideal for us: The sand was so-so, and there was a serious current in the water, with live coral all the way up to the edge of the shore. (I'd looked at houses on the calmer waters of Soliman Bay, but they were much more expensive than the one I chose.) My mother-in-law was disappointed, but I promised her we'd drive to some spectacular beaches nearby. We also quickly realized that 2-year-old Shirley was a loose cannon: She was irresistibly drawn to the red-hot tap on the purified-water dispenser, and over the course of our stay, she managed to turn on the broiler, nearly fell down the stairs, and tried to drink a cup of detergent stored under the sink. Anyone who travels with a toddler needs a sense of humor, nerves of steel, and a (daily) stiff drink. That afternoon, a few of us went out to pay the previous night's dinner bill and stock up on provisions at the Mega, a supermarket in Playa del Carmen, about 40 minutes away. Grocery stores are always a fun window into another culture—Packaging! Pricing! Snacks! Driving was far less intimidating during the day; the speed bumps still loomed, but we could at least see them and brace ourselves. We trained the girls to yell "TOPES!" (Spanish for "speed bumps") shortly before impact—a game they loved for the rest of the trip. But when we returned to the house, my mother was seething and Jordan was terrified that we had been killed. (We'd been gone for four hours and had left our only functioning cell phone back at the villa.) While we were discussing the communication problem, Mom took the opportunity to tell me she was worried that I'd overplanned; she wanted to be sure there was time simply to lounge on the beach and read. Still stinging from the response to our grocery outing, I bit my tongue and told her we could scale back. Andy noticed the tension and suggested he and I go for a walk to Casa cenote, a freshwater-filled sinkhole about five minutes away. I've always been the easily rattled sibling; he's Mr. Chill. Just being around him made me feel better about Mom and Jordan's being upset. It didn't hurt that, at the cenote, the water was crystal clear and we spotted dozens of birds in the dense trees: yellow-breasted great kiskadees, ospreys, and graceful great white egrets. That night, Mom and I sat down to rework the itinerary. We axed Coba, a Mayan ruin about 30 miles northwest of Tulum; it would have been tough for Jordan, who uses a cane, and for the two youngest kids. We also agreed to skip Xcaret and Xel-Ha, two popular eco-parks—too expensive and touristy—and replaced them with low-key half-day trips that Mom (and anyone else) was free to opt out of. We also resolved that, because driving at night was no fun, we'd eat big lunches out and smaller dinners at home, the way Mexicans do. And then we hugged. Per the revised plan, we spent the next day at Akumal, a nearby town with sarong shops, cute cafés, and a waveless beach where the kids dug an enormous water-filled hole in the sand and called it "Cenote Josie y Max." While snorkeling, Jonathan and I caught sight of a giant green sea turtle, and I felt that shiver of romance you get when you're wearing flippers, holding hands with your beloved, and seeing something completely thrilling. When it was time for lunch, we set out for town in shifts so we could keep our prime position on the Akumal beach, under a tree. Our one huge jaunt was the following day: an excursion with a Mayan ecotourism co-op, Community Tours Sian Ka'an, to the nearby 1.3-million-acre Sian Ka'an biosphere, the second-largest UNESCO protected marine area in Mexico. The guides, Antonio and Ladualina, took us to Muyil, a cluster of Mayan ruins in the jungle. Muyil was a major stop on the ancient Maya's maritime trade route, dating from 300 B.C., which makes it older than more famous sites such as Chichén Itzá and Tulum. And unlike those other sites, Muyil provides the opportunity to get right up next to the biggest structures. (Although a small sign warns against climbing the ruins, it's common for guides to look the other way.) Josie needed little prompting and scampered to the top of the roughly 50-foot El Castillo pyramid like a tree monkey. Maxine, always the more cautious sister, stayed earthbound, holding Grandma's hand. As the tour continued, Antonio told us some of his grandfather's stories about the Maya and taught the girls how to bellow "Ko'one'ex!" (Pronounced coh-nesh, it's Mayan for "Let's go!") An hour's hike through the jungle brought us to a pale-blue lagoon, where we boarded a motorboat and headed for a narrow canal, a 1,000-year-old passage hacked out of the saw grass and mangroves. There, we strapped on life jackets upside down (with our legs through the armholes), a trick Antonio showed us for adding buoyancy, and bobbed down the stream. We looked silly but had a great time—even wary Maxine. It was a very long day—eight hours—but the kids were enraptured. Not everyone fared so well: After negotiating the uneven, root-strewn jungle ground, Jordan's feet were bleeding. In the end, we were relieved we'd left Shirley at home with Neal and Andy, despite assurances from Community Tours that she would have enjoyed the trek. The three of them spent the day playing on the beach instead. We splintered further the next morning. Jordan relaxed with crossword puzzles by the pool, while Shirley and Carol made sand castles on the beach, Andy and Neal napped, and Betsy, Jonathan, Josie, Maxine, and I went to explore the ruins at Tulum. All of us but Jordan, who was still recuperating, met up later at Tulum's El Paraíso beach, a masterpiece of sugar-soft sand and postcard views. That evening, we gathered outside our villa under a pitch-black sky sparkling with stars. While the rest of us searched overhead for familiar reference points, Jonathan fired up his iPhone's Starmap application and began pointing out constellations. In spite of all our successful outings, by the end of the trip I was having trouble sleeping, worrying about my failings as the sole vacation planner. I knew Mom was annoyed at Jonathan for his inability to relinquish control in the kitchen, and Betsy was frustrated that I hadn't built enough shopping time into the schedule. I kicked myself for not encouraging her to hit the boutiques when we were in Akumal. In the morning, exhausted, I confided in Mom, who told me to chill out. "You're not responsible for everyone's feelings," she said simply. "And you can't fulfill everyone's needs all the time." I wished she'd reminded me of that earlier. Our final outing was to Aktun Chen, a limestone cave studded with stalactites, about 15 miles away. (When I paid with a 15-percent-off coupon I'd downloaded from the Internet, my family roundly mocked me.) The guide, Memo, led us to a 25-foot-deep underground cenote and then switched on a series of lights, illuminating different parts of the cave walls. One guest whispered, "It's like a cathedral!" Jonathan loved it; Maxine was bored out of her mind. Moments later, Jordan cut his hand on a bolt sticking out of a cave wall. I borrowed a first-aid kit from the tour operators, and as we sat on a battered picnic bench near the snack bar, taping up the wound, he began telling me about his World War II experiences. They were stories I'd never heard before—stories that gave me new insight into his life before I knew him. Times like those were what really made the trip worth it. I loved seeing Betsy cuddling with Maxine, reading stories to her. I loved watching my mom and Josie sprawled on lounge chairs, having a philosophical talk about friendship. Most of all, I loved going on adventures with my brother, just the two of us—just like when we were kids. LODGING Casa Caribeña Tankah Tres, Riviera Maya, 541/603-1484, homeaway.com, from $4,300 per week FOOD Lucy's Kitchen Plaza Ukana I, Akumal, lucyskitchen.net, ice cream from $2.75 Blue Sky Restaurant Lot 34, Tankah Bay, blueskymexico.com, pasta from $11.50 ACTIVITIES Community Tours Sian Ka'an Tulum Ave., Region 4, Manzana 8, Tulum, 011-52/984-871-2202, siankaantours.org, Muyil Forest and Float Tour $99 for adults, $70 for kids Aktun Chen Km 107, Hwy. Cancún-Tulum, Akumal, 011-52/984-109-2061, aktunchen.com, cave tour $25 for adults, $13 for kids

1. There aren't that many vineyards Although it has casually been dubbed California's wine country, Napa Valley is hardly the state's largest wine-producing region (that honor goes to San Joaquin Valley, 80 miles southeast). Napa's 400 wineries produce only 4 percent of the state's wine. The focus here is quality, not quantity. 2. A kitchen shop with character Shackford's Kitchen Store in downtown Napa has a seemingly endless selection of gleaming gizmos: cupcake molds, paella pans, cappuccino makers. But the most compelling item in the place is John Shackford himself, a true Napa legend who runs the shop with his wife, daughter, and granddaughter. At 80, Shackford works in the store six days a week, just as he has for the past 34 years, punching an antique cash register, hand-printing receipts, and calling his customers by first name. 1350 Main St., Napa, 707/226-2132. 3. A wine tour using legs, not limos In the town of Napa, 18 tasting rooms stand within easy walking distance of one another, and a $20 Taste Napa Downtown card gets you a pour at 13 of them. Officially, each winery is supposed to charge you 10¢ to do the tasting, but most won't take your dime. napadowntown.com. 4. The Preiser Key tells all Consider Monty and Sara Preiser your all-knowing wine country guides. They're the couple who in March 2007 launched The Preiser Key to Napa Valley, a free booklet that comes as close as possible to listing every Napa wine label (over 800) and restaurant (170)—but no chains! The Key also includes detailed maps of the region. They put out a new issue three times a year and distribute it all throughout the valley. preiserkey.com. 5. It's all casual, all the time In Napa, there's no such thing as a dress code, even in the poshest places. So that bearded guy in weathered blue jeans sitting at the next table? He's just the billionaire from next door. 6. Fainting goats. Yes, fainting goats In Calistoga, a town near the top of the valley known for its hot springs, there's a regularly erupting geyser called—you guessed it—Old Faithful. You'll want to tread lightly; the area near the geyser is also home to a herd of Tennessee fainting goats, a quirky breed with a nervous-system disorder that causes them to keel over (harmlessly and temporarily) when startled. 1299 Tubbs Ln., Calistoga, 707/942-6463, oldfaithfulgeyser.com, $10 adults, $3 kids 6–12. 7. Real sleeper cars At the recently refurbished Napa Valley Railway Inn, seven suites, fashioned from 100-year-old train cars, lie on the dormant tracks of the Napa Valley Railroad, which went out of passenger service in 1929. Black-and-white photos of the old Yountville train station adorn the walls, and the cupolas, once used as lookout posts by railway employees, serve as skylights. An eighth car, a quaint red caboose, was converted into a coffeehouse this summer. 6523 Washington St., Yountville, 707/944-2000, napavalleyrailwayinn.com, from $125. 8. The road less traveled When the traffic bottlenecks on Highway 29, Napa's central thoroughfare, find salvation on the 35-mile Silverado Trail, a pastoral road along the valley's eastern edge that's lined with world-class, often small-batch wineries whose labels you're unlikely to find at your local grocery store. silveradotrail.com. 9. The two-wheel option Founded 22 years ago, Napa Valley Bike Tours is an area fixture. Among the staff's favorite routes to lead you on is the Rutherford Loop, a 16-mile spin that meanders through the Rutherford and Oakville appellations, known for their cabernets, before depositing you back at the shop. If you'd rather go solo, you can pick up a map with other suggested routes. 6795 Washington St., Bldg. B, Yountville, 800/707-2453, napavalleybiketours.com, tours from $134, rentals $35 per day. 10. There's a respectable oil industry Forget grapes—olives are another treasured Napa crop. Round Pond Estate, one of the valley's top olive oil producers, offers guided tours that lead you from harvest to mill and culminate in tastings paired with cheese and freshly baked bread. 886 Rutherford Rd., Rutherford, 888/302-2575, roundpond.com, tours $25, by appointment. 11. Wineries double as art galleries A heart-shaped sculpture by pop artist Jim Dine greets visitors at Cliff Lede Vineyards, one of several wineries that put prized private collections on free display (1473 Yountville Cross Rd., Yountville, 800/428-2259, cliffledevineyards.com, tastings from $20). At Artesa Vineyards & Winery, a waterfall-flanked stairway leads to a tasting room that could pass for a museum. Credit artist-in-residence Gordon Huether, who mounts dramatic glass, metal, and canvas installations that change throughout the year (1345 Henry Rd., Napa, 707/224-1668, artesawinery.com, tastings from $10). 12. A vineyard tour with a third-generation owner The best Napa Valley wine tours go beyond the tasting room. At Gamble Family Vineyards, owner Tom Gamble takes you on a hay-bale ride through his organic and sustainable vineyards, on land his grandfather first farmed almost a century ago. This is no cookie-cutter tour; it's a chance to hear wine-making tales from a third-generation Napa native—and taste an old-vine Syrah and a robust cabernet. 707/944-2999, gamblefamilyvineyards.com, by appointment, free with suggested purchase of two to four bottles of wine, bottles from $25. 13. A supersize mineral bath The nearly Olympic-size pool at Indian Springs Resort and Spa, fed by geysers and infused with minerals, is naturally warm—typically 102 degrees in winter and 92 in summer—and preternaturally relaxing. A single spa treatment, like a vitamin C facial or a volcanic-ash mud bath, comes with an all-day pass to the pool. Rooms and cottages in the Spanish-style resort, many with private patios, are pictures of casual comfort. 1712 Lincoln Ave., Calistoga, 707/942-4913, indianspringscalistoga.com, treatments from $65, rooms from $185. 14. The valley's most awesome view The subtle drama of Napa is never more obvious than when you're sitting on a veranda on a hill overlooking the vineyards. Auberge du Soleil, a high-end resort on the eastern side of the valley, has one of the region's best spots for taking in the view. Forget booking a $575 (or more) room; a shaded terrace out back opens up onto the valley below, and everyone is welcome for sparkling wine at sunset or cappuccinos in the morning—the perfect time to take in hot-air balloons rising through the mist. 180 Rutherford Hill Rd., Rutherford, 707/963-1211, aubergedusoleil.com, sparkling wine from $13. 15. Even the malls are gourmet Founded by Steve Carlin (who helped start San Francisco's Ferry Building Marketplace), the Oxbow Public Market feels like it belongs in an epicurean fantasy. In a concrete building that calls to mind an industrial barn, 23 artisanal vendors sell everything from strawberry-balsamic ice cream (from Three Twins) to soothing oolong (Tillerman Tea) to peanut-butter-and-chocolate cupcakes (Kara's Cupcakes). 610 and 644 1st St., Napa, oxbowpublicmarket.com. 16. And even the beans are better here Rebosero. Flageolet. Black and white runners. In a world overrun with plain-tasting and industrially processed pinto beans, Steve Sando is committed to preserving heirloom legumes. His love for the earthy flavors of distinct organic strains has given rise to Rancho Gordo, a bean-centric specialty store whose coveted products can be found at top California markets and at restaurants across the country. 1924 Yahome St., Napa, 707/259-1935, ranchogordo.com, beans from $5 per pound. 17. A taco to remember No reservations required at La Luna Market & Taqueria, a home-style Mexican takeout counter. Get there before noon, at which point locals have already started to line up. Adventurous eaters swear allegiance to the smoldering tacos al pastor (spicy, marinated pork). 1153 Rutherford Rd., Rutherford, 707/963-3211, lalunamarket.com, tacos from $1.75. 18. Anything's possible House-made granola. Lavender-dusted almonds. Yoga gear. These are just a few of the things you can get at Ubuntu Annex, a tasting room and variety store that opened in June two doors down from its eclectic sister spot, chef Jeremy Fox's acclaimed vegetable restaurant (please, not "vegetarian") and yoga studio Ubuntu. 1130 Main St., Napa, 707/251-5656, ubuntunapa.com, almonds $8. 19. 150-foot-tall redwood trees The footpaths in Bothe-Napa Valley State Park, a peaceful swatch of green just down the road from the Beringer winery, provide a perfect way to work off food-and-wine-related excess. The six-plus-mile hike that connects the Ritchey Canyon Trail and the Redwood Trail runs past Douglas firs and the easternmost stands of redwoods in California. 3801 St. Helena Hwy. N., Calistoga, 707/942-4575, parks.ca.gov. 20. A local dive bar with class Pancha's of Yountville is just the kind of place where the guy slumped on the bar stool next to you might start giving you tasting notes on his margarita. This is where Napa's winemakers come to unwind (and unwind and unwind). Expect to eavesdrop on gossip about rivalries and romances that seem sprung from Falcon Crest. 6764 Washington St., Yountville, 707/944-2125.

The sun is setting as my friends Mary Ellen and Julia and I roar out of the airport in a convertible. We've had a rough time of it lately: Julia and I have gone through divorces, and Mary Ellen is a widow. We feel like we're living the story lines of so many blues and country songs, so we decide to spend our annual getaway immersing ourselves in the land of love and heartbreak. Our plan is to cover Tennessee's stretch of Interstate 40, with stops made famous by musicians from Elvis to Keith Urban. Maybe we can learn a thing or two. MEMPHIS Sun Studio You'd never guess this small, humble-looking studio had such a rich history. But the minute the tour guides launch into tales of Elvis Presley and Roy Orbison recording songs here, the worn edges recede right into the background. 706 Union Ave., 800/441-6249, sunstudio.com, $12. Graceland As expected, Elvis's mansion is one over-the-top moment after the next. (Jungle-motif furnishings! An indoor waterfall! The King's jewel-encrusted jumpsuits!) Across the street at Graceland Plaza, I buy a pair of Elvis socks. 3734 Elvis Presley Blvd., 800/ 238-2010, elvis.com, audio tour from $28. Heartbreak Hotel Given the state of our love lives, this place seems like the right fit. At check-in, we're upgraded to the Hollywood Suite. Our luck is already changing. 3677 Elvis Presley Blvd., 877/777-0606, elvis.com/epheartbreakhotel, from $112. Tater Red's Lucky Mojos As dusk settles, neon signs straight out of the '40s light up Beale Street, Memphis's hottest party strip. Among the music venues like B.B. King's and Blues City Cafe sits a shop called Tater Red's. The store is rife with curiosities, including a wall devoted to cures for curses. I'm torn between the Ex-Husband Stay Away oil and the Come To Me candle. 153 Beale St., 901/578-7234, taterreds.com, oils from $2. Stax Museum of American Soul Music This museum is a fitting tribute to the label that launched the careers of greats like Otis Redding and Isaac Hayes. The first stop is a 103-year-old gospel church from Duncan, Miss. From there, you step onto a Soul Train–inspired dance floor, see a re-creation of a Stax recording studio, and scan the Hall of Records, where the 180 selections on the jukebox read like a list of relationship woes, from "Never Can Say Goodbye" to "Try a Little Tenderness." 926 E. McLemore Ave., 901/946-2535, staxmuseum.com, $12. Arcade Restaurant No Memphis trip would be complete without a peanut-butter-and-banana sandwich, Elvis's favorite snack. We order one at Arcade, Memphis's oldest restaurant, and it's as satisfying as it is calorie-laden. No wonder Elvis packed on the pounds. 540 S. Main St., 901/526-5757, arcaderestaurant.com, sandwich $7. JACKSON Casey Jones Village About an hour east of Memphis, off exit 80A, this village is a tribute to Casey Jones—he died in 1900 while trying to stop his train from crashing into another but managed to save all of his passengers. Jones has been immortalized in song by Pete Seeger, among others. The village includes a museum, a country store with a Southern-food restaurant and an old-fashioned ice-cream parlor, and a sweeping lawn—site of free bluegrass jam sessions on Thursday evenings. 56 Casey Jones Ln., 800/748-9588, caseyjones.com. International Rock-A-Billy Hall of Fame In an 1880 brick building in downtown Jackson—considered the birthplace of rockabilly—this hall of fame displays a growing collection of memorabilia (Carl Perkins's blue-suede boots), videos of interviews with legends like Johnny Cash, and 16 life-size paintings of stars, including Jerry Lee Lewis and Brenda Lee. 105 N. Church St., 731/427-6262, rockabillyhall.org, $10. CAMDEN Patsy Cline Memorial Patsy Cline died in 1963 at age 30, when her plane went down near Camden. There's not much to the memorial—a big rock with her name on it and a display with newspaper clippings from the day she died—but that doesn't stop serious fans from making the 18-mile detour off I-40 to pay their respects. We honor her by singing along to her rendition of "Crazy." Mount Carmel Rd. off Hwy. 641, 731/584-8395, free. HURRICANE MILLS Coal Miner's Daughter Museum Cline and her pal Loretta Lynn commiserated about their marriage troubles. Lynn has a ranch in Hurricane Mills, 30 miles from Camden, and the museum on the grounds is the perfect tonic for anyone who thinks she's had it bad. The 18,000-square-foot space chronicles her life. Her early years—impoverished childhood, married at 13, four kids by 18—will make you grateful for your "problems." 1877 Hurricane Mills Rd., 931/296-1840, lorettalynn.com, $10, open April–Oct. NASHVILLE Loveless Cafe By the time we make it to Nashville, we've heard so much about the down-home Southern fare at the Loveless Cafe that we have to stop. I don't even really like biscuits, but the Loveless version (buttery, flaky, and made from scratch) is famous, so I try one...and another, and another. I like them so much that I buy a package of biscuit mix at Hams & Jams, a shop next door. 8400 Hwy. 100, 615/646-9700, lovelesscafe.com, breakfast from $7, biscuit mix $5. Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum With all the sparkly costumes, big hair, and exaggerated twangs, country music is anything but understated. Same goes for the Country Music Hall of Fame. The 130,000-square-foot building takes up an entire city block, and its curved façade and tall windows (designed to look like piano keys) help the structure command attention. Inside, you can hear about all manner of heartache at the six listening booths, see one of Dolly Parton's famously flashy gowns, and read up on the hall's 108 honorees. 222 5th Ave. S., 615/416-2001, countrymusichalloffame.com, $20. Hutton Hotel The Hutton Hotel has been open for only nine months, but it's already becoming the go-to spot for big names in the music industry. (LeAnn Rimes has been spotted at the bar.) The hotel's mid-century modern decor, 300-thread-count sheets, and granite baths are just indulgent enough to make you feel pampered after a long day. And Lower Broadway, where you'll find several of the city's top music venues, is only about a mile away. 1808 West End Ave., 615/340-9333, huttonhotel.com, from $159. Grand Ole Opry For the grand finale of our Music Highway tour, we've bought tickets to see Keith Urban at the Grand Ole Opry. Who better to school us on love troubles than the man with an album called "Love, Pain & the Whole Crazy Thing"? Shows at the Opry are lineups—the acts rotate on and off with head-spinning speed. By the time our heartthrob gets onstage, we're on our feet singing along to his hit single "You Look Good in My Shirt." I wonder if he's thinking about wife Nicole Kidman as he sings the lyrics. The song feels like the perfectly optimistic endnote to our heartbreak tour. If Urban found domestic bliss, surely we can, too. 2804 Opryland Dr., opry.com, from $38.