Travel Curator

1 month ago | travelcurator.com | Becca Hensley

I don’t have diamond stars in my hair like dreamy Habsburg Empress Sisi, who once lorded over Budapest’s ornate Hungarian State Opera House as if it were her second home. But, in her honor, I’ve dressed queenly enough, sporting silks, lace, and heels higher than should be legal. I take an opulent seat in a cosseting private box, positioned to hover over the gilded Neo-Renaissance opera house’s gallery.

1 month ago | travelcurator.com | Jake Emen

The restaurant industry loves a good underdog story — gritty kitchens, long hours, and a relentless pursuit of perfection. But when it comes to the gender dynamics behind the pass, the narrative is far less cinematic. The world of fine dining has long been a boy’s club, with leadership roles overwhelmingly skewing male. And while the U.S. has made some progress, the numbers still tell a sobering tale.

1 month ago | travelcurator.com | Katie McElveen

I’m floating on my back, eyes closed, when I feel the first prickle of rain on my face. It’s unexpected but not entirely so — I am, after all, drifting in a pool secreted deep in the Costa Rican jungle. The only sounds I hear come from water: the drip of rain on the leaves above me, the swish of my legs and arms as I move through the pool, and the rush of the river. I feel like I’m alone but I’m actually not.

1 month ago | travelcurator.com | Jake Emen

Where there’s great wine, there’s usually fabulous food. It’s easy to see why, as the same travelers who appreciate a fine vintage or a tasting flight are sure to relish an excellent gourmet meal. Build a great wine-region restaurant, and the hungry diners and perhaps the Michelin stars, are sure to follow. In Napa Valley, that’s long been the case. It’s not exactly breaking news that the country’s most well-known wine destination is home to a storied lineage of premier dining options.

2 months ago | travelcurator.com | Shari Mycek

I never lock my door. Not once. To be honest, the thought never occurs to me. Although a shiny brass key is provided upon arrival to my beachfront house at The Cove Eleuthera where I’m staying solo, I leave it — idly neglected — next to the welcome Champagne and cheeseboard. And this simple, unassuming decision — the freedom of meandering to and from an unlocked house — catapults me back in time. To my childhood. In the small, Mason Dixon-line town where I grew up, we never locked our doors.