Covert Cuisine: Underground Supper Clubs

Even the most sophisticated traveler could be forgiven for thinking that there's little more to Panama than its iconic canal, seaside capital, and snorkeler-packed Bocas del Toro islands. But there's a more secret and equally spectacular side to the country about a five-hour drive west from Panama City: the Pacific coast region of Los Santos. Here, rolling farmlands and stands of mahogany and cocobolo trees hug an azure coastline, luring surfers, nature buffs, and, increasingly, travelers and second-home owners from all over. Although roadside real-estate billboards suggest a far more developed future, Los Santos has managed to stay blessedly free of resorts. In their place are a handful of low-key—and far more affordable—boutique hotels. The most stylish is the seven-room Villa Camilla, just outside the fishing village of Pedasí. The red-tiled hideaway, located on an 800-acre parcel of the Azuero Peninsula, started out as a private escape for French interior designer Gilles St.-Gilles and his wife, Camilla. "The area reminded us of Tuscany," says St.-Gilles, who landscaped the estate with fragrant jasmine, plumeria, and hibiscus. In 2005, the couple opened their place as a hotel, and last fall they added 20 new seaside duplex lofts. As stylish as they are family-friendly, the setups come with full-size kitchens, extra guest beds, and mosaic-tile flooring. An in-house stable is ready for shoreline horseback rides, and you can sign up for snorkeling trips to nearby Isla Cañas, a palm-fringed refuge where thousands of leatherback turtles converge to build nests. Farther inland, the center of Pedasí has a cow-town vibe: Picture low-slung cottages painted bright green and yellow, and ranchers wearing handmade Panama hats. Yellow is also the color of choice at the new Casita Margarita. This five-room B&B comes with locally crafted cocobolo furniture and a wraparound veranda overlooking Pedasí's main street. Perhaps best of all, it's within walking distance of local hangout Mano Surf Community, a pro shop that does double duty as a café and juice bar, and El Gringo Dusek, a no-frills, alfresco cantina run by retired U.S. Navy officer Joseph Dusek, which serves the best barbecue ribs in Los Santos. Of course, beyond the culinary surf and turf, the region's big draw is its blissfully empty beaches: Some of Panama's most scenic—Los Destiladeros, Modroño, and the black-sand Playa Venao with its eight-foot breaks—are short drives from Pedasí. Closer to home, Pedasí's El Arenal is a good launchpad for day trips to Iguana Island. (Fishermen stationed by the pier rent their motorboats, captain included, for about $50 round trip.) The hotel-free and nearly visitor-free isle is named for its resident black and green iguanas. Sign up for an Iguana Island Foundation snorkeling and hiking tour; you might just get a good look at some hatchlings. While it may be hard to top that sight, 77-year-old Dalila Vera de Quintero knows how to command equal wows. Her lemon-yellow bakery in a bungalow, Dulceria Yely, is famous across Panama for its home-style sweets, like almond queques (pound cakes) and creamy chicheme, a shake blended from sweetened milk, fresh corn, and crushed vanilla beans. She also stashes a cake or two in the kitchen for favorite customers, such as former Panamanian president and Pedasí native Mireya Moscoso. Swoon loudly enough and Quintero may just reward you with a thick presidential slice. LODGING Villa Camilla Los Destiladeros, 011-507/232-0171, azueros.com, from $250 Casita Margarita Calle Central, 011-507/995-2898, pedasihotel.com, from $99 FOOD Mano Surf Community Calle Estudiante and Calle Bolivar, manosurf.com El Gringo Dusek Av. Central, 011-507/995-2869, entrées from $5 Dulceria Yely Calle Ofelia Reluz, 011-507/995-2205, from 3¢ ACTIVITIES Iguana Island Foundation 011-507/236-8117, islaiguana.com, full-day tour $90

Welcome to a secret world. For nearly 500 years, the Forbidden City's fortified walls and 170-foot-wide moat protected the Chinese imperial family from fires, invaders, and nosy Europeans. These days, a new menace lurks outside the barriers: the wrecking ball. All over Beijing, ancient hutong, or alleyways, and traditional houses with tiled roofs and courtyards are giving way to state-of-the-art highways and skyscrapers. Thankfully, the Forbidden City has not only dodged the bulldozer, it's been newly restored, from its charcoal-heated kang beds to its gold-lacquered banquet halls. Completed in 1420 following a 14-year construction job that involved a crew of more than a million, the palace served over time as the highly guarded headquarters for two dozen emperors and their clans, many of whom rarely ventured beyond its shiny red walls. Life here was so secretive that the only commoners allowed in were servants and guards, along with a large coterie of concubines and eunuchs. (As the personal attendants of the rulers, the eunuchs had what many Chinese considered the best jobs, and some became extremely wealthy.) The imperial stranglehold on power came to an abrupt end in 1912 when revolutionaries stormed the Forbidden City and forced the emperor, 6-year-old Puyi, to abdicate. Some saw the downfall coming: During Puyi's coronation at the age of 3, he threw such a tantrum that Chinese nobility considered his rule cursed. To visitors, the Forbidden City can seem every bit as daunting to navigate as a menu crowded with Chinese characters at a Beijing noodle restaurant. There are supposedly 9,999 rooms spread out over 178 acres, nearly half of which are open to the public. (The rulers of heaven were believed to dwell in a palace with 10,000 rooms, so the Forbidden City was built with one chamber less as a sign of respect to the gods.) If you love dragon-shaped door knockers, hidden passageways, and imperial backstabbing, devote a full day to prowling the complex. There are several different ways to dive in. After paying the entrance fee ($6 in winter, $8 in summer), the directionally challenged should consider renting an audio guide for $5 at the Meridian Gate, the main entrance to the inner city. The machines use GPS technology to lead you on a two-hour tour highlighted by plenty of soap-opera-worthy dish. (In 1900, for instance, the ruthless Empress Dowager Cixi ordered the drowning of the emperor's favorite concubine, Zhenfei, in a well now named for the victim.) Or you can hire a licensed English-speaking guide (groups of up to five pay about $30 for one hour, $60 for two and a half hours). Wandering on your own is also a fine option; there are signs in English throughout. And we've made it easy by zeroing in on 10 of the most intriguing sites (see our map here). At day's end, 9,999,999 snarling dragons later, take in the view of the Forbidden City from the roof­top bar of the fabulously mod Emperor hotel next door (33 Qihelou Lu, 800/337-4685, designhotels.com, from $160). Perch on a chrome stool, sip a rice-wine martini, and bask in the clash between new and old Beijing. GETTING THERE Round-trip flights between New York and Beijing cost about $920 on Continental (continental.com). Beijing taxis are very affordable; a typical ride across town is about $3 to $5. You can also take the subway to the Tiananmen West or Tiananmen East stops for 40¢. WHAT TO PACK One of the best guidebooks on the palace is The Forbidden City by Antony White, a British art historian. It has an easy-to-follow map and the full scoop on the architecture, the objects, and the strict rituals of imperial life. SOUVENIR A silk scarf adorned with ancient brush-stroke paintings found in the Forbidden City, available for $44 at the palace gift shop. WHERE TO SPLURGE Treat yourself to dinner just steps from the Forbidden City at Maison Boulud, Daniel Boulud's new restaurant, located in the 1903 American Legation building, which housed the first U.S. embassy in China. The four-course prix fixe menu includes duck foie gras, red-wine-braised short ribs with ravioli, and almond mousse for $63—a fraction of what you'd pay at Boulud's famous New York outpost, Daniel (23 Qianmen Dongdajie, 011-86/10-6559-9200, danielnyc.com/maisonboulud.html).

On Her Majesty's Secret Service The Cold War may be over, but there's still something about putting on a tight gray suit or mod dress and slinking through the chilly, glittering streets of Moscow that will always evoke sexy foreign intrigue. Whether you choose to play CIA, MI6, KGB, or even a double agent (you bastard!), the Hotel Baltschug Kempinski, a five-star luxury palace on the banks of the Moskva River, is for you and your partner.Taken over by the state tourist agency during the Soviet era, it was remodeled in 1992 to reflect the "new era of prosperity and luxurious living." The Baltschug remains a luxurious spot that would be convenient for meeting your handler (or . . . tour guide) in Red Square before repairing to the "Kremlin Suite" to develop your microfilm. When the free world is once again safe, why not repair to the Bar Baltschug for a cigar and a vodka? The menu lists 60 different kinds of Russia's favorite booze, but we recommend a classic martini, twist of lemon, shaken not stirred (from $333). Spanish Castle Magic Castillo de Monda, near the rustic Spanish coastline and in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada range, is old. We're not just talking "Julius Caesar once hung out there" old—we mean "Phoenicians strolled these grounds" old. It's changed hands many times over the years and was used as both a shelter and a fort while the Catholics and Moors struggled for power. Now restored and converted after four centuries of disrepair, this modern bed-and-breakfast makes an unpredictable place for an interlude. Even if you fail to set your lover's world on fire, you can lie there under the stone roof and console yourself with the reminder, "Okay, that was bad, but not torture, confession and forced-religious-conversion bad." Get up, splash some water on your face, and go stare at the dungeon (from $145). Your Space or Mine? Spendy romantics have been putting money toward theoretical trips into outer space for nearly a decade now, but the proposed 3 billion dollar/three-room hotel, Galactic Suite Space Resort, ups the ante. Designed by aerospace engineer Xavier Claramunt, the pod-shaped suites are projected to travel around the Earth every 80 minutes (going faster than 16,000 miles per hour). The cost? About $4 million for a "stay" of four days, so we're hoping that includes fresh towels and turndown service by an actual Wookiee. Assuming everything goes well, this short escape from the Earth's atmosphere will allow you and your lover to swoon over 15 romantic sunrises per day, and maybe even engage in some zero-gravity hijinks. The pods aren't even set to orbit until 2012, so you'll have at least three more years to save up for the ultimate un-cheap date. Shanghai Surprise If for no other reason, the altitude will make a night at the Grand Hyatt Shanghai one to remember. Occupying the 53rd through 87th floors of the city's Jin Mao Tower, the rooms are high enough that you might even think you're seeing a little slice of heaven (or maybe just a clean spot above the city's smog). For a cocktail in dramatic surroundings, reserve a table at the circular Cloud 9 lounge, which has 360-degree views. Here, you and your sweetheart can look down on the world and say, as the Chinese do with increasing regularity, "One day all of this will be ours." And years down the road, if the excitement starts to fade, you can console each other with the thought that you once did it 800 feet up. Then call a lawyer (from $202). Dutch Treat: Bedding Down in Amsterdam Room 702 of the Hilton Amsterdam is where newlyweds John Lennon and Yoko Ono held the first in a series of "Bed-Ins for Peace" in 1969. Between 9 a.m. and 9 p.m., reporters clamored to be the first into the suite, assuming that the honeymooning Ono-Lennons, who had already appeared naked on the cover of their joint release Two Virgins, would be engaged in a naked, febrile, Vietnam-protesting, 12-hour-long clinch for the cameras. The reporters were disappointed to find the long-haired activists in crisp, white pajamas, smoking cigarettes, and musing aloud about Bagism, their self-invented philosophy. In the parlance of the time, what a drag. If you and your date would rather not commit to staying in bed all day, the city and its gorgeous canals, Rembrandts, and van Goghs are all just a quick stroll outside (from $218). Midnight at the Oasis It used to be that in order to achieve the kind of expat chic cultivated by literary icons like longtime Morocco residents Paul and Jane Bowles, couples had to put down that Pottery Barn catalog, get off the couch, and actually leave the country. These days, your own personal Tangiers can be had much closer to home. Korakia Pensione is a faux-Moroccan villa built in 1924 for the painter Gordon Coutts (a Scotsman who traveled through and painted the deserts of North Africa). Over the years, guests as fabled as Errol Flynn and Winston Churchill have relaxed in the shade of olive trees and date palms and allowed the calming fountains' trickling to soothe their skull-melting hangovers. True to the spirit of Old Morocco, the Korakia (Greek for "crow") offers an afternoon tea service but no in-room TV or phone access (they're both "distractions"). There is Wi-Fi "to keep you connected to the outside world," but short of that, you and your partner in soul-searching are on your own. Children under 13 are not allowed (from $159). Okay, But Only Because You're the Last Man on Earth Swatches, impenetrable bank accounts, instant cocoa—the Swiss have made many indispensable contributions to global culture. But the Null Stern (Zero Star) Hotel, fashioned from a nuclear bunker beneath the small town of Sevelen, about 70 miles southwest of Zürich, is unlikely to inspire copycats. Still, the notion of a hot night in a former atomic-blast-proof facility will certainly appeal to those into (extremely) safe sex. Brothers and artists Frank and Patrik Riklin have converted a seldom used fallout shelter and old concrete-walled factory into a high-concept lodging, with screens in lieu of a view (live footage from outside is projected onto the walls to create mock windows). While you and your partner survey the modest but certainly novel accommodations (a bargain at about $9 a night), you can imagine that civilization has been destroyed and it's up to you to repopulate the planet (come on, like you haven't used that line before). After opening for a trial period, during which it saw only a dozen guests, the Zero Star is scheduled to open more widely soon. Check the town's website for updates. Fashion, Sweetie Have you ever had the desire to pose your partner on a funky divan or a glossy, antique desk and pretend that you're in the middle of a photo shoot? London's hyper-styled but relatively affordable Pavilion is a 30-room town house full of meticulously designed themed suites with names that include Enter the Dragon, Better Red than Dead, and Casablanca Nights. The rooms have hosted photo shoots with stars like Kate Beckinsale, Jarvis Cocker, Naomi Campbell, and Bryan Ferry—stylists love the outrageous surroundings (leopard print, red velvets, gold, vintage furniture) and everyone else likes the room rates. Many are well under $100, which means you won't have to overdraw your account just to keep the glamour alive (from $86).

I've never been a fan of the cold. As a kid, my favorite part of skiing was the hot chocolate, and I relished blizzards for the snow days, not the snowball fights. So when I booked a trip to the Icehotel in northern Sweden, my family and friends were amused—and a bit concerned, especially when I got sick days before my flight. "You can't go to the Arctic with a cold!" my mother admonished. But I had good reason for wanting to sleep in a glorified freezer: As an environmental reporter, I was curious to see a place where people have turned snow and ice into a moneymaker, one that's spawned copycats in frigid spots from Canada to Romania. Conceived by Yngve Bergqvist, a river-rafting guide who wanted to lure visitors to the Arctic north during the winter, the Icehotel started out in 1990 as nothing more than a crude igloo. Now, it's a fanci­ful ice castle that's rebuilt every November with an unparalleled level of artistry—which explains why each winter 16,000 guests pay hundreds of dollars a night to sleep on a slab of ice and thousands more make the trek just to tour the rooms for the day. The 30 most elaborate suites are the handiwork of a team of artists—sculptors, painters, architects, even comic book illustrators—many of whom have never worked with ice before. Wielding chain saws and chisels, they spend weeks crafting frozen furniture while electricians install lights to provide an ethereal glow. Surreal? Exceedingly. This winter, German furniture maker Jens Paulus and American industrial designer Joshua Space created a space-station room straight out of Star Trek, with giant carvings of the sun and moon on opposing walls and twinkling lights in the ceiling. British decorator Ben Rousseau and graffiti artist Insa devised the Getting Cold Feet suite, with oversize high-heeled ice shoes beside the bed. Twenty-nine unadorned snow caves offer a somewhat less pricey and more purist experience. Since no hotel would be complete without a bar, the artists also sculpt a chic space where guests can warm their innards with an Icebar Jukkasjärvi, a mix of vodka, blueberry liqueur, blue curaçao syrup, and elderflower juice, sipped from a cube-shaped ice glass. Then there's the chapel, where designs etched into the ice walls resemble stained glass. About 150 couples tie the knot here each year, some brides bundled in snowsuits, others dressed in white wedding gowns, their teeth chattering as they recite their vows. When I arrive in Sweden, I'm surprised to find that the guests actually spend a lot of time in a pair of heated chalets that look like life-size gingerbread houses. The shower and bathroom are located in the one nearest the hotel—because, really, who wants to sit on a frozen throne? And the other contains the restaurant, where chef Richard Näslin dreams up such intriguing dishes as arctic char ice cream, which has a slightly salty, smoky flavor and is much more delicious than it sounds. After my dinner, wrapped in several layers of fleece and down, I waddle out to a tepee for a folk concert by native Laplander Yana Mangi. At the end of each song, the crowd responds with a uniquely Arctic ovation: muffled mitten clapping. My suite has a nautical theme, with walls curved into a frozen wave and an oval bed of bluish ice set beneath a clam-shaped headboard. Topped with a mattress and a reindeer skin, the setup looks snug. Almost. The temperature is a brisk 23 degrees Fahrenheit, and I'm still petrified I'll lose a finger to hypothermia, even in my head-to-toe winter wardrobe. I climb under the furry blanket, making sure not an inch of skin is exposed. Then I gaze through the slits in my microfleece face mask and marvel at the stillness. My breath comes in shallow white puffs. Soon, I'm fast asleep. The next thing I know, a hotel attendant is standing beside me with a cup of steaming lingonberry juice—my wake-up call. Amazingly, I slept through the night, giving new meaning to the expression "out cold." I wiggle my fingers and toes—they're tingly, but all there. Then I do what any sane person would: sprint to the chalet to thaw out in the shower and sauna. Most guests stay only one night, but I opt for a second. It's not to prove my mettle; I feel as if I've done that. Rather, I find my frosty alcove incredibly restful and therapeutic. Maybe the hotel should add an ice yoga studio next? Jukkasjärvi, 11 miles from Kiruna, 011-46/980-66-800, icehotel.com, from $400 for a snow room, from $535 for an art suite, both include breakfast and sauna. GETTING THERE A round-trip flight between New York and Stockholm on SAS costs about $700 in midwinter (flysas.com). From Stockholm, take a 16-hour train ride to Kiruna (from $44 round trip). The Icehotel is a $13 bus ride away. WHEN TO GO The hotel opens every year in early December and closes at the end of April. You have a chance of spotting the northern lights in December and January, but those are the coldest months—temperatures can dip to 45 below. WHAT TO PACK Think wool and fleece layers; avoid cotton, which can trap moisture and make you colder. The hotel supplies boots and hats. For details, see icehotel.com/winter/adventure/dress. WHERE TO SPLURGE Don't miss the guided hotel tour ($37 per person). And how about an ice-sculpting lesson ($75 per person)? Or a six-hour snow­mobile safari to see moose at their winter feeding grounds ($400 per person)? WHERE TO SAVE Tour the Icehotel by day, and then spend the night at Hotel Kebne in Kiruna (011-46/980-68-180, hotellkebne.com, from $100).