Three Perfect Days: Panama City
Story by Chris Sorensen | Photography by Joe Keohane | Hemispheres, January 2016
In the beginning, Panama was water. Then an isthmus formed, a strip of land born of immense tectonic forces that joined the American continents. It's been only a decade and a half since Panama has been entirely on its own, but the postcolonial era is off to a rollicking start: For two years running, Gallup-Healthways has named Panama the happiest place in the world, giving the country high marks in work satisfaction, physical well-being, and sense of community. If you've ever walked the streets of its capital, Panama City, and seen the smiling faces of its citizens, you don't need a statistician to tell you that this is a place defined by optimism and invention, possibility and pride.
In which Joe brunches with a pioneering chef and takes in the canal view from a forested hilltop and a rooftop bar
The first thing that strikes you when you approach Panama City is the skyline. The towers are so densely clustered and slender and bright they look like a geological feature, an effusion of quartz rising from the earth.
I wake up in one of them: the Waldorf Astoria, a sharp-edged block erected in a recent frenzy of construction that is only now starting to abate. My room—done in beige and gold, glass and chrome—has a kind of glow to it. I open the curtains and, beyond the palisade of high-rises, get my first glimpse of the tankers, dozens of them, sitting low in the sea, headed southwest toward the Panama Canal.
Panama City, I've been told, is a “three-shower-a-day kind of place," and I soon discover why. I exit the Waldorf and receive the full brunt of the city's equatorial heat. So, my first order of business is to get myself a straw hat. I stroll along nearby Cinta Costera—a manicured path that snakes along the edge of the bay—toward Victor's Panama Hats. This is not a terribly pedestrian-friendly city—sidewalks are scarce and the driving erratic—so Cinta Costera is a popular spot. Joggers jog, families relax, vendors vend, travel writers pour sweat.
I duck back into the Waldorf, exchange knowing looks with the doorman, change into shorts, and smuggle out a washcloth for brow-mopping duty, as I don't think the hat will be sufficient. I am about to meet a prominent Panamanian, after all, and I want to look at least halfway presentable.
Panama City's towers seen from Cerro Ancón
Elena Hernández is the founder of the Panamá Gastronómica food festival. We meet at the Nina Concept Store, a trendy design shop, gallery, and café owned by her brother Manuel. While we try the brunch offerings—corn arepas with tuna and cilantro mayonnaise, eggs Benedict with salmon on brioche (baked by Hernández), pancakes, and local fruit—she tells me her story.
She was born in New York City and moved here when she was around 4 years old. After dropping out of law school, she attended Le Cordon Bleu in Paris. “When I came back, there were only maybe five chefs in Panama," she says. “I was, like, the second woman." Cooking was seen as a low profession in a place where parents wanted their kids to be doctors, lawyers, and engineers, and most favored European- and American-style food.
After working in several restaurants, Hernández opened Panama's first private cooking school. Then she created Panamá Gastronómica five years ago to promote the work of the country's new wave of chefs. “I think we helped make people proud of Panamanian cuisine," she says, taking a bite of bacon that came from a butcher down the street. “Nobody studied cooking before. Now everyone wants to."
Elena Hernández, founder, Panamá Gastronómica
I leave with a list of Hernández's favorite eateries but decide to burn off a few calories before cramming myself with more. A short drive across town is Cerro Ancón, the famous wooded hill that rises 650 feet above the city and is topped with a giant Panamanian flag. As I trudge upward, damply greeting fellow hikers, the noise of the city recedes. Aguotis—small creatures that resemble miniature tapirs—bound across my path. Hawks wheel above. The walk takes about 20 minutes, and the views from the summit are astounding: the great canal on one side, the emphatic sprawl of the city on the other.
Later, having stopped by the Waldorf for, yes, a shower, I take a car northeast to the San Francisco district. Dinner is at Maito, run by trailblazing chef Mario Castrellón. In a room that resembles a Japanese teahouse filtered through a Latin American lens, a procession of wildly imaginative food commences: tuna tartare and spicy guacamole served on a crispy plantain chip; baby squid with achiote and pork rinds; lamb bacon tacos with tzatziki; mackerel tempura with sweet-and-sour sauce. Chef Mario comes out to say hello. He's funny, shaggy, and animated. I ask him what inspired him to devise this menu. “Panama," he replies. “It's what I think of when I think of Panama."“In Panama, we're not famous for our traditional food. A lot of cultures have merged here: American, French, Jewish, Chinese, Arab, Spanish. We have always been the result of many cultures blending. Our food is the same." —Elena Hernández
It's late, but I have the driver stop at the Ocean Sun Casino, where I take the elevator up to Panaviera, with its thrumming outdoor rooftop bar on the 66th floor. I grab a stool by the railing, order a local 507 beer, and get down to the business of pondering the town. The way the city lights extend before yielding to the darkness of the interior. The way the still tankers twinkle in the black water, waiting for the opening of the canal. The way … oh, I just remembered: I have to get up at 6 a.m. tomorrow.
I call it a night.
In which Joe swings through a rainforest canopy and explores the streets of revitalized Casco Viejo
“How do you know about this? Panamanians don't even know about this!" I'm visiting Yarabi Vega, an employee at the Parque Natural Metropolitano, which is a jungle. Not the way New York's Central Park was a jungle in the 1970s, but an actual jungle, a former U.S. military base that returned to Panamanian control, was inaugurated as a park in 1988, and has since reverted to a lush state of nature.
The well-kept secret Vega is referring to is the canopy crane. If you work it out with the park in advance, you can go 150 feet up in a machine that ecologists use to study the rainforest canopy. Vega leads me down a dirt path, amid the urgent cries of hidden titi monkeys, past abandoned military installations, until we arrive at the crane and meet the operator, Edwin. I mention that I want to see a sloth. Edwin nods. It's a reasonable request. Then he says, “I have to go to my office!" and climbs a ladder to a cabin at the top of the crane. We on the ground strap on our harnesses, step into a metal cage, and lurch upward toward the canopy.
The canopy crane at the Parque
Soon we're dangling over the rainforest, taking in the view—the jungle, the city in its morning haze, the sea beyond. Suddenly, disconcertingly, we swing left, drop back down into the trees, and come to a halt. Two feet in front of us: a sleeping three-toed sloth.
“Can you wake him up?" I ask Vega.
“Maybe if you make the sound of an eagle."
Screaming at the thing seems mean, so I tap the cage and whistle. The sloth very slowly turns to face us. He blinks. He stares. Then he nods off again. It's thrilling.
I notice Vega is wearing a small carved sloth on her necklace.
“Are you a sloth fan?" I ask.
“Yes," she says. “I used to race them."
“You raced them?"
“In my apartment."
“You raced sloths in your apartment?"
“Yes," she says, as if it's the most normal thing in the world. She then explains that the park is also a rehab facility. They had found two baby sloths, and there was nowhere to put them, so Vega took them home to care for them.
“Oh! You raised them."
We return to earth, and after parting with Vega, I head for Casco Viejo—the old town—to check into the American Trade Hotel. In the bad old days, this building was occupied by gangs, who nicknamed it “Castle Grayskull," à la He-Man. Today it's an impeccably tasteful colonial-style boutique, launched by the people behind the Ace Hotel chain. My room is a sunny top-floor junior suite with an excellent shower that has its own eye-level window, allowing me to look over the rooftops of Casco as I scrub. I notice a small towel with “makeup" embroidered on it and sequester it for brow-mopping duty.
One of Parque Natural Metropolitano's slothful residents
Elena Hernández told me to check out Café Unido, a small local chain co-owned by Mario Castrellón that seeks to reintroduce Panamanians to the glory of their home-grown coffee. Luckily, there's one at the hotel. I get a chocolate croissant and a cup of Geisha coffee. Geisha is one of the most sought-after beans on the planet, and it grows in Panama. Costing $7 a cup, it's brewed one cup at a time using the pour-over method, and it is remarkable—deep and smooth, with a lemony hint that yields to smokiness. It's worthy of its reputation.
I take mine black and to-go and head out into the narrow streets of Casco Viejo. A UNESCO World Heritage Site, the area has had its ups and downs. Right now, it's on the up. Scores of old buildings are being renovated; restaurants and bars are appearing. I stroll through Plaza de la Catedral, with its 18th-century Spanish colonial Catedral Metropolitana, past the vendors selling hats and crafts. I'm heading for the Ramparts, the defenses that once protected the colonial city from seaborne invasion. The walkway along the top of the walls has been converted into a lovely shaded space under a canopy of flowers. I plop down on a bench and watch the ships.
Continuing my stroll, I stop at Papilo y Yo, a little shop owned by Zaira Lombardo. She and her staff specialize in creating stylish designs using traditional Panamanian techniques and materials: hats and bags, jewelry, housewares. For now, her buyers are mostly foreign. “It's difficult to sell to Panamanians," she says. “They're like people in Miami. They like brands. But little by little they're learning to appreciate things from here." I tell her I keep hearing that, and she nods. “There is a wave of people like me."
I'm off to meet another cultural pioneer: Pituka Ortega Heilbron, director of the four-year-old Panama International Film Festival. She's suggested we have lunch at Boulevard Balboa, a 1950s-era diner on the waterfront. It's full of people from all walks of life: politicians, businesspeople, musicians. “Look around, and you'll see the heart," she says. “This is Panama right here." Her father was a politician and later a newspaper columnist, and he used to come here to take in the gossip. “They sat all morning drinking coffee and just talking." According to Ortega Heilbron, the malted shakes here are the best in Panama, so I order a coffee malt, plus a tortilla sandwich with pepperoni and mozzarella. “Good choice," she says. “Really Panamanian. That will last you till tonight."
Pituka Ortega Heilbron, director, Panama International Film Festival
When she started in film, Panama didn't have much interest in the form, but now the scene is starting to bloom. That has a lot to do with the festival, which has grown into an internationally renowned event. “What was fascinating in the first year is that people saw these films in Spanish, and they couldn't believe the quality," she says. “They discovered something about themselves."
I spend the rest of the afternoon wandering around Casco Viejo, listening, looking, using the makeup towel. I stop to get a juice at one of the shaded tables on Plaza Bolívar. A little later, in need of more substantial refreshment, I duck into the American Trade's cool, bright lobby bar for a Canal Jumper—white rum, Bushmills, falernum, lime, and orange, served with a lit cinnamon stick, glowing red like a cigar. I enjoy it in a wicker rocking chair by the window, watching the light fade over the streetscape outside.“One of the things that make me love Panama is that our national shield says 'Pro Mundi Beneficio,' which means, 'For the good of the world.' We don't always realize it, but that's what we are. I want the Panama International Film Festival to be a platform for this." —Pituka Ortega Heilbron
Dinner is across town at Intimo, a cozy new restaurant (if you can find it; there's no sign) that feels more Northern California than Panama, with a rustic-chic vibe, open kitchen, hirsute staff, and a formidable tasting menu that draws upon local ingredients, including some grown in the backyard. Chef Carlos Alba comes over to chat. He started out studying to be an industrial engineer, but, inspired by Mario Castrellón, switched to cooking. The decision horrified his parents, but it paid off. “Mario was one of the reasons it became OK to be a chef," he says. They worked together for several years, and then Carlos opened Intimo.
I have a coconut water martini to start things off. Then comes the deluge: food, cocktails, wine, beer, cider. Among the imaginative dishes I try are the tamarind-glazed beans, which taste like ribs; dumplings stuffed with root vegetables; rabbit over a sweet corn puree with crunchy corn; mushrooms with creamy sweet potato, fennel confit, and fried kale; shredded lamb neck with carrots and tiny white flowers; and, finally, a dessert of pineapple yogurt “buried under chocolate dirt," served in a teacup.
For a nightcap, I head to Tántalo, a boutique hotel and restaurant that's popular with the trendy Casco set. The rooftop bar here looks out over the neighborhood jumble. Bare bulbs are strung overhead. People are dancing. The air is cool. The music is classic hip-hop. Someone's getting a tattoo in a chair in the corner. Everyone's friendly, having a great time. And then it hits me: Oh God, I have to get up at 6 a.m. again tomorrow.
But then something else hits me: Eh, maybe just one more.
In which Joe sails through the canal, gets a crash course in biodiversity, and hits a jazzy nightclub
On a boat operated by Canal & Bay Tours, with another Geisha coffee in hand (and potential solvency issues if this habit keeps up), I move toward the country's most famous feature, along the way counting the tankers awaiting entry to the canal. More than 50 are levitating in the morning haze. Most wait a day or a day and a half to get in. On average, ships pay $85,000 to pass, with the highest fee being nearly a half million, usually for cruise ships. The lowest fee was for an American named Richard Halliburton, who swam the canal in 1928. He paid 36 cents.
We pass under the Bridge of the Americas—completed in 1962 to rejoin the continents severed by the manmade waterway—and our guide tells us the canal's history. How the French attempted to build one, and it ended in mass death and disgrace. How the Americans pulled it off, not by digging a trench the whole way but by flooding the land and then installing locks at points too elevated to flood. That way they had to dig only 10 miles, instead of 50.
We arrive at the Miraflores Locks, trailing a tanker from Delaware. The 700-ton gates (made in Pittsburgh) shut behind us, and we wait as workers secure the boat to the 50-foot-thick concrete wall. I feel the surge of 26 million gallons of water in my stomach. The lock takes eight minutes to fill. Then we're through. The big ship ahead of us is tethered to two silver locomotives, called mules, which keep it centered as it moves through the narrow locks. Some of the largest vessels—called Panamax—pass with less than a foot on either side.
We navigate the renowned Culebra Cut, the stretch of the canal that was actually excavated. The scenery is somber, craggy, lovely. A light rain falls. We pass a small, fenced-in white building on the canal edge: It's where former Panamanian strongman Manuel Noriega is being held awaiting trial, after stints in American and French jails, on an array of charges.
A cargo ship passes through the Panama Canal;
Our final stop is Gamboa, about three quarters of the way up the canal, where a bus takes us back to the city, dropping us off near the Amador Causeway, a pretty strip of land that serves as a breakwater and a recreation area. I stroll the length of it and arrive at the Biomuseo, the biodiversity museum that opened in 2014. A tumble of primary colors designed by Frank Gehry (his first work in Latin America), it looks like something Picasso might have made if asked to build an exotic bird out of kids' building blocks. It also contains a series of interesting exhibits that walk you through the formation of the isthmus, between 40 million and 80 million years ago, and the subsequent migration of creatures from north to south and south to north—including charming “tiny camels" and less charming “terror birds."
Back in Casco Viejo, I stop at the Diablo Rosso gallery, which architect and co-owner Johann Wolfschoon tells me was founded partly to address a scarcity of venues for local artists. It has sold pieces to the Tate Modern in London and the Guggenheim in New York. “We show things we believe in," Wolfschoon says. “Things that could be good for culture."
After a shower and an invigorating pale ale at La Rana Dorada, a pioneer in the burgeoning local craft beer scene, it's time for dinner a few blocks away. If I can find the restaurant. Again, there's no sign. A man sitting on a traffic barrier points me to the right place, but when I get there all the doors are shut. Having watched me walk around the building, twice, the man comes over and bangs on the door. It opens. He smiles. This must happen constantly.
A banjo player on the ramparts of Casco Viejo
Now in its third year, Donde José is the work of celebrated chef José Carles, and like so many people I've met here, he wants to help carve out a new Panamanian identity. The place is tiny, like a well-appointed bunker—concrete, wood, metal, red velvet. I sit at the bar with a couple of recent transplants from Jamaica, and Carles comes out to walk us through his tasting menu. “We don't serve plates here," he says. “We tell stories." He's a physical man, and he expects that physicality to extend to his food. “You're going to use your hands a lot," he says. “Only fork and knife if it's necessary."
The meal is technically accomplished and deeply felt. Steamed dumplings stuffed with spicy corn tortilla; sea snails and cashews in a squash and clam broth; a salad with mango sorbet dressing and grated dried beef; a riff on chicken and rice in which fried chicken bits (breast, thigh, heart, and liver) are paired with rice cooked in chicken fat, making it obscenely rich. Finally, there's an apple pie, inspired by the ones served at McDonald's and made with the local root vegetable chayote (apples don't grow in Panama). “We're a young country," Carles says when I congratulate him on his culinary performance. “Who says we have to keep eating the same food forever?"
I ply the crowded streets and enter the hotel, tired and overfed, and hear music coming from Danilo's, the club opened here by legendary Panamanian jazz pianist Danilo Perez. I grab a table and order a beer. Leading a hard-driving quartet, singer Idania Dowman tears through jazz standards, soul classics, Latin fare. She struts, flirts, and tells blue jokes. After “Midnight Train to Georgia" and “Guantanamera," she does a colossal rendition of “My Way" that has the crowd howling along.
“I feel so diva!" she cries.
“You are!" someone shouts back.
“We are!" she replies, and it only gets louder, and happier, and later. And later still.
JoeKeohane, a New York–based writer and former editor of Hemispheres, is lobbying for sloth racing to become an Olympic sport.
Around the web
Following the devastating wildfires in Australia and powerful earthquakes that shook Puerto Rico last week, we're taking action to make a global impact through our international partnerships as well as nonprofit organizations Afya Foundation and ADRA (Adventist Development and Relief Agency).
Helping Puerto Rico recover from earthquakes
Last week, Puerto Rico was hit with a 5.2 magnitude earthquake, following a 6.4 magnitude earthquake it experienced just days before. The island has been experiencing hundreds of smaller quakes during the past few weeks.
These earthquakes destroyed crucial infrastructure and left 4,000 people sleeping outside or in shelters after losing their homes. We've donated $50,000 to our partner charity organization Airlink and through them, we've helped transport disaster relief experts and medical supplies for residents, as well as tents and blankets for those who have lost their homes. Funding will go towards organizations within Airlink's partner network, which includes Habitat for Humanity, Mercy Corps and Americares, to help with relief efforts and long-term recovery.
Australian wildfire relief efforts
Our efforts to help Australia have inspired others to make their own positive impact. In addition to teaming up with Ellen DeGeneres to donate $250,000 and launching a fundraising campaign with GlobalGiving to benefit those impacted by the devastating wildfires in the country known for its open spaces and wildlife, our cargo team is helping to send more than 600 pounds of medical supplies to treat injured animals in the region.
Helping us send these supplies is the Afya Foundation, a New York-based nonprofit that seeks to improve global health by collecting surplus medical supplies and delivering them to parts of the world where they are most needed. Through Airlink, the Afya Foundation will send more than $18,000 worth of materials that will be used to treat animals injured in the Australian fires.
These medical supplies will fly to MEL (Melbourne) and delivered to The Rescue Collective. This Australian organization is currently focused on treating the massive population of wildlife, such as koalas, kangaroos, and birds, that have had their habitats destroyed by the recent wildfires. The supplies being sent include wound dressings, gloves, catheters, syringes and other items that are unused but would otherwise be disposed of.
By working together, we can continue to make a global impact and help those affected by natural disasters to rebuild and restore their lives
Australia needs our help as wildfires continue to devastate the continent that's beloved by locals and travelers alike. In times like these, the world gets a little smaller and we all have a responsibility to do what we can.
On Monday, The Ellen DeGeneres Show announced a campaign to raise $5 million to aid in relief efforts. When we heard about Ellen's effort, we immediately reached out to see how we could help.
Today, we're committing $250,000 toward Ellen's campaign so we can offer support now and help with rebuilding. For more on The Ellen DeGeneres Show efforts and to donate yourself, you can visit www.gofundme.com/f/ellenaustraliafund
We're also matching donations made to the Australian Wildfire Relief Fund, created by GlobalGiving's Disaster Recovery Network. This fund will support immediate relief efforts for people impacted by the fires in the form of emergency supplies like food, water and medicine. Funds will also go toward long-term recovery assistance, helping residents recover and rebuild. United will match up to $50,000 USD in donations, and MileagePlus® members who donate $50 or more will receive up to 1,000 award miles from United. Donate to GlobalGiving.
Please note: Donations made toward GlobalGiving's fund are only eligible for the MileagePlus miles match.
In addition to helping with fundraising, we're staying in touch with our employees and customers in Australia. Together, we'll help keep Australia a beautiful place to live and visit in the years to come.
20. Spot Giant Pandas in China
In 2016, giant pandas were removed from the endangered species list, and China would like to keep it that way. This year, the country plans to consolidate the creatures' known habitats into one unified national park system spanning nearly 10,500 square miles across Sichuan, Gansu, and Shaanxi provinces—about the size, in total, of Massachusetts. —Nicholas DeRenzo
19. Follow in James Bond's Footsteps in Jamaica
When No Time to Die hits theaters on April 8, it marks a number of returns for the James Bond franchise. The 25th chapter in the Bond saga is the first to come out since 2015's Spectre; it's Daniel Craig's fifth go-round as 007, after rumors the actor was set to move on; and it's the first time the series has filmed in Jamaica since 1973's Live and Let Die. The Caribbean island has always had a special place in Bond lore: It was the location of one of creator Ian Fleming's homes, GoldenEye (which is now a resort), and the setting for the first 007 movie, 1962's Dr. No. Looking to live like a super-spy? You don't need a license to kill—just a ride to Port Antonio, where you can check out filming locations such as San San Beach and colonial West Street. Remember to keep your tux pressed and your Aston Martin on the left side of the road. —Justin Goldman
18. See the Future of Architecture in Venice
Every other year, Venice hosts the art world's best and brightest during its celebrated Biennale. But the party doesn't stop during off years, when the Architecture Biennale takes place. This year, curator Hashim Sarkis, the dean of MIT's School of Architecture and Planning, has tasked participants with finding design solutions for political divides and economic inequality; the result, on display from May to November, is the intriguing show How Will We Live Together? —Nicholas DeRenzo
17. Celebrate Beethoven's 250th Birthday in Bonn
Catch a Beethoven concerto in Bonn, Germany, to celebrate the hometown hero's big 2-5-0.
16. Eat Your Way Through Slovenia
When Ana Roš of Hiša Franko was named the World's Best Female Chef in 2017, food lovers began to wonder: Do we need to pay attention to Slovenia? The answer, it turns out, is definitely yes. This March, the tiny Balkan nation about two hours east of Venice gets its own Michelin Guide. —Nicholas DeRenzo
15. Star- (and Sun-) Gaze in Patagonia
Come December 13 and 14, there will be no better spot for sky-watchers than northern Patagonia, which welcomes both the peak of the Geminid meteor shower and a total solar eclipse within 24 hours. —Nicholas DeRenzo
14. Explore Miami's Game-Changing New Park
About 70,000 commuters use Miami's Metrorail each day, and city planners aim to turn the unused space beneath its tracks into an exciting new public space, a 10-mile linear park aptly named The Underline. Luckily, the Magic City is in good hands: The project is being helmed by James Corner Field Operations, the geniuses behind New York's High Line. “Both projects share similarities in their overarching goals," says principal designer Isabel Castilla, “to convert a leftover infrastructural space into a public space that connects neighborhoods, generates community, and encourages urban regeneration." When finished, Miami's park will be about seven times as long as its Big Apple counterpart. The first half-mile leg, set to open this June, is the Brickell Backyard, which includes an outdoor gym, a butterfly garden, a dog park, and gaming tables that call to mind the dominoes matches you'll find nearby in Little Havana. “We envision the Underline dramatically changing the way people in Miami engage with public space," Castilla says. —Nicholas DeRenzo
13. Kick Off the NFL in Las Vegas
Former Raiders owner Al Davis was famous for saying, “Just win, baby." His son, Mark Davis, the team's current owner, is more likely to be shouting “Vegas, baby!" Swingers-style, as his team becomes Sin City's first NFL franchise, the Las Vegas Raiders. After years of threats and lawsuits, the Raiders have finally left Oakland, and this summer they're landing just across the highway from the Mandalay Bay Resort & Casino in a 65,000-seat, $1.8 billion domed stadium that will also host the UNLV football team, the next two Pac-12 championship games, and the Las Vegas Bowl. Construction is slated to be finished July 31, just in time for the NFL preseason—and just in time to lure football fans from the sportsbooks to the grandstand. —Justin Goldman
12. Celebrate the Suffragettes in Washington D.C.
All eyes are on the ballot box this year, but the electorate would look quite different if not for the 19th Amendment, which was ratified 100 years ago this August. Many D.C. institutions, such as the National Archives Museum and the Library of Congress, are honoring the decades-long struggle for women's suffrage with exhibits. In particular, the National Museum of American History unveils Sarah J. Eddy's portrait of Susan B. Anthony this March, before putting on a 'zine-inspired show on girlhood and youth social movements this June. —Nicholas DeRenzo
11. Go for a Ride Through Mexico City
If you want to get somewhere quickly in Mexico City, try going by bicycle. During peak traffic, bikes average faster speeds than cars or public transportation—which might explain why ridership has gone up almost 50 percent since 2007. And riding on two wheels is getting safer and easier. In 2019, the city announced plans to invest $10 million (more than it had spent in the last six years combined) into the construction of about 50 miles of new paths and lanes. Now, you can cycle on a two-mile separated path along the Paseo de la Reforma, from Colonia Juárez and Roma to Chapultepec Park and Polanco. Future plans include a route along the National Canal between Coyoacán (where Frida Kahlo once lived) and Xochimilco (with its floating flower farms). “The goal is to finish the six-year [presidential] term with 600 kilometers of bike infrastructure," says Roberto Mendoza of the city's Secretariat of Mobility. Time to start pedaling. —Naomi Tomky
10. Consider the Mayflower's Legacy in Massachusetts and Abroad
Before they came to America in 1620, the religious separatists now known as the Pilgrims lived in England and the Netherlands. This year, the 400th anniversary of the Mayflower landing will be commemorated not only by those nations but also by a fourth: The Wampanoag, the confederation of tribes that live in New England and whose role in this world-changing event has been at best left out and at worst distorted.
“We're challenging the myths and stereotypes," says Aquinnah Wampanoag author Linda Coombs, a board member of Plymouth 400, Inc., which is planning cultural events such
as an Ancestors Walk to honor the native villages pushed aside by settlers, as well as
an indigenous history conference and powwow (plus an $11 million restoration of the replica Mayflower II).
Kerri Helme, a member of the Mashpee Wampanoag nation and cultural programs manager at Plimoth Plantation, says that “people want to hear the whole story." She notes that it's a commonly held belief that the Pilgrims were welcomed by the natives, when in fact their first encounter was violent, since the English had been stealing the Wampanoags' food.
“The Wampanoag are key players in all of this," says Charles Hackett, CEO of Mayflower 400 in the U.K. “It's a whole other aspect of this history." In England, a Mayflower trail will connect Pilgrim sites in towns such as Southampton and Plymouth, and in Leiden, the Dutch town where the Pilgrims took refuge before embarking for the New World, the ethnology museum will run an exhibit about the natives.
“The most important thing for us, as the Wampanoag people," says Paula Peters, a former Wampanoag council member, “is to be acknowledged as a vital tribe comprised of people that, in spite of everything that's happened, are still here." —Jon Marcus
9. Discover Lille's Design Scene
Previous World Design Capitals have included major cultural hubs such as Helsinki and Seoul, so it came as a shock when Lille, France's 10th-largest city, beat Sydney for this year's title. Judges cited Lille's use of design to improve its citizens' lives; get a taste for yourself at spots like La Piscine Musée d'Art et d'Industrie, a gallery in a former Art Deco swim center. —Nicholas DeRenzo
8. See Stellar Space in Rio de Janeiro, the World Capital of Architecture
Rio de Janeiro is renowned for the beauty of its beaches and mountains, but the Cidade Maravilhosa's man-made structures are as eye-catching as its natural features. For that reason, UNESCO recently designated Rio its first World Capital of Architecture, honoring a city that boasts such landmarks as the stained glass–domed Royal Portuguese Cabinet of Reading, the fairy-tale Ilha Fiscal palace, and the uber-modern Niterói Contemporary Art Museum.
"Rio is an old city by New World standards, having been founded in the mid–16th century," says architectural photographer Andrew Prokos, who took this shot. "So the city has many layers of architectural styles, from Colonial and Rococo to Art Nouveau, Modernist, Brutalist, and contemporary." In the case of this museum, which was designed by perhaps Brazil's greatest architect, Pritzker Prize winner Oscar Niemeyer, Prokos was intrigued by how the 24-year-old building interacts with its surroundings. "The upward slope of the museum complements the slope of the Pão de Açúcar across the bay," he says, "so the two are speaking to each other from across the water." – Tom Smyth
7. Join the Avengers at Disneyland
This summer, Disney California Adventure unveils its Marvel-themed Avengers Campus, with a new Spider-Man attraction, followed later by an Ant-Man restaurant and a ride through Wakanda. If the hype surrounding last year's debut of Disney+ is any indication, Comic-Con types are going to lose their fanboy (and -girl) minds. —Nicholas DeRenzo
6. Listen to Jazz in Cape Town
Cape Town's natural wonders draw visitors from all over the world, but there's a hidden gem beyond the mountains, beaches, and seas: music. Much as jazz was born from America's diverse peoples, Cape jazz combines the traditions and practices of the city's multiethnic population, creating genres such as goema (named after a type of hand drum) and marabi (a keyboard style that arose in the townships). Cape Town has hosted an International Jazz Festival for
20 years (the 21st edition is this March 27–28), and now UNESCO is giving the Mother City its musical due by naming it the Global Host City of International Jazz Day 2020. The theme of the event—which takes place on April 30, features an All Star Global Concert, and is the climax of Jazz Appreciation Month—is “Tracing the Roots and Routes of African Jazz." During the dark days of slavery and apartheid, music became an outlet through which repressed people could express their struggle for freedom. What better way to mark a quarter century of democracy here than with a celebration of that most free style of music? —Struan Douglas
5. Take a Walk Around England
Many hikers love walking around England—but how many can say that they've truly walked around England? When it's completed, the England Coast Path will be the longest managed seaside trail in the world, completely circumnavigating the coastline, from the fishing villages of Cornwall and the beaches of Nothumberland to the limestone arches of the Jurassic Coast and the sandy dunes of Norfolk. Much of the trail is already waymarked (the 630-mile South West Coast Path is particularly challenging and beautiful), with new legs set to open throughout the year. If you want to cross the whole thing off your bucket list, be warned that it's no walk in the park: At around 2,795 miles, the completed route is 605 miles longer than the Appalachian Trail and about the same as the distance between New York and Los Angeles. —Nicholas DeRenzo
4. Get Refreshed in the Israeli Desert
Six Senses resorts are known for restorative retreats in places like Fiji, Bali, and the Maldives. For its latest location, the wellness-minded brand is heading to a more unexpected locale: the Arava Valley, in the far south of Israel. Opening this spring, the Six Senses Shaharut will offer overnight camel camping, off-roading in the surrounding desert, and restaurants serving food grown in the resort's gardens or sourced from nearby kibbutzim. While the valley is said to be near King Solomon's copper mines, the Six Senses is sure to strike gold. —Nicholas DeRenzo
3. Say konnichiwa on July 24 at the opening ceremonies of the Summer Olympic Games in Tokyo, which plays host for the first time since 1964.
The Japanese capital plays host for the first time since 1964. This year, softball and baseball will return after being absent since 2008, and four new sports—karate, sport climbing, surfing, and skateboarding—will be added to the competition for the first time. Say konnichiwa at the opening ceremonies on July 24, which will be held at renowned architect Kengo Kuma's New National Stadium. – Nicholas DeRenzo
2. Score Tickets to Euro 2020
Still feeling World Cup withdrawal? Get your “football" fix at the UEFA European Championship. From June 12 to July 12, 24 qualifying national teams will play games in stadiums from Bilbao to Baku, culminating in the semi-finals and final at London's hallowed Wembley Stadium. Will World Cup champion France bring home another trophy? Will Cristiano Ronaldo's Portugal repeat its 2016 Euro win? Will the tortured English national team finally get its first title? Or will an upstart—like Greece in 2004—shock the world? —Justin Goldman
1. Soak Up Some Culture in Galway
Galway has long been called “the cultural heart of Ireland," so it's no surprise that this bohemian city on the country's wild west coast was named a 2020 European Capital of Culture (along with Rijeka, Croatia). The title puts a spotlight on the city (population 80,000) and County Galway, where more than 1,900 events will take place throughout the year. Things kick off in February with a seven-night opening ceremony featuring a fiery (literally) choreographed celebration starring a cast of 2,020 singing-and-drumming locals in Eyre Square. “This is a once-in-a-generation chance for Galway," says Paul Fahy, a county native and the artistic director of the Galway International Arts Festival (July 13–26). “It's a huge pressure. There's a heightened sense of expectation from audiences, not just from here but from all over the world." Art lovers will no doubt enjoy Kari Kola's illuminating work Savage Beauty, which will wash the Connemara mountains in green light to coincide with St. Patrick's Day, or the Druid Theatre Company's countywide tour of some of the best 20th-century one-act Irish plays. Visitors would also be wise to explore the rugged beauty of Connemara on a day trip with the charismatic Mairtin Óg Lally of Lally Tours, and to eat their way across town with Galway Food Tours. But beware, says Fahy: “Galway has a reputation as a place people came to 20 years ago for a weekend and never left." —Ellen Carpenter