Named after one of the most fierce gangs in New York City, The Dead Rabbit is as notorious as its historic moniker. Set in Manhattan’s Financial District, the bar – created by Jack McGarry and Sean Muldoon, alumni of Belfast’s much-lauded Merchant Hotel – has featured on ‘World’s Best’ lists since opening in 2013, finally taking out World’s Best Bar in 2016. Sawdust-sprinkled floors, leather furnishings and unpretentious service infuse the vintage venue with an ambient atmosphere across its three levels. There’s the Taproom, pouring 145 varieties of Irish whiskey (the largest selection in the USA); the Parlour, featuring a graphic novel-like cocktail menu; and the Occasional, a private function room, plus with traditional Irish fare served across all floors.
The stunning landscape of southeast Alaska, also known as the Alaska Panhandle, is where you’ll find Kalgaya Point, a lookout taking in the small township of Haines and the northern part of the famous Inside Passage.
Despite the rugged landscape, the trail from Haines to Kalgaya Point is well-maintained and moderately trafficked so you won’t be jostling other travellers out of the way for a decent view. The potential for wildlife sightings is huge and you might see eagles, waterfowls, porcupines, whales, seals, winter wrens and moose.
Take a guided hike and learn more about the area and the Indigenous people’s uses for the various plants encountered along the trail. As the trail slowly rises, the sensational panorama of snow-capped mountains and coastal Haines comes into view. From this vantage point you can see Chilkat Inlet to the south and Chilkoot Inlet to the north. Soak it up – you’re far enough from civilisation that the only sounds you’ll hear are the occasional bird call or squirrel chirp.
The rocky forest trail, broken with dense tree roots, leads down to a pebbled beach. Stand on the beach and watch for seals, sea lions and the tell-tale blows or flukes of humpback whales, before heading back along the same trail to your Hurtigruten ship.
“You wanna know something? Donnie asks in a smoky mid-western drawl. I’m only gonna tell you this once, so pay attention. Where you are now, right now, this place here, is the best ski mountain in the USA if not the whole damn world!”
I’m propped up at the bar at the Hellroaring Saloon & Eatery on Montana’s Whitefish Mountain. In front of me is a pint of Moose Drool Brown Ale and to my left is Donnie, a local skier with an amazing ability to fit twice as many words into a sentence than is necessary. The bar itself is decorated with an eclectic mix of ski paraphernalia and the odd stuffed animal. There are three guys in cowboy hats downing shots of whiskey at the end of the bar. If not for everyone dressed in ski gear we could be in a scene from a classic Clint Eastwood western.
“This place ain’t like them fancy pancy nancy Colorado reeezorts,” Donnie drawls. “Oh, no sir! I skied down there before I got up this way and I ain’t never ever even thought once about heading back on down.”
“Coz we’re different, man. We’re the real deal in these parts.” Then he stands, shakes my hand and wanders out onto the powdered slopes of Whitefish leaving me grinning.
“Donnie,” I say to myself channelling his linguistic trait, “that is simply, without a doubt, the main exact reason we’re here.”
We had landed at Bozeman Airport a week earlier to make our way to Montana’s most famous ski field, Big Sky Resort. Embracing the Wild West, we eschew the ski-in, ski-out chalets and instead choose to stay at Lone Mountain Ranch, one of National Geographic’s Unique Lodges of the World. Picture the quintessential American log cabin surrounded by trees slouching with the weight of a fresh snowfall. The 27 log cabins are spaced well enough away from each other to ensure privacy and a feeling of isolation, yet all are within walking distance of the main ranch where the renowned Horn & Cantle Restaurant serves award-winning nosh and its saloon bar pours American whiskies and craft beer. It’s all rustic wood, open fires and low lighting. I feel like I need to buy a Stetson just to fit in.
The snow when we arrive is waist deep. The stars light our way and the glow of the open fire in our cabin – named Lame Deer – beckons through the windows. There’s a record player with a selection of vinyl. I choose The Best of John Denver (nice touch) and climb into the deep warmth of our bed to the strains of ‘Rocky Mountain High’. This is America.
It’s a short drive from Lone Mountain to Big Sky Resort. As we approach the base there’s a flurry of activity as a few skiers and boarders jostle for the lifts. Claiming to have the “Biggest Skiing in America”, Big Sky has more than 20 square kilometres of ski terrain with runs for all levels. It is astonishing that there are not more people here. There are no lines for the lifts. None. Not one. Perhaps that is why the likes of Justin Timberlake and Ben Affleck choose to ski here.
Big Sky has only recently opened the Ramcharger 8, one of the most technologically advanced chairlifts in the world. Built to carry eight people, it is high speed, heated and comes with a weather-protecting hood. Unless word begins to get out, I struggle to see how they will fill it given the lack of crowds.
We ski all day, only stopping for lunch at Headwaters Grille on the mountain. Big Sky lives up to its name and for a couple of hours in the afternoon I have no idea where we are. It is a great way to ski knowing there are new runs after every lift. Thankfully the mountain is well signposted and we don’t find ourselves staring down a double black diamond run to get home.
It’s not all skiing here though, and on our second day we join the team from Spirit of the North for a dog sled through the Moonlight Basin in Big Sky’s backcountry. With the imposing Lone Mountain and Spanish Peaks as a backdrop dogsledding through fresh snow is a serious adrenaline rush. My team of Alaskan huskies barks with excitement and, even before we have taken off, pulls hard on the sled.
“Foot down!” Jim yells at me to ensure I weigh heavily on the foot brake. “If they take off without you we’ll never get your wife back!” My wife shifts uncomfortably in the sled.
Jim gives me the thumbs-up, so I lift my foot and step onto the sled.
It lurches forward and for a split second I fear I’ll be a bachelor again.
It is not easy controlling a dog sled. Push the brake going downhill. Jump off and run with the dogs going uphill. Lean to the left when turning right. Lean to the right when turning left. I curse myself for not paying enough attention to Jim’s briefing, especially when we take a sharp turn and hit a tree branch heavy with powdery snow.
“Having fun?” I ask my wife as she clears the snow from her head. The views are astonishing though. There is so much deep snow it feels like we’re sledding through a world made of marshmallow.
The drive from Big Sky to Whitefish is a seven-hour cruise through middle America. We pass small towns with houses decorated with American flags, like something out of a 1980s Tom Cruise movie. There’s a church with a sign out front proclaiming “All Pasties Welcome”. I assume it means pastors, but out here who would really know? There seems to be more pick-up trucks than people in these parts.
Fifteen minutes after Donnie has departed the Hellroaring Saloon I am back up on the summit of Whitefish. We’re in luck with the weather today. With not a cloud in the sky, the views are endless. The peaks of Glacier National Park run all the way to the Canadian border to the north; to the south Whitefish Lake sparkles in the afternoon sunshine. Donnie had told me of the inversion days that happen here, where the warm air pushes the cloud cover low over the lake and town of Whitefish. “Can you like imagine, just for one minute, what it would be like to ski above the clouds? Man, that’s what it is like. I’m serious. It’s like being in heaven.”
We are staying on the mountain this time in the wonderfully unique Ponderosa Chalet, a treehouse literally a ski length from Tenderfoot chairlift. I learn the first morning to make sure I’m dressed for breakfast after a lift-load of eager snowboarders laughs hysterically at me through the window.
While Ponderosa is set up for self-catering we make the most of the mountain resort’s restaurants. We fine dine on buffalo tenderloin at the renowned Cafe Kandahar and gorge on burgers and beer at Ed & Mully’s where the après-ski scene tends to kick off each day. It ends at The Bierstube with a great selection of local craft beers and retro video games. On our last evening it is karaoke night and, as I look through the song list, I hear a familiar voice from the stage. It’s Donnie and he’s trying to sing ‘The Gambler’ while flashing a beaming smile my way. He beckons me to join him and I spend my last night in Montana singing “You gotta know when to hold ’em, know when to fold ’em” arm in arm with a guy I’d only met a day earlier. It’s the real deal out here alright.
Despite what Taco Bill and Old El Paso have taught us to believe, there’s more to Mexican cuisine than burritos, frozen margaritas and lashings of chips and guac. Which is why the Mexico Food Adventure with Exodus Travel will give you insight into the country’s rich culinary history. You’ll learn about traditional Mexican cooking techniques, visit local markets and restaurants, partake in mezcal tastings and eat straight from street vendors.
There’s even a guided tour of the Mundo Chocolate Museum, where you can join in on an authentic chocolate metate class – tastings are a given, of course. This gastronomic expedition requires a good appetite though, so best not to start that diet until you return.
Sleek, stylish, minimal… If we had to pick three words to sum up Casa Pueblo, it would be those. With its muted palette, whitewashed walls and simple timber finishes, this boutique hotel in the heart of Tulum (although it’s so peaceful you’d never guess) is a calming haven for global nomads. Set around a greenery-filled, open-air atrium, the hotel caters to its free-spirited guests with yoga classes, guided meditation and Reiki sessions.
With a new restaurant, swoon-worthy pool and 16 gorgeous rooms to choose from, each oozing stripped-back tropical boho vibes, the hardest decision you’ll have to make is whether to order an organic coffee or kombucha. When you really need to realign your chakras in a chic, instagrammable location, Casa Pueblo is your place!
A treehouse literally at arm’s length from the slopes of one of the USA’s top ranked yet almost unheard of ski resorts? If it sounds perfect that’s because it’s hard to fault a two-bedroom penthouse surrounded by nature. Montana’s Snow Bear Chalet team, which runs two other properties nearby, ensures your boot warmers are labelled accordingly and the balcony spa is heated. You literally fall down the front stairs onto a run and slide to the chairlift while pulling on your ski boots. You cannot get any closer to the action.
A word of warning though – if you sleep late and saunter into the kitchen sans clothes, the snow seekers on chairlift number three will get an eyeful. They’re so close they can peer right in the window. In fact, you could almost high five them. It doesn’t get any better than this when it comes to ski-in, ski-out. And this part of Montana is off the tourist trail, so there are no lines and awesome locals to ski (and après) with.
On a narrow tree-lined side street hidden between manic Melrose Drive and iconic Santa Monica Boulevard and set among a quaint cottage garden sits a series of picturebook English apartments and bungalows that have harboured many a star over the years. At The Charlie there is no rooftop pool, kitchen run by a celebrity chef or Instagrammable gym. In fact, this is so far removed from the standard West Hollywood scene it instantly soothes you on returning from a day walking the nearby streets.
The Charlie is old-school Hollywood – more Clark Gable than Johnny Depp – with each of the bungalows and suites named after stars of yesteryear. We recommend the two-storey Valentino apartment, with all the mod cons and louvred doors opening to a huge balcony with luxe deck chairs placed to enjoy the LA sun. So, why stay at The Charlie? It used to be Charlie Chaplin’s cottage and you’ll feel like a star living in luxury in WeHo.
The entrance to the small green shed that is home to the Northern Lights Wolf Centre is covered in the skulls and antlers of Canadian Rockies natives. And a door the same colour as the nearby mountain town of Golden is our gateway to an experience for which I’m not fully prepared.
We’re going to walk with wolves, and I’ve watched enough Game Of Thrones to wonder whether I’ll have to adopt a Yorkshire accent to ensure the world’s largest wild canids know I’m friend rather than foe.
The centre was established in 2002 when Casey, a former Hollywood animal trainer, and Shelley Black decided to educate people about the majestic wolves and the important role they play in the environment. They started with just one wolf, but now have a pack of seven that live in a 5000 square metre enclosure.
A chorus of howls adds a backing soundtrack to Shelley’s warnings as she prepares us for what’s to come: “It’s important to remember, we’re on wolf terms.” Thankfully, the wolves, which have been born and raised in captivity, are used to the presence of humans. As a result, they act more like dogs than wild animals.
A leash is attached to young female Flora, who follows Casey to his sedan and is loaded into the back. Riding behind with Shelley, I see Flora’s yellow eyes peering through the back window. She has a pup-like appearance, but this is a 45-kilogram grey wolf with the strength to take down a cow.
It’s a combination of the breath-stealing scenery and majestic nature of the long-legged creature padding beside me that makes me want to pinch myself through my puffy jacket. Flora disappears then reappears far ahead or behind us. It doesn’t faze me until, as I crouch down next to a glacial creek snapping photographs, she starts running towards me. I freeze before remembering Shelley’s words: “Always stand taller than the wolf.” I don’t realise Casey is holding a treat, which is what has Flora’s attention, but before he says, “Don’t panic,” I’ve jumped up and moved well out of her way.
With my heart pounding, we continue. I’m still unsure of my relationship with Flora. She’s not let me pat her, nor has she sniffed my feet as a normal dog would. Shelley instructs me to stand next to a log, and I oblige. Within moments, Flora has jumped up on it and run her tongue along my face, leaving a trail of saliva. It’s the most action I’ve had on this trip to Canada and, wearing the remnants of her sloppy kiss, I’m no longer left wondering whether I’m friend or foe
It’s hard to believe the biggest thrills in Las Vegas happen about 30 minutes from the famous Strip. And, no, we’re not talking about a hedonistic pool party or an all-night club. This is dirty, dusty and easily the biggest injection of adrenaline you’ll have in years. Strap yourself into a dune buggy and hit the bumpy tracks of the Mojave Desert with the guys from Vegas Off Road Tours. This is definitely no ‘stay in line and follow at slow speed’ experience. Far from it, actually.
An instructor in full denim overalls and looking a bit like Jeff Lebowski offers up a few instructions before thrill-seekers hit the accelerator. “Don’t go too hard on the corners. Some dude died out here last week. Not with us, but watch your turns. Oh, and keep up.” With that he’ll shoot through in a cloud of Mojave dust. During the following two hours of insanity there are times when you’ll be sure all four wheels leave the ground, as well as moments when you – whether you’re driving or reluctantly filling the passenger seat – will find yourself screaming from a combination of fear and exhilaration. The trip ends with local craft beers and a barbecue lunch at the Pioneer Hotel. Viva Las Vegas indeed!
Protected from the harsh elements of the Southern Utah desert by nothing more than a rocky, rugged escarpment, luxury hotel Amangiri appears like a too-beautiful-to-be-real mirage. Minimalist lines and neutral tones allow the luxe digs to blend into their age-wearied backdrop, while concrete walls, timber fittings and blackened steel elements serve to enhance the features of the natural surroundings. Private pools, courtyards or rooftop terraces adjoin each of the 34 suites, further ensuring the desert landscape remains the focal point for visitors.
If you do manage to tear yourself away from the stunning vistas, adventure awaits in the form of pre-dawn hot-air balloon rides, rock climbing and horseback riding. Navajo guides are also on hand to share stories, traditions and ritual dances. Amangiri’s open-plan kitchen, complete with floor-to-ceiling windows to maximise the ever-changing outlook, is the ideal dining location, the views matched only by the impeccable quality of the food. Your tummy will rumble at the sight of traditional southwestern dishes served with a modern twist. It may look like an mirage, but we’re sure glad this desert oasis is real.
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