Louisa Turner

Milos is what Greece looked like before the world caught on. It is small enough to feel like a secret (it’s not anymore) and raw enough to feel real—fishing villages that actually fish, tavernas without QR codes, and a coastline so dramatic it looks invented. The nature here is like nowhere else in the Mediterranean: lunar white rock formations, volcanic beaches, water in shades of blue that don’t have names yet. It is the kind of place that recalibrates something in you, and the kind of place you will spend years trying to get other people to visit, while quietly hoping they don’t.

Hotel Casa Monti isn’t just a place to sleep in Rome—it's a place to actually feel Rome. Tucked into the charming Monti neighborhood, it sits at the heart of one of the city’s most authentic and walkable quartieri, far from the tourist bustle yet steps from everything that makes Rome magical. The design is intimate and carefully considered, with a warmth that makes you feel like a guest in someone’s beautifully curated home rather than just another hotel room.

Miami pool season is also escape-the-winter season, which means you have approximately zero days to waste on a mediocre experience. Consider this your shortcut.

Abu Dhabi does not need to try as hard as its neighbor, and that is exactly what makes it special. The pace is slower, the architecture is more considered, and the beach at Saadiyat Island looks like something between the Maldives and the Amalfi Coast. Same sun, same luxury, completely different energy. Three days here will change your mind about the Middle East entirely.

There is nothing particularly chic about elbowing your way past influencers in sequins dancing on tables. While I can absolutely curate that version too, this is not it. What I am sharing here is the understated South of France, for those who care more about design than DJ booths and more about long lunches than loud entrances.

Sweden celebrates summer harder than anywhere else in the world, and Midsommar is the proof. This is the one weekend a year when the normally reserved Swedes abandon all composure, weave flowers into their hair, dance around a pole in a meadow, and drink schnapps at noon. The city empties out, the archipelago fills up, and the light never quite disappears. Come for curated chaos. Stay for the magic.