Photo by Ron Bernthal

From the mid 1950s to the late 1980s,  Fort Lauderdale was “Spring Break Capital of the World,” with beachfront hotels bringing in enough revenue to carry them throughnthe year.

The city eventually grew tired, though, of seeing its reputation sinking faster than vodka seeping into sand.

After an ambitious 20-year revitalization plan, striking new hotels line the city’s beachfront, and downtown’s River Walk is a beautiful, upscale entertainment district.

These days it is the cultural venues, high-end restaurants, several yacht-filled marinas, and trendy night-spots that draw visitors to the city, on a year-round basis.

It’s taken 100 years to get to this point.

Back in 1911, a small, quiet village along the New River, which had grown to about fifty residents since the railroad arrived, was incorporated as the City of Fort Lauderdale.

The Stranahan House still stands as the oldest building in the city, a small, wooden house with a front porch overlooking the New River.

“The story of the Stranahan House is the story of Fort Lauderdale,” says April Kirk, Executive Director of the historic house and museum, a national landmark.

“Our entire history as a city started here, on this very site, when this spot was a trading post for the local Seminoles,” she adds. “It’s great that this structure was preserved and restored, and is open to any visitors who want to experience what early Florida used to be like.”

Fort Lauderdale’s growth continued through the Florida land boom of the early 1920s, but in 1926 the city was hit by a devastating hurricane that killed 350 residents in the region, and damaged much of the city. Coupled with the stock market crash three years later, total recovery took years,

Photo courtesy of Arts & Entertainment District

Even into the late 1980s, Fort Lauderdale remained a small town, living within the huge shadow of Miami, 25 miles to the south.

But in recent years, it’s worked hard to find a place for itself.

Hotel companies are taking note of Fort Lauderdale’s growing upscale tourism market. A deluxe Ritz Carlton is on the beach now, along with a trendy W Hotel.

The newest hotel to open along the city’s beachfront boulevard is B Ocean Fort Lauderdale, part of the expanding B Hotels and Resorts brand. The refurbished hotel, where all 240 deluxe guest rooms have ocean views, perhaps best symbolizes the city’s efforts to reinvent itself.

“There has been a complete renaissance in Fort Lauderdale in the past ten to fifteen years,” says Joel Darr, B Ocean’s General Manager.

Photo by Ron Bernthal

“People are coming here throughout the year now, from other cities in Florida for long weekends, and even from Europe. We have something great to offer them.”

Such as the 20-year-old Broward Center for Performing Arts, and the rest of the attractions on the downtown Riverwalk Arts and Entertainment District.

Also here are the Museum of Art, the Museum of Discovery and Science, Himmarshee Village, with its collection of restaurants, clubs and bars, Parker Playhouse, and the Fort Lauderdale History Center.

Fort Lauderdale’s mayor, Rob Dressler, is not content to let the city sit on its laurels of the past two decades, and they want to spend city money on a consulting firm to help Fort Lauderdale formulate a vision for its future.  

What everyone in this city of 166,000 residents seems to want, however, is for the city and its nearby communities to continue to draw visitors by maintaining and expanding the 1991-opened Greater Fort Lauderdale/Broward County Convention Center; Port Everglades, the nation’s third busiest cruise port; and Fort Lauderdale/Hollywood International Airport (FLL), the fastest-growing major airport in the country building.

These three facilities, along with The Wave, a proposed 2.7-mile electric streetcar system costing $125 million, using federal, state, and local funding, is being planned for downtown Fort Lauderdale in the near future.

For this ever-changing city, time never stands still.

Editor’s note: This is the latest in a series of guest posts from Mr & Mrs Smith:

On a recent 17-hour layover in Singapore en route from London to Melbourne, I made every hour count and found plenty more to do for a lengthier stop next time.

Touchdown  Changi Airport is regularly voted the world’s favorite, with distractions a-plenty for those in transit. Cool off in the rooftop swimming pool, float through the butterfly garden, have a foot massage or just grab a shower before heading into the city. The left-luggage service is slick, and a taxi into town takes about 20 minutes (the MRT tube ride takes 30).

The Fullerton Bay Hotel

Refuel Kick off with brunch at the chic waterside café Landing Point in The Fullerton Bay Hotel on Marina Bay, handy for ogling the new Louis Vuitton Island Maison, a glam angled-glass emporium perched bayside.

Culture Hit The Singapore Art Museum is set in a striking white-domed heritage building; I love the mix of traditional Chinese watercolors and out-there interactive art. Its Dome Café does a mean iced coffee, too.

Power Lunch Boost flagging energy levels with a Nihon salad (cue delicious soy-glazed salmon) at the airy, elegant PS Café on level two of the Palais Renaissance mall. Views out over Orchard Road’s main shopping drag mean you can people-watch while you eat.

Mega-shopping Hit cutting-edge megamall Ion Orchard, a dramatic edifice with a damaging amount of fashion brands inside. Go designer with Diane von Furstenberg, Dior Homme or Chanel; or sample niche labels such as Aussie handbag favourite Mimco.

Afterwards, check out H&M’s new flagship store, or for even more stylish mall action, try Paragon or Takashimaya. For quirky fashion, design and vintage finds, head to Haji Lane in Kampong Glam (aka the Arab Quarter), a tiny alley adored by the style set.

Afternoon Amble Wander Chinatown’s pretty temples, markets and shop-lined streets for a taste of old Singapore. If you need a coffee or cooling drink, pull up a pew at retro-hip Eight Café Bar.

Sunset Show Stroll Singapore River’s banks near Clarke Quay to watch dusk fall. Monuments, passing boats and waterside restaurants compete for your attention.

Auriga Spa at the Capella Singapore

Drinks with a View Take to La Terraza rooftop bar atop Screening Room for chill-out tunes, seductive views, great cocktails and films, too.

Dine Around Head a few doors up to number 24, to snack on French wine and cheese at Le Carillon de L’Angelus, one of several Gallic watering-holes in this atmospheric quarter. For fine Singaporean dining in nearby Chinatown, book a table at Restaurant André, helmed by well-known chef, André Chiang. Meanwhile, chef Ryan Clift, cooks up a storm at the nearby Tippling Club, which serves up delicious bar snacks as well as creative tasting menus.

Settle In If you’re stopping over for a few days, consider retreating to serene Capella Singapore on Sentosa Island, a 15-minute drive south of the central business district. With sea-view rooms, a cool pool, Chinese fine-dining at Cassia restaurant and respected Auriga spa, it’s the perfect pampering pit stop for unwinding between flights.

See Mr & Mrs Smith’s Singapore destination guide for more inspiration or book a stay at one of many boutique hotels in town.

Every so often, a new city comes along to impress me, making me wonder: Where have you been all my life?

That was my reaction to Wilmington, Delaware., a historic city I’d often seen from Amtrak or the interstate but always passed through. Until recently, that is, when growing curiosity finally lured me into town.

The largest city in the second-smallest state, Wilmington grew from a Swedish settlement in 1638 to an industrial port that made flour, textiles, railroad cars, ships—and gunpowder, which transformed a plucky clan of French immigrants called the du Ponts into one of America’s foremost families.

They were to have an enormous influence on the city’s economy and culture. Wilmington is home base for visiting du Pont mills and mansions in the Brandywine Valley just outside town.

But since the city itself was less familiar, I started there, on Rodney Square, a City Beautiful plaza wrapped with noble civic landmarks and the DuPont Co.’s huge headquarters (1905-31) with its Hotel du Pont.

My favorite landmark was the 1922 public library (above), built on land given by Pierre S. du Pont. I ogled its terra cotta frieze and plain stone center section, the result of axing a planned portico, as stone owls studied me from second-story windows.

A few blocks south on Market Street, I spied the Grand Opera House, built in 1871 at the peak of Second Empire bravura, with a look-at-me facade of vigorously articulated cast iron. Its restoration in the 1970s was a big deal for American preservation, then getting its feet wet.

It was a treat to tour the auditorium—a knockout with its horseshoe balcony, ornate ceiling murals, and iron balustrade—and learn that the Masonic lodges that built the Opera House still occupy its top floors.

Philadelphia architect Frank Furness designed the nearby Security Trust bank (1885), a beauty that charms with its take on the Queen Anne style.

Opposite stands the prim Old Town Hall (1800), owned by the Delaware Historical Society; its history museum fills an ex-Woolworth’s next door. The society also moved six 18th-century houses to the block—dubbing the result Willingtown Square, after the city’s first name.

The Society’s library reuses the stunning Art Deco Artisan’s Savings Bank (1930). That Deco had a prolific day on Market is further evidenced by the old Delmarva Power and Light building up the street.

There’s also a new old kid on the block: The renovated Queen Theater building (1873) opened this spring as World Café Live, a restaurant and popular music venue. South from here, the city has pushed even more rehab, including a long row of spiffed-up 18th-to-early-20th-century buildings called Ships Tavern Mews, which won a 2005 National Trust for Historic Preservation Honor Award.

Market descends to the Christina River waterfront, which public and private forces are reviving with shops, restaurants, housing, and museums in buildings old and new. The handsome Riverwalk links them all.

My river walk began at Furness’ Wilmington rail station (1908), once known as Pennsylvania Railroad Station, but renamed by Amtrak for former frequent rider, now Vice President, Joe Biden

Grand Opera House. Photos by Arnold Berke

Next door is Furness’ 1906 Pennsylvania Building, and a block away his 1888 B&O station. Between, in witty reference to the three, is a neo-Victorian parking garage (2004). I beheld another nod to history sailing down the Christina—a replica of the Kalmar Nyckel, the Swedish ship that landed near here in 1638.

Before leaving town, I dropped in at the Delaware Center for the Contemporary Arts, a non-collecting museum of artists’ studios and galleries in an early 20th-century railroad-car assembly plant. Installations with titles like “Splinters” and “Perforations” and “We Are Our Stuff” fill the spaces.

I chatted with Executive Director Maxine Gaiber about the center, and about getting visitors to Wilmington. Gesturing toward the Amtrak line that runs right behind the building, she declared, “I want to put up a big sign that reads ‘Get … off … the … train!’”

Great advice.

But this steep, walled city and its stone buildings have a very real history, serving as the capital of what was indeed known as New France from 1608 to 1763.

Built on three levels to protect itself from enemies who might storm from the port below, the city’s spiraling tiers each offer distinct personalities.

The highest level is home to the Parliament of the province of Quebec, which sits across from the Hilton Hotel and the Convention Center.

Influenced by the design of the Louvre Museum, the turn-of-the-century Parliament Building’s many statues reflect Quebecois pride in the people who struggled to found French Canada on the banks of the mighty St. Lawrence River.

There is an oasis of greenery here, so serene that it’s hard to imagine the bloodshed that soaked what is called Battlefields Park, site of a decisive battle between French and British troops in 1759. The British won the battle but the French won the linguistic and cultural war.

The nearby fine arts museum, the Musee National des Beaux-Arts du Quebec is one example —  it will surprise anyone who has not followed the great Quebec 20^th century artists like abstract exprssionist Jean-Paul Riopelle, whose bold splashes of color and fiery personal life earned him the nickname, the “wild Canadian.”

It’s on Quebec City’s middle level, imperiously guarded by the Chateau Frontenac Hotel, that much of the city’s action takes place. Opened in l893, the castle-like hotel, now a Fairmont was part of the Canadian Pacific line that served affluent train travelers. Today, it’s perfect for a Sunday morning stroll along the esplanade overlooking the river, before moving inside for a brunch that will keep you full all day long.

Photos by JoAnn Greco

Leading up to the Frontenac, Rue Saint- Jean, the colorful main street, curves in and outside the stone city gate. Wherever you walk on St. Jean you’ll find restaurants, some of the oldest grocery stores in North America, and boutiques.

La Maison Simons stands out — it’s an old department store that still sells tempting, and low-cost, clothing. Explore the side streets, too, for some great photo ops.

In this city of festivals, each season brings new events. Place d’Youville, which bisects Rue Saint-Jean bisects, offers one of the main outdoor stages. In the winter, a skating rink holds pride of place. And many of the events tied to the Winter Carnival (Jan 27-Feb 12, 2012) — billed as the world’s largest — are centered here, where revelers romp in the snow and enjoy a seemingly endless array of floats and street parties.

To get to the Lower Town, walk down the steps or take the Funicular on Dufferin Terrace, across from the Chateau Frontenac. You’ll find yourself in Place Royale, the first permanent settlement in North America, dating back to 1608. Here, too, is one of the oldest stone churches in the continent, Notre-Dame-des-Victoires.

Nearby, there’s a permanent interactive exhibition on the history of Old Quebec at the Centre d’interpretation de la vie urbaine de la ville de Quebec. It includes a huge scale model of Quebec City in 1635, with archeological artrifacts and a augmented reality film.  

Keep walking downhill and you’re in the Old Port. There’s a lot to do here, from browsing the antique stores on Rues Saint-Pierre and Saint-Paul, to visiting the farmer’s market, right on the water.

Even in winter there are unique products like Quebec cheese and unadulterated wild blueberry juice.

Many of the buildings in the Old Port were once banks and warehouses — the boutique hotel Dominion 1912 is an example; it used to house Dominion Fish and Fruit, Ltd.

Down here at wintertime, the river takes on an icy cast and the looming grain silos glow with mystery and power. No matter the season, though, Quebec City succeeds on, well, many levels.

Tableside service at Brennan's; photo by Nicole Pensiero

Everything seemed in place during a recent breakfast at Brennan’s, one of the iconic restaurants in New Orleans’ French Quarter.

The Bananas Foster, the old world elegance and the dedicated service struck all the right notes. Having not been back to NoLa since before Hurricane Katrina  battered the city in 2005, it seemed like little had changed. There are more restaurants now than in 2005 and other attractions, including Pat O’Brien’s, Preservation Hall and the New Orleans School of Cooking, hummed with activity.

As I learned from chatting with locals, however, Brennan’s took quite a hit from the storm, despite it largely sparing the Quarter.

The restaurant closed for nearly a year, having suffered major damage from its second-story refrigerators leaking through to the first floor. Its wine collection, valued in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, was ruined.

Today, Brennan’s looks like as pristine as ever, as does another local landmark, the Roosevelt Hotel. The 118-year-old property, formerly known as the Fairmont, closed for four years after Katrina, reopening in 2009 following a $145 million renovation.

During my fall stay, the relaunch of the Hyatt Regency marked another chapter in NoLa’s post-Katrina rebirth. The 1,193-room hotel, which housed recovery crews, city officials and medical personnel during and after the storm, is practically new again, thanks to a $275 million upgrade.

The revamping of the 32-story property is part of $8 billion in economic development in New Orleans that also includes a new trolley system, medical district, Superdome enhancements, housing and retail.

While it’s impressive to see the French Quarter looking perhaps even cleaner than before, the real proof of the recovery is in the Lower 9th Ward. The impoverished neighborhood came to symbolize all that went wrong during and after the storm, and has since attracted much attention from Oprah Winfrey, Brad Pitt and other celebrities and much investment.

A new home built by the Make It Right Foundation; photo by JoAnn Greco

I checked out the Lower 9th Ward during a city tour offered by Cajun Encounters. Although Pitt’s Make It Right Foundation and other charitable groups have rebuilt scores of houses, much work remains to be done.

The 9th Ward I saw offered a stark contrast between renovated low-income housing –– including the impressive Habitat for Humanity Musicians Village –– and abandoned, still-boarded up homes, many marked with the FEMA “X” designating whether bodies of hurricane victims were found inside.

Few businesses were open, although there is talk of a supermarket being built.

In contrast to the liveliness of the Quarter, the Lower 9th still felt like a ghost town. The population is now 5,500 –– one-third of its pre-Katrina numbers.

Still, I felt encouraged by seeing so many brightly painted, “shotgun” style homes in its Holy Cross section.

Perhaps, locals say, it’s just a matter of time before the Lower 9th Ward starts catching up to the Quarter and some others parts of the city.

To borrow from the NoLa’s unofficial slogan, I hope the good times get rolling along there soon.

Palermo Cathedral Crypt; by Allie Caulfield

Many cities carry the weight of preconception, but few struggle under Palermo’s troublesome burden: conquest, assassination, gang warfare, petty crime and political corruption. The result of such presumption is violence and death. The everyday reality of a visit to the Sicilian capital is very different and worries dissipate once you have left the safety of your hotel and the city’s treasures slowly reveal themselves.

It’s an undeniable fact, however, that death is far more alive here than in any other European city; it may not be the media’s morbid stereotype, but a rather more gentle, familial experience.

Like Mexico, Sicily celebrates the “Day of the Dead.” It’s only in recent years that local children have been receiving presents from Santa Claus; previously, gifts would only appear on All Saints Day, mysterious offerings from dead relatives. Families go to the cemetery to leave flowers and light candles at the gravesides of the deceased, spending time in the company of their departed loved-ones. More than a celebration of death, it’s a celebration of life, a way of forging links between the generations –– both dead and alive.

Entrance to Capuchin Monastery crypt; by Andrew and Suzanne Edwards

Cemeteries in Palermo resemble ornate, well-designed mini-villages. The cemetery of the Capuchin Monastery in Piazza Cappuccini has avenues lined with family tombs, which are often enclosed by marble atriums complete with chairs for quiet contemplation.

The less wealthy are entombed in locker-like wall structures or clearly delineated graves –– all of which are in immaculate condition. The white marble, sculpted angels and floral arrangements express a calm serenity, not always achievable in life.

Palermo is not short of crypts. The arched niches and stonework vaults of the cathedral house the intricately carved sarcophagi of Sicily’s ecclesiastical aristocracy. The bishops sleep in their individual tombs under the protective cloak of the original Romanesque architecture which hides more than one secret tunnel spiraling away beneath Corso Vittorio Emanuele above.

Walking the cemeteries and cathedral crypt, death remains veiled in stone. It is possible, nevertheless, to stare it in the face. The unassuming Capuchin Monastery, whose cemetery seemed so full of light, has a darker vision concealed within its catacombs. In 1599 the first of 8,000 bodies was placed into its niche. The dressed, mummified remains of these former citizens of Palermo are on view to visitors.

As you step from bright sunlight into the monochrome tunnel leading down to the crypt, cooler drafts of air brush your face. It’s this atmosphere and the rock, together with some early chemical experimentation, that have kept these corpses in a state of semi-mummification. When you reach the crypt, rows of wall-mounted bodies peer down at you from their galleries, inverting the observer’s role. It’s impossible for you to escape unnoticed.

You are compelled to meet their gaze. Some are little more than skeletons with empty eye sockets, whilst some maintain life-like expressions, seemingly caught in mid sentence. The majority gape and leer in grotesque poses ranging from the startling to the pseudo-comic. A due degree of reverence vies with the inevitable feelings of horror and dark humor as you wander the passageways.

Capuchin Monastery; by Andrew and Suzanne Edwards

This style of burial became so popular that the original population of Capuchin monks gave way to the wider citizenry. Aisles of professionals, from doctors and lawyers to professors and soldiers, line the walls in their own designated galleries. Dressed in the uniform of their trade, they shrivel away amongst the folds of velvet and lace.

The most arresting and iconic image from the crypt is that of Rosalia Lombardo. One of the last bodies to be entombed in the 1920s, this small child was injected with a mixture of chemicals that have preserved her, virtually intact. Her small corpse, swathed in cloth, lies in a small glass coffin. Wearing a pink satin ribbon in her light brown hair and a peaceful expression, she appears to be merely asleep.

Sicilians often refer to death as a parente noioso, an annoying relative that you have to visit from time to time. The relief at leaving the clutches of such an ancestor is made abundantly clear when you climb back up the steps from the Capuchin crypt into the land of the living.

Ippolito Pindemonte, in his poem Sepulchres, made the point that the catacombs are a world where life and death were never so united. This sentiment echoes across Palermo’s entire urban landscape.

Mount Etna; by gnuckx

When Zeus threw Typhen into the mouth of Etna, he couldn’t have realized how long his anger would last.  Whether a mythical battle of the Gods or a geological time bomb, Sicily’s famous mountain is spitting its revenge once again.

The city at its base, Catania, continues with business as usual –– but how, in the face of such repeated volcanic provocation? The autostrada into Catania is bordered with orange and lemon groves that colonize the foothills of the mountain itself and flourish on the ash-rich soil spewed from the mouth of this benign yet capricious dictator. The Catanese have a love-hate relationship with “their” mountain.

It has provided them with the very building blocks for their city, the dark lava stone which, accompanied with the inherent pollution of any Italian town, gives the center a rather somber appearance. This sobriety, however, isn’t reflected in the people themselves, but there is a price to pay for striking a deal to access Typhen’s riches.

Amenano Fountain in Piazza del Duomo; by Andrew and Suzanne Edwards

The threat of retribution hangs over the town’s subjects and it’s not surprising that they have a carpe diem attitude. A similar situation faces many cities around the world, and this lust for life can manifest itself in two ways: crime and hedonism.

The outer-lying districts, such as Librino, have a reputation for criminal activity. The uniform graffitied high rises provide a breeding ground for nascent gangsters, but there is hope in the shape of the altruistic efforts of the likes of Antonio Presti, whose Fiumara d’Arte organization is using the potential of art to re-direct the energies of the area’s youth.

Leaving the projects for the heart of the city, the atmosphere becomes more light-hearted and hedonistic. The presence of a university near the central Piazza del Duomo is even more reason for Catania to be a party town.

The bars and nightlife spill from Via Etnea, the partially pedestrianized main thoroughfare leading from the cathedral.

If you want to start a late night with a meal, the best bet is seafood, which will have been freshly bought from the market around Porta Uzeda. Gigantic tuna fish and tiny sardines on ice vie for space among the fresh mussels, clams and sea urchins. Try the Antica Marina trattoria in Via Pardo which couldn’t have closer access to its primary ingredients.

There was a time when the local wines were mass-produced contributors to the European wine lake.  An upsurge in interest and Etna’s rich soils have combined to produce excellent wines from the local grape varieties such as Nero d’Avola, Grecanico and Catarratto. If you prefer spirits or a beer, there are plenty of options from the pub alternativo to the ubiquitous Irish bar which serves Guinness with an incongruous mixture of pastas and bar snacks.

The scene along Via Etnea; by Andrew and Suzanne Edwards

Food and drink are not Catania’s only pleasures. The famous Italian fashion scene makes a luxurious appearance along Via Etnea and its intersecting neighbor, Via Emanuele. Large department stores, like La Rinascente, sit cheek by jowl with expensive boutiques selling Versace, Armani and Gucci.

The Catanese local government takes great pains to keep the shopping districts clean. The roads are constantly patrolled by motorized cleaners spraying high-pressured jets of water onto large revolving brushes –– a nightmare for exquisitely dressed Italian ladies trying to dodge the bleachy splash-back.

The name Bellini is to be found all over Catania. The composer has villas, a theater and even a pasta dish named in his honor.

A lesser known figure is the poet, Domenico Tempio. His occasionally erotically-charged poetry scandalized early 19th century society, and he fell foul of the censor. His works, rediscovered in the second half of the 20th century, are a fitting monument to the city’s more sybaritic side. His decaying residence is opposite Piazza San Placido, and the balcony is still held up by blackened figures in lascivious poses. Tempio was once destined for the church, but his future lay elsewhere.

The church, though, does play a key role in the city’s calendar. The February Festa di Sant’ Agata is one of Europe’s biggest  religious processions –– a chance for the city to thank its revered saint and to pray for her continued protection in the coming year.

A fervent belief is the only power they really have in the face of nature’s unstoppable force. Let’s hope they don’t have to invoke her too soon.

The vineyard at Rutini Wines; by Marla Cimini

Although Mendoza, Argentina, is off the tourism map compared to Buenos Aires –– its much bigger and more visited urban counterpart –– this small city is definitely ready for its close up.

The capital of Argentina’s Mendoza province offers all the things I like about cities –– great cafes and restaurants, hip boutiques, picturesque squares and fun people-watching –– with a foodie bonus: There are hundreds of wineries located just outside the city limits.

I visited Mendoza recently for Masters of Food and Wine, a four-day culinary event  sponsored by the Park Hyatt Mendoza that features local cuisine and wines.

The event pairs local chefs with professionals from around the world, and includes dinners at local wineries, cooking classes and even a polo exhibition. But really any time of the year is a good one for a food- and wine-focused visit.

Surrounding the city are rolling hills dotted with hundreds of vineyards and olive groves, with the Andes as a dramatic backdrop. Starting at the Mendoza limits, the elevation steadily rises towards the Andes, creating a series of microclimates.

Braised lamb dish at Zuccardi Family Winery; by M. Alvarez

The varied weather allows winemakers to grow a wider range of complex and balanced varietals than one might find in other wine-growing regions of the country.

The result is a greater number of wines –– notably chardonnay, tempranillo and cabernet sauvignon –– beyond Argentina’s more typical malbec. Mendoza’s  thousands of acres of vines also depend not on rainfall, but on snow melting off the jagged range separating Argentina from Chile.

Among my favorite stops on my wine tour were the Zuccardi Family Winery, a top exporter  that’s still run by father, Jose Alberto, and his children, Sebastian, Miguel and Julia.

There, I enjoyed a fabulous lunch, as part of the Masters event, featuring braised lamb with endive, pumpkin marmalade and mushrooms, and a dessert of organic caviar with raspberry yolk and eucalyptus ice cream.

Other wortwhile stops included Rutini Wines, which dates to 1885 and is one of the county’s oldest and biggest wineries, and Terrazas de los Andes, which offers a six-room guest house for anyone who wants to have an authentic estancia experience.

Plaza Independencia; courtesy of Secretaria de Turismo de Mendoza

After sipping and tasting in the mountains all day, I returned to my hotel on the city’s main Plaza Independencia for a proper siesta, before heading out for an evening’s stroll.

The pedestrian-only Aristides Villanueva became a favorite destination for its lively all-night bars and upscale restaurants.

But even a foodie can’t live on great meals and wine alone: I also took advantage of the huge selection of handmade leather goods, and snapped up a purse that was priced to move at a trendy boutique.

Belleville's Chez Yu, home of the banh mi.

Paris, that most romantic of cities, is a real heartbreaker for travelers on a budget.

Like New York, London and other world capitals, you’ll pay dearly for hotels –– a moderately priced room runs upwards of $200 a night –– as well as meals, clothing and other expenses.

For Americans, the euro’s advantage over the dollar means an automatic 35 to 40 percent hike on every pain au chocolat, steak frites and museum entrance.

During a recent visit, I tried to make every one of my precious euros count.

My first order of business was to reduce the cost of sleeping: Could I find a cheap place without sacrificing location or style?

I lucked out with a tiny studio apartment for just $550 a week in the heart of the Marais, through the online booking site, Paris Autrement.

Although less than 150 square feet, the compact space included a living area, queen-size loft bed, fully-equipped kitchenette, marble-lined bath and all-important Wi-Fi service.

With my own cooking area and fridge, I prepared breakfast, lunches and even the occasional dinner. But I didn’t come to Paris to stay at home. I still took advantage of the City of Lights, by mixing in bargains with the boutique.

My tiny flat; photos by Robert DiGiacomo

Here’s how I allocated my budget:

Cafe and conversation A coffee at a sidewalk table –– street view included –– cost just 2 euros or $2.75.

No need to pimp your ride The metro got me everywhere for 1.70 euro or about $2.35; buying 10 rides for 12 euro reduced the price to 1.20 euro or about $1.65.

Weather permitting, the Velib shared bike service cost as little as 1 euro or about $1.37 to get from place to place.

The wonders of the supermarket Cheese, wine and salted butter were all bargains at the local grocery store. Yes, it is possible to enjoy a 2-euro bottle of red. The key is to let it breathe, before quaffing.

The plat du jour –– friend or frenemy? Dinner for one at Le Taste Monde, an upscale restaurant near Place de la Madeleine known for its extensive wine list, cost 19 Euros or $26, for the two-course special menu. I chose a starter of a cheese tart, followed by filet of beef with sinfully rich Dauphinoise-style potatoes.

However, when I spent 15 Euros or $21 on a two-course special at a lesser restaurant, I regretted it. The extra $6 made the difference between a memorable meal and an ordinary one.

The signature falafel at L'As

Go ethnic Mix up the rich French food with lighter Vietnamese and other Asian meals; your heart and wallet will thank you.

A Vietnamese banh mi sandwich in Belleville cost just 3 euro or $4 at Chez Yu, while a plate of 15 shrimp handmade “ravioli”  –– or dumplings –– at Gui Xing ran 5 Euros or just under $7.

In the Marais, the famed L’As du Fallafel lived up to its reputation for offering the best –– and one of the heartiest –– Middle Eastern-style sandwiches for 7 Euros or $9.60; you can eat in or take out for the same price.

Worth a splurge The life-changing macarons at iconic patisserie Pierre Herme come in mouthwatering flavors, such as caramel-sea salt, or white truffle. They make for an affordable luxury at about 2 Euros each or $2.75.

Free is the best number Paris is rich in attractions that don’t cost a centime.

These include museums and art spaces, such as the Musee Carnavalet, which tells the history of the city of Paris; the Musee d’Arte Moderne, which offers a well-edited selection of key modernists; the 104 center, known for its cutting-edge video and other exhibitions; and the Petit Palais, a Beaux Arts masterpiece with photo and other special exhibitions.

The first Sunday of the month, the Louvre, the Musee d’Orsay, and Centre Pompidou, among other museums, offer free admission.

Meanwhile, the great outdoors proved another source for freebies, from the Luxembourg Gardens to the Tuileries to the Jardin des Plantes botanical garden.

Now I know I can always have Paris without breaking the bank.

From the Pudong’s panorama of financial towers to the leafy composure of the French Concession, with stops en route, both well-known and not, this is the sort of experience for which the word “exhilarating” was coined. Since I’d been slogging through Shanghai’s heat, I also enjoyed that rarest of commodities: moving air.

Expat Frenchman Thomas Chabrieres launched Shanghai Sideways in 2008, building on his similar service in Beijing. The bikes are replicas of BMWs from the 1930s, each seating two passengers, one in the sidecar and the other behind the driver-cum-tour guide. Groups of two to six are typical, but up to 20 can ride, choosing from set itineraries — top-ten must-sees, shopping and culture, Shanghai by night — or creating their own.

My group ride began with a pack of cycles growling up to the entrance of our hotel, the ultra-sleek, 66-story, but distinctly un-biker-like Le Royal Meridien.

We hopped in and glided into traffic, moving with the flow when it flowed and cutting through the clots when it didn’t. I relished the busy-noisy incomprehensibility of the passing street scenes, wondering, as I always do in Chinese cities, what really goes on behind those hundreds of unfathomable storefronts — buying, selling, eating, making, living?

We headed up the backside of the Bund – the promenade of gorgeous foreign-built landmarks on the Huangpu River — and crossed Suzhou Creek, stopping at the General Post Office. This huge pile with baroque clock tower, more mittel-Europa than East Asia, was designed in the early 1920s by Scottish architects Stewardson and Spence and reborn as a postal museum in 2006.

I found its story of the Chinese postal system surprisingly absorbing. Even better was the roof garden. One usually views this city from the sidewalk — or the top of very tall buildings. But here, five floors up, I could scan skyline, street life, and urban form in happy combination.

To repurpose an old post office is not unusual. But a slaughterhouse? That was our next stop, an ex-abattoir in the nearby Hongkou district. Named 1933 after the year it was built, the square reinforced-concrete bastion with a circular core has gone from dispatching cows to fomenting culture with edgy shops, restaurants, galleries, and exhibition and performance venues.

Photos courtesy of Shanghai Sideways

Its M.C. Escher-like juxtaposition of raw elements — ramps, columns, bridges, spiral staircases — is heaven for photographers. Beholding the brutalism, I wondered: Would 1933 lease, with wit and poetic justice, to a vegetarian restaurant?

Next we rolled onto the northern Bund — past Broadway Mansions, a 1934 high-rise apartment house renovated as a hotel, and the oft-remodeled Astor House (Pujiang) Hotel, part of which dates to 1858. The windy ride heightened my intoxication at viewing both the Pudong’s mad-modern towers across the Huangpu and the Bund’s raffish elegance on our right.

My favorite was the old Sassoon House with its fetching pyramidal tower, which British financier Victor Sassoon built in 1929, tucking into it the Cathay Hotel, the place to stay in those days. In 2010, it became the Fairmont Peace Hotel. Before turning off the Bund, we passed the 1911 Shanghai Club, a Beaux-Arts tart that, no surprise by this point, has been rebranded a Waldorf-Astoria.

As we sped out Huaihai Road, I delighted once more in the din of daily commerce. The most out-of-the-blue sight (but painted searing hot pink) was a huge new Barbie store. East absorbs west with dolls. (Alas, Mattel shuttered the six-story flagship earlier this month, so I guess the twain, in this case, didn’t meet.)

The hubbub receded as we entered the French Concession, its streets lined with London plane trees and the air a bit cooler. The quarter, France’s power zone from 1849 to 1946, now entices the trendoisie to shop, live, and pose.

After stopping briefly at the former residence of Sun Yatsen, who founded the Chinese republic in 1911 and lived his final years in the house, our ride ended on a quiet lane at the James Cohan Gallery.

Inhabiting a crisp 1936 Bauhaus-style villa that deftly incorporates Chinese and Deco detailing, the gallery, a branch of one in New York, exhibits contemporary art from China and the West. I especially liked the serene and spacious garden at the rear, used for sculpture shows and performances.

Shanghai, you brash rebuilder, will you hold on to scenes like this?

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