Bernardus Lodge & Spa is located in California’s Carmel Valley, near Carmel-By-The-Sea, Monterey, and Big Sur. The property was opened in 1999 by Bernardus “Ben” Pon, a Dutch Olympic skeet shooter, racecar driver (in 1962 he competed in the Dutch Grand Prix with a works Porsche 787, resulting in a crash and an avowal to never race again), and vintner who opened his namesake winery in 1989. When Pon first discovered the area, it was more rural, but the same rolling green hills and expansive blue skies remain. Today, the region remains a quiet destination, dotted with horse ranches, vineyards, and luxury resorts. 

Arriving at Bernardus, I was greeted with a glass of wine and ushered through the property to my room—one of the Vineyard Villa Suites, which features the aforementioned copper soaking tub, an outdoor shower, fireplaces in both the bedroom and living room, and French doors that open onto a spacious terrace with views of the Santa Lucia mountain range. Dark ceiling beams combined with ornate chandeliers and a king-sized, four-poster bed are vineyard-chic; a living room stocked with magazines invites lounging in front of the fire with a glass of wine—an activity I indulged in throughout my stay. 

In the Village Suites, large copper tubs and private terraces off the bathroom (with outdoor showers) provide a spa-like experience.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

Décor is elevated rustic, as seen in one of the Vineyard Villa Suites, where floral curtains, a canopy bed, and an ornate chandelier add to the charm.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

Since I arrived after dark, I wasn’t able to see the property until the next day. Beautiful, warm, and clear against a storybook blue sky, the morning dawned with ideal weather for exploring both the property and the surrounding area. Bernardus has 73 rooms (a mix of standards, suites, and villas) scattered across a manicured property with pool, spa, bocce and tennis courts, adults-only hot tub, vineyard, rose garden, and plenty of nooks to discover along the way (there was a hammock positioned dreamily between two trees near my room). Bright citrus trees and waving grasses line the gently weaving paths, while building-climbing ivy and roses add an elevated touch. 

After grabbing some snacks from the complimentary, in-room selection, I downed a quick cup of coffee in the lobby (there is a drink station offering various drinks throughout the day), then inquired about borrowing a car for the afternoon. Bernardus is one of about a dozen resorts in the country with a Mercedes-Benz Drive Program partnership, meaning they have a fleet of cars—models include a Maybach, G-Wagen, AMG E 53 Cabriolet, EQS 580—that guests can take out for up to four hours on a first-come, first-serve basis. All you have to do is replace the gas you use. It’s a great amenity for the property, which is tucked away off the beaten path (part of its draw) without anything in walking distance. There are a handful of options for exploring: both Carmel-by-the-Sea and Monterey are less than 30 minutes away, Big Sur is about an hour, and, if you’re on a tighter timeline, Carmel Valley Village, where Bernardus Winery is located, is just a five-minute jaunt. 

For just $12, experience the rugged coast on the scenic 17-mile drive, which winds through the bougie Pebble Beach community and includes highlights like the Lone Cypress, Bird Rock, Pebble Beach Golf Links, and the ghost trees at Pescadero Point.

Photo by Rachel Gallaher

I opted to head for Carmel-by-the-Sea, taking a detour to cruise the iconic 17-Mile Drive,  a picturesque circuit of the California coastline that takes you past historic sites (Huckleberry Point is rumored to be a favorite haunt of literary greats including Robert Louis Stevenson and John Steinbeck), famous golf courses (Pebble Beach, Spyglass Hill, the Links at Spanish Bay), and so many opportunities to get out and see the crashing, roiling Pacific Ocean, that even though I had experienced 17-Mile Drive before, I was eager to get out at each stop to take in the salty-aired views. A highlight is the Ghost Trees at Pescadero Point, where wind-and-sun-bleached Cypress trees stand above a popular Big Wave Surf spot; their twisted, spooky forms remind me of the brush strokes of Edvard Munch’s painting, The Scream.

After 17-Mile-Drive, along which helpful red road markings keep you on track as your drive, I ventured into Carmel-by-the-Sea, where dozens of boutiques, art galleries, and restaurants offer hours of exploration just blocks away from the beach. For lunch, I indulged in a lobster roll at Stationæry, soaking in the afternoon warmth on its sun-soaked patio. After eating, I wandered around town, stopping at Pilgrim’s Way Books & Community Garden, with its tranquil secret green space, hidden away in the middle of town. Here, you can pick up everything from an escapist beach read and the latest contemporary fiction to books of all genres by local authors. 

Fire features on the cozy terrace at Lucia Restaurant keep the evening’s chill at bay.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

An adults-only hot top offers quiet, and one of the property’s best mountain views.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

Back at Bernardus, I took advantage of my patio, reading for a bit before heading to the adults-only hot tub, which I had to myself. Sipping on a glass of vino (each room comes with a bottle, courtesy of the brand’s winery), I watched the sun slip away over the nearby hills, cloaking the day in a gorgeous navy blue that signaled it was almost time for dinner. The restaurant, Lucia, offers Mediterranean-inspired regional cuisine featuring fresh, grown-on-property herbs and produce. I leaned into seafood, starting with a Dungeness crab cake (pickled vegetable slaw, jalapeños, smoked-pimentón gribiche), and choosing the market fish, halibut, which was cooked excellently (read: not too dry—often its downfall) and served with fingerling potatoes. I’m not usually a “dessert person,” but I went out on a limb and ordered the still-warm, partially-baked chocolate chip cookies with vanilla ice cream, and let me tell you that was an absolute indulgence. For oenophiles, Lucia’s cellar holds more than 5,000 bottles of wine across 280 labels, with a private dining area that can be booked for special occasions.

The resort’s adjacent vineyards capture the story of Bernardus Winery, one of the first tasting rooms opened in the area.

Photo courtesy of Bernardus Lodge & Spa

The next day I was tempted to take one of the cars out again, but opted instead for on-resort relaxation, starting with poolside yoga (offered every Friday and Saturday morning), followed by a 50-minute Bernardus Essential facial. My flight wasn’t until 8 p.m., but the resort allowed me to use the amenities (including the spa lounge, sauna, steam room, warming pool, and showers), so I spent the afternoon reading by the hotel pool, eating lunch on my lounger, and rounding out the day with several circuits through the sauna and steam room. With no activities or sightseeing on the books I was able to fully and deeply relax into the sunny afternoon without feeling rushed or planning the next move out in my head. Yes, the grounds, the gourmet food, and the amenities were all fantastic, but those six hours of indulgent, unscheduled tranquility were the biggest—and most needed—luxury of all. 

The post Bernardus Lodge & Spa is a Relaxing Base for Exploring the California Coast appeared first on Seattle magazine.

As with most small towns, the best way to experience it is through a local’s eye, so we asked someone who knows Missoula like an insider for her coveted advice. A part-time Zootown resident who studied at the University of Montana (located less than a mile from downtown), Kathryn Courtney, president and CEO of Mix Consulting, splits her days between Seattle and Missoula. Even with the half-and-half arrangement, she doesn’t just visit—she operates at a local’s clip.

“One of my favorite places right now is Posh Chocolat café in Bonner, just outside town,” Courtney says. “It’s tucked inside a restored mill house, and everything is made fresh on site—soups, pastries, chocolates, even lunch. It’s elegant but not pretentious, and they’ll make you a proper coffee too.”

The city’s small but mighty food scene includes gems like 1889 Steakhouse, which serves up impressive fare, like tomahawk cuts and craft cocktails.

Photos by Lorissa Dauenhauer

When it comes to fine dining, Courtney points to Boxcar Bistro, located in Missoula’s Old Sawmill District. “It leans French and is shockingly good,” she says. “Curated wines, a gorgeous space, and the kind of dishes that make you question where you are.”

For steak splurges—this is Montana, after all—Courtney doesn’t hold back: “For a killer and very bougie steak that rivals anything Michelin-starred, go to 1889,” she advises. “But if you want the real insider move, drive 20 minutes to Lolo and check out the Lolo Creek Steak House. Inside an old log cabin, it’s the real deal. The Stables is the newest super-nice restaurant in town, and everybody’s nuts about it.”

Missoula is nothing if not balanced. When you’re ready to trade steak knives for neon signs, Courtney’s list of post-dinner options features places with music, drinks, and down-to-earth throwback vibes: “Al’s & Vic’s, Charlie B’s, the Oxford, and the Sunrise—those are the real-deal dive bars,” she says. “And the Sunrise is where you go for dancing, no question.”

If you find yourself out boot scooting until the late hours, a cup of strong coffee is a must the next morning. Courtney’s caffeine solution is two-part: “Black Coffee Roasting Company is the go-to these days—it’s stylish and serious about the beans. But Break Espresso is the heart of the town. You’ll find half of Missoula camped out inside, working, reading, talking. The pie is excellent, the brick interior is cozy, and you always run into someone you know.”

Missoula is every nature lover’s dream, where outdoor activities—hiking, water-sports, biking—abound.

Photos courtesy of Destination Missoula

Weekends often revolve around the four overlapping Saturday markets downtown, all within strolling distance. “You could spend hours wandering between them,” Courtney says, noting that her post-market go-to is Worden’s, Missoula’s first grocery store. Here, you can pick up “exceptional sandwiches, imported treats, and wine,” while checking off the remainder of your shopping list. Next door to Worden’s is another Missoula classic. “The Old Post is timeless,” Courtney says, admitting that she recently stopped by twice in one day. “We used to hang out there years ago, and honestly, it’s only gotten better. Their menu is thoughtful, the drinks are handcrafted, and sometimes there’s live music that doesn’t ruin your conversation.”

While everyone is familiar with hiking Mount Sentinel, a local landmark since 1908, when students from the University of Montana painted a large “M” on its western face, Courtney recommends a scenic detour to Salmon Lake, about 40 minutes from town. “The water’s crystal clear, the vibe is relaxed, and it’s small enough to feel like you’ve got it to yourself,” she says. “We even spotted Pink out there during her concert stop. You never know who’ll be floating by.”

And before heading home? “Don’t miss the Montana Antique Mall. Three or four floors of curated chaos—elegant cocktail glasses, weird vintage dolls, first-edition books. I always find something.”

Ready to Head East? Here’s Where to Stay in Missoula

The Wren

Open since 2022, The Wren has quickly claimed “favorite” status among downtown visitors. Its rooms mix Montana minimalism with clever design touches (striped Pendleton blankets, ice buckets shaped like classic Styrofoam coolers), and the lobby doubles as a relaxed living room where locals and travelers regularly cross paths. Best of all, it’s less than five minutes to the Clark Fork River, the Saturday markets, and just about everything else you came for.

Residence Inn Missoula Downtown

Don’t let the name fool you: Residence Inn Missoula Downtown is no standard hospitality-chain stay. Built inside the beautifully restored Missoula Mercantile building, it’s where Western heritage meets modern polish. Ask for the Mercantile Suite—it’s got a lofted layout, soaring arched windows, and enough vintage character to feel like a scene from a film. Bonus: the indoor pool is a godsend after a sun-soaked hike or a long evening of cocktails.

The Gibson Mansion B&B

For a sleepover with storybook charm, try this 1903 Victorian nestled in a quiet neighborhood. Antique-filled rooms, a legendary scone service, and a garden that begs for a late-morning coffee make The Gibson Mansion B&B feel like a hidden chapter from a gentler time.

LOGE Missoula

A newcomer on the hospitality scene, LOGE caters to those looking to spend time outside of their hotel room. Inspired by the surf, climbing, and camping culture of the 1970s, this streamlined stop sits in the heart of Missoula, with “gear walls” in every room, so no matter your activity of choice, there’s room to hang its accoutrements. Didn’t bring your own? LOGE has got you, with bikes, snowshoes, paddleboards, and more available for daily checkout.

The post In the Mood for Missoula appeared first on Seattle magazine.

A walk through the city’s two-hundred-year-old central Plaza isn’t a march through history—it’s a prism. Light bends through centuries at every turn. The adobe churches are not replicas, the Indigenous art is not revivalist, and the Spanish plazas are not stage sets. The city is a living canvas, its surface textured with memory and invention alike. It resists nostalgia even as it honors lineage.

Throughout Santa Fe, Día de los Muertos is a popular holiday.

Photo courtesy of Tourism Santa Fe

Adobe dreams and desert reinventions

This same interplay of eras runs through Santa Fe’s hotels. The Plaza’s iconic La Fonda is pure Southwestern romance—painted headboards, kiva fireplaces, the comforting hush of thick adobe walls. Just around the corner, Hotel Chimayó invites guests into New Mexico’s Spanish-Hispanic traditions, with its saints, and its hot rod bar Low ‘N Slow. Here, the mood is calm, and the décor is as immaculate as the crosses that line the walls. The friendly bartenders are part mixologists, part guides—eager to share stories and insights into the city’s booming beverage scene.

A few miles south of the Plaza, El Rey Court offers a spatial and sensorial pivot in Santa Fe’s creative tapestry—less an homage to history than an act of reinvention. This 1930s motor court, rejuvenated as desert-chic hospitality, is anchored by its mezcal and tequila bar, La Reina. It’s bright and airy with outdoor seating and a cozy lounge, and it doubles as a sanctuary for locals and the new creative class alike.

Evenings at La Reina pulse with energy. As twilight settles, the front‑patio crowd—artists, musicians, designers—gathers for what feels like a weekly salon. In a span of just two nights, we experienced Locals Night, a taco truck, a jewelry bazaar, live music, and the wildly popular One Trick Pony smash burger pop‑up—woman‑owned, grass‑fed, regenerative local beef, delivered with a side of community.

Time portals, turquoise, and the avant-garde

Nearby, small shops like Tru Treasures offer the state stone, turquoise, of course, to fashionistas of all stripes. On Baca Street, the Reflective Jewelry boutique retools traditional silversmithing with Fair Trade politics and sculptural minimalism. Under its glass display cases, discover one-of-a-kind silver necklaces, bracelets, and earrings, produced through contemporary ethical metalsmithing that ensures you can feel good knowing the origins of your purchase.

And at Meow Wolf’s House of Eternal Return, time unspools entirely. The immersive, 20,000-square-foot installation operates on surreal logic: a mystical, modern haunted-house-meets-art- project experience that opens into parallel dimensions, neon forests, subterranean ice caves, and chambers with dreamy soundscapes. It’s whimsical, yes—but beneath the spectacle is something more profound: the tale of familial unraveling through space and time, haunted by memory and touched by otherworldly forces.

At the IAIA Museum of Contemporary Native Arts, Douglas Miles: Always & Forever (open through February 8, 2026) recalibrates history and motion through the mythic language of ancient tribes. Drawing on his heritage, Miles, who founded Apache Skateboards in 2002, elevates skate decks into moving canvases—each emblazoned with Apache warriors—to, according to the exhibition program, “reassert the sovereignty of motion and Native American cultures as dynamic and contemporary.”

Boarding up. Douglas Miles, a painter, printmaker, and photographer from Arizona, is the founder of Apache Skateboards. Now on view at the IAIA Museum of Contemporary Native Arts, the exhibition Douglas Miles:
Always & Forever features Miles’ 2022 installation You’re Skating on Native Land, comprising 30 skateboard decks.

Photo courtesy of Haiden Renae Gould

About 10 miles north, at the New Mexico History Museum, Zozobra: A Fire That Never Goes Out (on display through September 30, 2027) introduces one of Santa Fe’s enduring traditions. Zozobra—also known as Old Man Gloom—is a towering, 50-foot-tall, ghostlike puppet that’s burned each year in a cathartic ritual meant to cast off the collective burdens of the past. The exhibition traces the event’s evolution (it dates back more than 100 years), showcasing vintage posters, ceremonial costumes, and even the handwritten “glooms” that people still submit—notes of anxiety to be consumed by flame. The resemblance to Burning Man is no accident—Zozobra served as inspiration for the desert phenomenon.

At its historic 1917 Plaza location, the New Mexico Museum of Art has just unveiled Gustave Baumann: The Artist’s Environment (closing February 1, 2026), a sweeping retrospective that traces how one of Santa Fe’s defining artists drew on Puebloan and Hispanic traditions, whimsy, nature, and modernist aesthetics to shape his distinctly regional vision.

No exploration of Santa Fe’s artistic legacy is complete without a visit to the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum. Just steps from the Plaza, the intimate space showcases iconic works alongside photographs, sketches, and personal artifacts that reveal O’Keeffe’s deep connection to the New Mexico landscape. It’s a quiet, reverent pause—one that reminds visitors how the desert can shape not just a style, but a life.

Spin the timeline

To feel Santa Fe at its most unhurried, explore the city by bike. Start at the Santa Fe Railyard District, where repurposed warehouses now boast galleries, breweries, and performance spaces. It’s where art walks mingle with farmers markets and local teens hang out at the skate park beside contemporary sculptures. And tucked just off the tracks is Routes Bicycle Tours, a welcoming launchpad for exploring on two wheels.

From here, a designated bike path leads you south along the Rail Trail, or you can take side streets north toward downtown. Either direction offers that perfect Santa Fe tempo: unrushed, open to discovery, and slightly sun-drowsy. Riders coast by historic buildings, artist studios, and cozy neighborhoods—past and present riding in tandem. There’s history under your tires, and a fresh perspective around each bend. In a place where time stretches and folds like a Georgia O’Keeffe flower, a bike might just be the best time machine.

Green chile roots and culinary revolutions

Santa Fe’s food scene mirrors its art: respectful of tradition, but always ready for reinvention.

On the city’s south side, close to El Rey Court, the Pantry has been slinging red chilli and huevos rancheros since 1948. It’s a diner at heart, beloved by generations; the kind of place where the coffee flows freely and nobody blinks when someone orders breakfast at 3 p.m. Just across Cerrillos Road, El Parasol began as a roadside stand in Española and still feels gloriously no-frills fried taco shells, green chile stew, and refried beans with melted cheese are best enjoyed immediately on the benches inside.

In the historic Plaza district, Horno, a buzzy gastropub, leads the newer wave of dining options. For a special treat, ask for the prize-winning green chile cheeseburger—it’s not on the menu. Just a stone’s throw away, Sazón takes a fine-dining approach to regional Mexican cuisine, with famous and artfully plated moles. Popular on Thursdays, Introduction to the Spirits of Mexico (reservation only) includes a flight of five (featuring tequila and mezcal), plus sangrita and mole.

Just two blocks off the central Plaza, Sazón takes a fine-dining approach to regional Mexican cuisine.

Photo courtesy of Sazón

If you’re looking for a throwback, tradition runs deep downtown. Tia Sophia’s, inventor of the breakfast burrito, still has lines down the block most mornings. Across from the cathedral, Palacio Café continues to impress with its tuna melts and green chile enchiladas. Try Chocolate Maven for blue corn pancakes topped with a fried egg—best enjoyed while watching pastries come to life in the open bakery. And finally: Coyote Café. When it opened in 1987, it helped define what modern Southwestern cuisine could be: bold, beautiful, theatrical. These days, the Coyote Cantina, upstairs from the original, brings things full circle—serving tacos, margaritas, and grilled street corn with a side of neon-pink sunsets.

Santa Fe’s aesthetic isn’t a passing trend, but a lasting sensibility—a shared dialect of place, memory, and the ever-present creative pulse in the arid landscape. Unique objects, moments, and people speak the same language: of place, memory, and the creative pulse that never leaves the desert.

The post Desert Daydreams in Santa Fe appeared first on Seattle magazine.

For travelers on the HX Expedition MS Fridtjof Nansen, this is where the story deepens. After disembarking, we arrived in Nuuk with a short list of names—locals whose insight would help us see the city from the inside out.

One of them was Sidsel Iversen, who moved from Denmark to Kangilinnguit (formerly Grønnedal) at the age of three. Today she resides in Nuuk, guiding visitors through its shifting layers. While filled with shops, restaurants, and hotels, Nuuk is still surrounded by nature. Iversen recommends beginning on the water, where whale safaris and fishing trips with Raw Arctic frame the city against endless sky. Nuuk is a hiking mecca, and for Iversen, the pull is always upward. The climb up Lille Malene is a rite of passage for anyone who wants to be called a Nuummioq, while Store Malene rises higher still, its ridgeline cutting nearly 2,500 feet into the clouds. Winter rewrites the script with northern lights and the ski slopes of Sisorarfiit, where the runs descend almost to the shoreline.

Sunset over Nuuk in winter.

Photo by Aningaaq R Carlsen / Visit Greenland

People stand up paddling with Nuuk Adventure in the Nuuk fjord.

Photo by Aningaaq R Carlsen / Visit Greenland

Back at sea level, ride the local bus that winds through neighborhoods like a moving portrait of daily life—something guidebook writer Sabine Barth recommends as one of the most revealing introductions to Nuuk. Barth also recommends climbing the steps of the Colonial Harbour to get in touch with Nuuk’s rich history. Colonial Harbour is Nuuk’s oldest district, where its seafaring past meets modern Greenland’s future.

That tension between old necessity and new expression runs through the city. Nuuk has always been a place of makers. Out of musk ox hides once came warmth and survival; today, the same fibers are transformed at Qiviut into knitwear as soft as air. Streetwear designer Bibi Chemnitz reimagines Greenlandic motifs for the present, while Katuaq, the cultural center, hums with energy from exhibitions, film, and the café at its heart. 

Meals chart this same arc between tradition and modernity. Iversen recommends the tapas at Nivi—from musk ox and reindeer to the island’s bounteous seafood. Other top food options for visitors include Café Esmeralda, with its easy conviviality, and Hotel Hans Egede for its buffet of musk ox and reindeer. Barth also recommends the tasting menu at Sarfalik, a true feast of the Arctic. For warm, welcoming conviviality just steps from the harbor, the newer Hotel Aurora—opened by Iversen’s family in a reimagined industrial building—offers an intimate stay. Finish with a nightcap at Daddy’s, the pub where most evenings end in laughter.

As Iversen notes, the U.S.-focused tourism industry is as new for locals as it is for visitors. “We have to learn to get used to things,” she says. “This is an opportunity, not a burden.” Bea Husum Terkildsen, destinations manager at Visit Nuuk, concurs, viewing the capital as inseparable from the story of Greenland itself. Tourism, she explains, creates jobs, sustains traditions, and ties Nuuk more closely to the world. “Visitors from the U.S. bring valuable perspectives and connections,” she explains, “and by experiencing Greenland firsthand, they become part of our story at a time when our Arctic environment and communities are facing historic transitions.” 

Locals and tourists gather to take photos of traditional seal hunt on National Day.

Photo by Aningaaq R Carlsen / Visit Greenland

View over Nuuk fjord from the window of an Air Greenland helicopter.

Photo by Aningaaq R Carlsen / Visit Greenland

She urges visitors skyward—splurging on a helicopter ride circling Sermitsiaq, the mountain that guards the city like a watchtower. Like Barth, she loves climbing the wooden stairs above the Colonial Harbour to watch evening light stretch across the red-painted homes. “Walk up the stairs by the Colonial Harbour—the view is absolutely stunning, especially in the late summer evening light,” she says. 

At the edge of the city, Nuuk’s striking Malik swimming pool glows like an iceberg under glass—its curved roof and vast windows mirroring the surrounding fjord and mountains. Inside, the sound of splashing salt mingles with laughter as locals and visitors swim laps, soak in the warm pool, or simply watch snow fall beyond the glass. More than a feat of Nordic architecture, Malik is a communal heartbeat—a place where the city gathers year-round to move, breathe, and stay connected through the long Arctic seasons.

The public pool Malik in Nuuk on a winter night.

Photo by Mads Pihl / Visit Greenland

Father and sons enjoying the day in the public indoor swimming pool Malik.

Photo by Rebecca Gustafsson / Visit Greenland

From there, the city unfolds in both directions: toward the sea, where history entered, and into the community, where it is being written anew. In Nuuk, whether you ride the bus, climb a mountain, or follow the harbor steps at dusk, you’re following the arc of a city whose story is still being forged.

Read Part One of our Greenland series for a journey through Ilulissat’s icebergs and fjords. 

The post Dispatches from Greenland, Part Two: Nuuk appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Sister cities have been around for decades, created through formal partnerships between two countries. They promote cross-cultural awareness and diplomatic ties. Every sister city organization or alliance does things differently and varies in how active they are, but what they all share is a mission to connect people in other parts of the world and learn more about each other.

This year marked the 45th anniversary of the Seattle-Nantes relationship. To celebrate, the Seattle-Nantes Sister City Association (SNSCA) organized a weeklong trip earlier this month, sending a 15-member delegation to France along with Seattle City Council member Joy Hollingsworth, chef Kristi Brown, artist Barbara Earl Thomas, and association president Susan Kegel for institutional, artistic, and gastronomic exchange.

Chefs Kristi Brown and Lucie Berthier-Gembara prepare dinner together in Nantes during the sister city celebration.

Photo courtesy of Seattle-Nantes Sister City Association

Delegates from Washington State interacted with French officials like Pierre-Emmanuel Marais, Deputy Mayor in charge of International Relations; Mariette Cassourret; and the president of La Maison des États-Unis (United States House). Speeches touched on themes like shared values, amity and strengthening ties for the future.

Perhaps most notable of the events was the unveiling of the new “Jardin de Seattle” (Garden of Seattle), a plot of land over 5,000 square feet that was inaugurated on Sept. 6 in Nantes inside the Grand-Blottereau Park. The garden gates were designed by multidisciplinary artist and lifelong Seattle resident Barbara Earl Thomas, who was selected from dozens of applicants. Thomas did not pre-plan her design and instead began with freehand etching on paper with an X-Acto knife, leading to intricate imagery on both sides of the doors. Birds, fruits, plants, and people are all part of the art.

Seattle artist Barbara Earl Thomas with the intricately cut steel gates designed for the Jardin de Seattle.

Photo courtesy of Seattle-Nantes Sister City Association

“The garden and my making of the gates symbolize the seeds we plant, the shared earth we tend and the relationships, we nurture and hold dear,” says Thomas. “Our future survival is in keeping that faith and passing it on.” The design was shipped overseas and transferred onto steel.

The garden also involved a team of professionals like French landscaper Sébastien Floch, who helped devise the plan and lay out the grounds, and Seattle-based specialist Ray Larson, Curator of Living Collections at the University of Washington, who was consulted on the flora and fauna and was instrumental in helping to import everything overseas. Cosmic Crisp apples (not grown in Europe but local to Seattle) and cranberries were planted in the garden, further illustrating the horticultural homage to Seattle.

“I think it demonstrates the importance of the relationship that we’ve had for so many years,” President Kegel says, reflecting on the effort it took for Nantes to open the garden—three years in the making—and what it represents. “It’s a lasting symbol. It’s free and open to the public. So for years and years and years, people walking through the garden in Nantes will be reminded of our sister city relationship.”

“This park is more than a space,” Councilwoman Hollingsworth says, emphasizing the special nature of the area, forged in friendship. “It is a living bridge between our city, Seattle, and Nantes.”

Some of the events throughout the week included a visit to the 2,000-year-old salt marshes and a 500-year-old castle, as well as a performance by guitarist Dïe Morg, who covered Seattle-inspired hits from bands like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains, and Soundgarden—a nod to the birthplace of grunge. Morg also paid tribute to a song by Jimi Hendrix, who grew up in Seattle. During the evening of the garden opening, chefs and restaurateurs Kristi Brown (of the Central District’s Communion) and Lucie Berthier-Gembara (Sépia) collaborated on a five-course meal that toasted Franco-American ties in an edible fusion of cultures.

So what’s in store for Seattle’s future with Nantes? A French delegation has plans to visit in mid-October. And next spring, local artist Suze Woolf will be collaborating with French artist Eric Fontenau in Seattle for an exhibition on nature. An environmental forum between the two locales is also slated for 2026.

In light of current diplomatic uncertainties, this trip is of particular importance as it offers a positive side of international connections and shows Seattle actively weaving itself into the global tapestry.

The post Seattle’s French Connection appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Aside from skiing—and the occasional summer hike—much of my favored activity happens inside. But, as luck would have it, a few years ago, one of my friend groups started camping regularly. Maybe it was COVID-related boredom, or an abundance of free time, but there we were, pitching tents and building fires in campgrounds around the state. Each of my friends has a different level of dedication to and intensity for camping: one couple backpacks into the wilderness several times a year; the majority of us are car campers who will sleep in a tent but pack oysters and sparkling wine to pair with our hot dogs. I fall squarely in the latter category.

We didn’t camp much when I was a kid, and the second time I slept in a tent as an adult, I had no idea I was supposed to bring a sleeping pad. (The next day, in sheer desperation, I purchased an inflatable pool raft at a hardware store on a grocery run. Frankly, it wasn’t much better than the ground.)

It’s not that I don’t like the outdoors. I love nature and feel very lucky to live in the Pacific Northwest with its mercurial, seasonal beauty. I just don’t love camping. I’ll go if everyone else does, mostly because I don’t like to miss out and I enjoy late-night hangs by the fire. But sleeping in a tent, not taking showers, and having no access to electricity is just not how I like to experience nature. (Yes, I know how awful that sounds.) So, when someone told me about the first Northwest location of Under Canvas—the upscale outdoor hospitality brand known for offering “glamping” in breathtaking locations across the country—I was instantly intrigued. I had never “glamped,” but the mention of in-tent showers, bathrooms, and beds with actual mattresses sounded just about my speed.

Tucked in a valley just 16 miles (about a 25-minute drive) from White Salmon, a small town on the border between Washington and Oregon, Under Canvas Columbia River Gorge captures the wild beauty of our state’s south-central region—and a striking snapshot view of Oregon’s Mount Hood in the distance.

“All 12 of our camps are intentionally located in close proximity to the country’s most iconic national parks, monuments, and outdoor destinations,” says Under Canvas CEO Matt Gaghen. “The Columbia River Gorge was a natural progression for the expansion of the brand. The region is a coveted outdoor recreation playground, offering an incredible array of outdoor adventures as well as more relaxing lifestyle experiences with a rich food and wine culture that sets it apart from our other camps.”

I had been to the area before. Two of my good friends grew up in White Salmon, and between wine weekends and bachelorettes, the Gorge bewitched me with its natural wildness and laid-back, small-town charm.

A day or two before I set off, I received a pre-arrival email with helpful information, from a reminder that the camp is “off-grid” without Wi-Fi access (“To encourage immersion in nature and connection with each other and ourselves,” Gaghen explains), to specific instructions for accessing the site. (Pay attention to the provided driving directions, as two roads lead to Under Canvas. One is much longer and completely gravel. Ask me how I know.)

My four-hour drive from Seattle was fairly uneventful, with the standard congested traffic around Portland, but once I turned east, it was a smooth shot to Hood River, then over the bridge, through White Salmon, and on to Under Canvas. The arrival experience winds you down into the White Salmon River Valley, where 50 safari-style tents sit on 120 acres. “We design every camp to minimize disruption to the landscape—preserving open space, working with the land’s natural topography, and using sustainable systems throughout,” says Gaghen. These systems include low-flow toilets, pull-chain showers, energy-efficient lighting (as the operators of the world’s first DarkSky-certified resorts, Under Canvas takes steps to minimize light pollution), and battery- powered charging stations.

Check-in was simple, with a quick demonstration of how to operate the sinks, showers, and gas fireplace in my tent, although the latter felt unnecessary as the temperature hovered around 90 degrees. After the usual registration procedures, an Under Canvas staffer whisked me to my car in a golf cart (the parking lot sits slightly north of the campsite), loaded my luggage, and ferried me to my accommodations: one of the resort’s Stargazer tents, which features a skyward viewing window above the king-size bed.

The raised, safari-style tent is made of heavy canvas that turned out to make a lot of noise when the wind blew (I was used to it by the second night, but woke up abruptly several times the night before when particularly strong gusts whipped the lodging, causing the wood beams to creak). It’s a hazard of the area; the Columbia Gorge is known for its gusty conditions. The first thing I noticed was the smell: in the warm afternoon, the cedar floor and wall planks delineating the ensuite shower and toilet made the whole tent smell pleasantly like a sauna. Outfitted with West Elm furniture, the space included the bed with two nightstands, a seating area (two leather sling-style chairs and a rattan pouf), a wood bench, and a cowhide rug underfoot. A small, covered porch had two chairs—I spent a couple of hours reading there before dinner.

“[Under Canvas] provides the comforts of a boutique hotel in the middle of some of the country’s most breathtaking landscapes,” Gaghen says, noting that in addition to the Stargazer and pint sized
tents for kids, they offer “unique options like our Mount Hood Suite at Columbia River Gorge, which includes two tents connected by a private deck, allow[ing] guests to customize their experience, whether traveling solo, as a couple, or with family or friends.”

For obvious reasons—to avoid attracting local wildlife, including black bears—food is not allowed in the tents. Grab-and-go snacks (energy bars, juices, sandwiches, meat-and-cheese packs) can be purchased and eaten in the lobby tent, dining room, and outdoor communal area, which features two firepits and a series of picnic tables. Breakfast and dinner are available for purchase in a café- style setting offering a menu focused on locally sourced food and drinks. During my stay, the resort did not yet have its permit to serve alcohol, but it did allow adult beverages on the property, which proved a benefit after visiting a few wineries the next day. (Coffee, tea, hot chocolate, and water are always free). The food—everything from shrimp tacos, burgers, and salads to wild king salmon and cioppino—was fine; better fare than I’d had on many camping trips, but, at the time of my visit, nothing to write home about.

In-tents experience. The safari-style tents at Under Canvas Columbia River Gorge include beds, gas fireplaces, and West Elm furniture

Photo by Bailey Made

After dinner, complimentary s’mores are a must: packets of chocolate, marshmallows, and graham crackers, plus roasting sticks, are available every evening in the lobby. Other amenities include acoustic guitars, yoga mats, board games and books, and live music. For those looking to venture beyond the tents, Under Canvas offers an adventure concierge who can help arrange or advise on excursions such as white-water rafting, hiking, mountain biking, wine or beer tasting, fishing, and stand-up paddleboarding. On-site activities range from morning journaling and yoga to scavenger hunts and crafts for all ages, like bracelet and bookmark making.

Although the resort doesn’t have WiFi, my phone did have service (thanks, T-Mobile), so I can’t say I fully unplugged during my stay. But there was something about the experience that encouraged a slower pace. I spent a lot of time reading (in bed, on my porch, by the communal fire pit) and trying to escape the heat. While glamping proved a major step up from a tent in the woods, there were several things I didn’t anticipate, like the shower only staying on for around 30 seconds with each yank of the chain, how dark it got at night (battery-powered lanterns are the light source), and even though I was solo for the trip, the fact that there wasn’t an actual door on the bathroom (an L shaped wood screen created a nook in one corner). It got cold at night.

The lobby tent is a camp hub, where guests can hang out, meet fellow glampers, and plan excursions with on-site adventure coordinators.

Photo by Bailey Made

These unexpected moments imbued the experience with a rustic sensibility, creating a unique bridge between past camping trips and traditional hospitality hot spots. Under Canvas was a great “home base” between exploring the independent boutiques and cafes in White Salmon and sipping flights of wine at nearby tasting rooms. And if your trip leans more on the adventurous side, the tent-filled resort is surely a welcome end-of-day retreat. After all, who doesn’t want a soft bed after a long day of rafting or a multi-mile hike?

“At Under Canvas, we welcome anyone who is up for an adventure,” says Gaghen “Travelers who want to really connect—with nature, with each other, and with something bigger than their everyday routine. Whether it’s couples, families, or friends looking to explore the outdoors and still enjoy a comfortable bed at night, our guests come for the adventure and stay for the small moments.”

Under Canvas Columbia River Gorge is open for booking through Oct. 26.

The post Gone Glamping appeared first on Seattle magazine.

When Singapore Airlines recently added a new Friday nonstop option from Seattle to Singapore Changi Airport, we noticed the 16-hour-and-20-minute flight is the longest nonstop flight operating from Sea-Tac International Airport. And it made us wonder.

In this court of frequent-flyer opinion, presided over by our self-appointed “travel tribunal,” the matter before us today is deceptively simple: Should a Seattle-based traveler—armed with a passport, a flexible schedule, and a willingness to chase chili crab halfway across the globe—board the plane for a long weekend?

If this sounds absurd, remember: Absurd is trending. As Slate recently noted, travelers are leaning into hyper-short getaways, inspired in part by creator Kevin Droniak, whose Instagram Reels of whirlwind trips (“Yes, Peru is a day trip from the USA!”) have gone viral. Call it the rise of the micro-vacation: people willing to cross oceans to explore as much as possible for insanely brief periods of time. So let us weigh the evidence.

Let the record show that both sides have compelling arguments.

Exhibit A: The Case For

First, there’s the flight itself. Singapore Airlines flies direct between SeaTac and Singapore, and it’s not just a seat on a plane—it’s a fully horizontal, Champagne-drenched exhale at 35,000 feet. Business class feels like a boutique hotel in the sky. Lie-flat beds, silk eye masks, and cabin crew who somehow sense your beverage needs before you’ve even thought of them. The Airbus A350 maintains a cabin pressure equivalent to 6,000 feet, barely higher than Denver. Deep sleep becomes attainable, and the added moisture improves skin, breathing, and mental clarity. For a restaurant-style experience you can Book the Cook, or not—the regular food is magnificent too. Whatever miles and upgrade points you have accumulated, this is precisely the reason to use them.

Lie-flat seats in Singapore Airlines’ business class make the 16-hour trip feel like a hotel in the sky.

Photo courtesy of Singapore Airlines

Then there’s Singapore itself: an entire country that seems to have been optimized for the long-weekend layover. It’s compact, English-speaking, obsessively efficient, and clean enough to inspire guilt in anyone who’s ever spilled something while walking around Pike Place Market.  It’s the ideal locale for sprinting from one memorable visit to another: Chinatown, Little India, Marina Bay Sands, and the shops of Orchard Road are all within 15 minutes of each other. Land  Saturday afternoon and start devouring Hainanese chicken rice before night falls. The humble hawker stalls in Singapore have won Michelin stars—the food is that good.

Shangri-La Singapore’s Valley Wing is luxury and pampering strong enough to sway any jury.

Photo courtesy of Shangri-La Singapore Valley Wing

Accommodations? There are places to rest and then there are places to revel in your own good taste. You’ll be staying in the Shangri-La Singapore’s Valley Wing, the brand’s flagship and still its crown jewel. The decadent happy hour features chef-made canapés and bottomless Negronis. Shang Palace delivers Peking duck and dim sum with the kind of quiet confidence that only comes from decades of excellence. And the hotel’s Origin Bar is a jet-lag antidote shaped like an espresso martini.

Exhibit B: The Case Against

But hold on. Before you trade your usual Bainbridge ferry jaunt for a 16-hour hop across the Pacific, let’s talk about jet lag. The time difference is 15 hours ahead of Seattle. If you leave early Friday and arrive late Saturday, will your body even realize it’s the weekend? Unless you’re a seasoned time zone gymnast, there’s a strong chance you’ll find yourself wide awake at 3 a.m. googling “Is melatonin legal in Singapore?”

Also: Singapore may be small, but it’s dense. It’s a city-state that packs a full country’s worth of sensory overload into a tiny island. Three days is enough to scratch the surface, but you’ll be haunted by everything you didn’t get to do. No time for the beaches of Sentosa? Missed the Peranakan Museum? Didn’t queue up for the Singapore sling at Raffles Hotel Singapore? The FOMO is real.

And let’s not pretend this is a casual getaway. You’re spending big to eat rice and chicken (yes, it’s transcendent, but still), fight your circadian rhythms, and turn your Monday status meeting into a Zoom-in-a-hotel-robe situation.

Closing Arguments

Is this trip sensible? Absolutely not. Is it gloriously indulgent, unreasonably rewarding, and filled with the kind of stories that begin with “When I was just in Singapore—over the weekend—I had the most amazing…”? Without a doubt.

The Verdict

For the energetic, points-rich, adventure-ready Seattleite, we find in favor of the trip. Life is short. That chili crab is not coming to you. Going to Singapore for three exhilarating days is far better than not going at all. Just nap aggressively on the blissful return flight, and tell your coworkers your Monday morning kopi came with a side of kaya toast.

The post A Long Weekend in Singapore? appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Right now, Woodinville has a fresh claim to fame. In July, Tenor Wines made Washington State history when its 2022 La Reyna Blanca Vineyard Chardonnay earned a perfect 100-point score from wine critic Virginie Boone. The first dry white wine in Washington to achieve the distinction, it’s a win for Tenor and for the Royal Slope AVA, where grapes grow on a sun-drenched plateau overlooking the Columbia River. For Washington winemaking, it’s a watershed moment—proof the state’s wines belong on the same stage as the best of France and California.

At Avallé’s Winemaker Studio the ‘22 Reyna Blanca has—naturally—sold out, but you can taste the full range of their ambitious portfolio from Tenor, Jaine, and Matthews. Bryan Otis, owner of Avallé, is committed to showcasing the most elite grapes from the Columbia Valley and is confident enough to stack them against any wines in the world. It’s a subtle but important transition that mirrors California’s Judgment of Paris moment–when a wine region unmistakably takes its place alongside the world’s best.

But Woodinville isn’t only about chasing trophies. Destination wineries like Sparkman Cellars and DeLille Cellars have turned the Old Redhook Brewery campus into a sleek gathering place. The locals rave about Long Shadows, for its wine and design. Around the Hollywood District, Novelty Hill–Januik is known for bold reds paired with modern architecture, Woodinville Whiskey Co. pours spicy rye in a handsome tasting room, and the Hollywood Tavern serves burgers and cocktails in a century-old roadhouse. Each experience spills into the next, making planning simple: spend the afternoon wandering, sipping, and snacking, knowing you’re never more than a few minutes from the next stop.

Two classics anchor the district. Just down the road, Chateau Ste. Michelle keeps its stately presence, with a rose garden picnic that lets guests spread out on lawn chairs among the blooms. The picnic arrives brimming with artisanal bites and a bottle of the winery’s signature wine—rosé, Chardonnay, or red—an experience that feels both timeless and freshly tailored for modern travelers. You could do these things on your own, but having them brought to you makes all the difference. Other elevated experiences include private cabanas, chef’s tables, and vertical tastings. 

The ease extends to where you lay your head after a languid day among the vines. Willows Lodge—sustainable, indulgent, but also rustic—has anchored Woodinville since 2000. From the moment the car is parked and luggage disappears into the lobby, the outside world recedes. The scent of cedar mingles with fresh-cut flowers. Hallways are hushed and carpeted, and each guest room is fitted with a gas fireplace and an oversized soaking tub that begs for a long, candlelit bath. Step outside, and the gardens spread out with winding paths, sculptures tucked into corners, and native plantings buzzing with bees.

The sustainable native gardens at Willows Lodge feature winding paths and native plants.

Photo by Life N Light

The spa deepens the mood. Treatments lean into Northwest botanicals with skilled therapists. Even the compact hydrotherapy pool feels like a discovery, steam rising as rain patters lightly on cedar beams overhead. A massage here is not a quick indulgence but part of the rhythm of the place—a permission slip to slow down.

Dining keeps you rooted. Barking Frog, the lodge’s flagship restaurant, is refined without being fussy, the sort of room where seasonal chanterelles might meet handmade pasta one night and local salmon the next. Executive Chef Lyle Kaku brings precision, warmth, and a Pacific Rim focus, shaping menus that speak to the region’s farms and waters while standing tall against an exceptional wine program.

Seasonal menus, award-winning wines, and craft cocktails at Barking Frog.

Photo courtesy of Willows Lodge

This year marks Willows Lodge’s 25th anniversary, celebrated with special menus and events, but the essence of the lodge isn’t tied to a calendar. It’s in the way the fireplaces are always lit, the spa feels tucked away, and complimentary bicycles wait for guests to wheel off toward the nearest tasting room. A semi-hidden opening in the surrounding walls makes accessing Old Redhook tasting rooms a breeze.

There’s a sweetness in being here before the crowds, before Woodinville grows into its next chapter. More hotel rooms will open soon—the long-anticipated Somm Hotel & Spa continues to tease—but Willows Lodge remains the definitive stay. 

Woodinville may sprawl, but the path to a perfect weekend is surprisingly straightforward: ride bikes from one winery to the next, savor world-class wines, and retreat to a lodge where relaxation is not only encouraged—it’s inevitable.

The post Woodinville’s Refined Escape: Wine, Relaxation, and the Perfect Score appeared first on Seattle magazine.

Suddenly, the voice of our expedition leader cracks over the loudspeaker, first in English, then in German: “Polar Bear! Polar Bear! Eisbär! Eisbär!” Cabin doors fly open, tables empty, and passengers scramble up to the Explorer’s Lounge. On the wall of giant screens stretches a picture-perfect bear, just a shade darker than the endless white behind it.

The Fridtjof Nansen carries a $581,000 gyro-stabilized camera, with a lens so powerful it can probably track a ladybug in a hurricane. As with everything else on this HX (formerly Hurtigruten Expeditions) ship, it is tuned for adventure. But as we stare at the broadcast image, one question electrifies the room: can we actually see this Arctic icon with our own eyes?

Capturing animal life in Greenland.

Left: Ilulissat_Greenland / HX Expeditions. Right: Aningaaq R. Carlsen / Visit Greenland

Greenland itself inspires the same disbelief. A labyrinth of glacier-cut fjords, muskox grazing on improbable patches of green, seabird colonies so dense they lift off from the cliffs like helicopters. Communities where language, tradition, and seasonal rhythms stay synchronized with nature. For travelers it feels less like going on vacation and more like stepping into an alternate reality.

Which is why the new direct seasonal flight from Newark to Nuuk, launched this June on United Airlines, marks a tectonic shift. For the first time since 2007, Americans can reach Greenland in just four hours—with no layovers and no connections. When the New York Times slotted Greenland onto its “52 Places to Visit in 2025,” the momentum felt inevitable: the world’s largest island was opening the door to its most populous neighbor.

Ilulissat

Photo courtesy of HX Expeditions

Hiking near Sisimiut.

Photo courtesy of HX Expeditions

Instead of kowtowing to foreigners by extracting resources buried beneath its fragile ice sheet, Greenland is channeling its resources into enticing travelers. The capital city, Nuuk, opened a revamped airport last year, with a longer runway to accommodate larger planes. Another international airport comes online next year up the coast in Ilulissat—home to seductive fjords, massive glaciers, and iridescent icebergs as far as the eye can see. The strategy is deliberate: to protect culture and nature and build an economy strong enough to resist the seductions of intruders. Talk to locals and one theme repeats—what they want most is self-determination. Tourism is the means to get there.

And the polar bear? Yes, we see it—first in binoculars, then unmistakably with our own eyes. A solitary figure on the ice, peeking at the visitors as we slowly drift away. As the ship moves, so does the bear. Slipping into the water then jumping powerfully onto another iceberg, paws on the ledge with a quizzical face. A first contact filled with mutual curiosity, and it will not be the last.

Clockwise: Qeqertarsuaq | Sisimiut | Itilleq

Photos by Kim Rormark / HX Expeditions

Greenland holds more stories than one fleeting encounter. The capital offers immediate treasures for new arrivals: locally owned hotels and tours, museums, cafés, and a destination swimming pool. A thousand miles farther north in Qaanaaq, the northernmost indigenous town on Earth continues to hunt with dog sleds and harpoons, living by traditions as old as the pyramids. That is where Greenland’s past and future collide—and where the next story awaits.

The post Dispatches from Greenland, Part One: Touching Down on the Edge of the Arctic appeared first on Seattle magazine.

From the diRosa Center for Contemporary Art and The Donum Estate in Northern California to Estancia Colomé in Argentina, which houses the world’s only museum of artwork by light and space artist James Turrell, the natural open spaces offered by vineyards and their settings provide for an ideal multi-sensory art experience. Through walking the land, seeing and breathing in parts of the production process, and tasting the wine cultivated by vintners across time and generations, the art tourist’s mind and body open to a heightened awareness of the senses.

On a recent trip to Italy, I visited the Castello di Ama winery in the Tuscany region. Lured by images of artwork by Jenny Holzer and Hiroshi Sugimoto, my travel companion and I signed up for a wine tour and tasting with the promise of seeing some of the winery’s art collections. 

Castello di Ama

Photo courtesy of Castello di Ama

While we knew that seeing installations and sculpture wouldn’t be the focus of the guided experience, it could provide access and proximity to the artworks on site. And we encountered them at various turns while touring the vineyard’s production areas, from handwritten haiku decorating the wall-mounted lids of barrels placed around the facility to a piece encountered in the near total darkness of the wine cellar.

Suspended from the ceiling of the wine vault are blown glass decanters in six different forms. The artist Chen Zhen designed the sculptural vessels to suggest the internal organs of the human body.

Chen Zhen’s glass wine decanters in the shapes of six vital organs.

Photo courtesy of Castello di Ama

The experience of encountering art in a non-traditional art space like Castello di Ama requires both curiosity and an adventurous streak. Some artworks like Cristina Iglesias’ Towards the Ground or Daniel Buren’s Sulle Vigne: Punti di Visti  are installed in plain sight within a courtyard and sweeping viewpoint, while interacting with the environments where they have been placed. 

Iglesias’ ‘Towards the Ground.’

Photo by Yeshe Lhamo

But Hiroshi Sugimoto’s sculpture Confession of Zero and Anish Kapoor’s αἷμα are both sited inside ancient chapels. A visitor must cross beyond the devotional threshold to peek beyond what’s obvious, to look behind a door, or go past an altar. And when you do, the aesthetic reward of finding the prize in your own curated art scavenger hunt feels immeasurable. Sugimoto’s delicately balanced koan evokes cave formations, while Kapoor’s luminous red void resembles nothing less than a fiery portal to the underworld.

‘αἷμα‘ by Anish Kapoor.

Photo courtesy of Castello di Ama

The crown jewel of the Castello di Ama collections should only be accessed with a guide. My travel companion and I were determined enough to go renegade and hike into the vineyards in search of the Jenny Holzer installation. But by this time, we’d established a deep respect for the land and an appreciation for our Italian hosts who stewarded it.

After wrapping up a large sale of wine to some tourists from Fresno, our guide and her co-worker offered to walk us down to the site. Giddy from the wine, I couldn’t quite believe what we smelled and saw. Holzer’s work is widely known for her use of technology—electronic signage and text, and video projections executed at a massive public scale that grabs a person’s attention. 

Per Ama is a manmade pond surrounded by helichrysum, a fragrant aromatic shrub that’s a close relative to the sunflower family. The scent is used in perfumes and aromatic candles sold at the vineyard’s gift shop. But out in the open air, the plant transforms the environment before you even arrive at Holzer’s piece. The artist’s signature use of text appears in this art offering to the land through poems engraved onto stones. One is placed near the shore of the pond. The other is carefully hidden in the environment, within view of the water and near where wild mint flourishes.  

Helichrysum surrounds the manmade pond at Castello di Ama, part of New York artist Jenny Holzer’s installation.

Photo courtesy of Castello di Ama

A poem engraved in stone near the water’s edge.

Photo by Yeshe Lhamo

The post Art Among the Vines appeared first on Seattle magazine.