Three Perfect Days: São Paulo
Story by Nicholas Derenzo | Photography by Lianne Milton | Hemispheres, September 2017
Some cities are like puppies—friendly and eager to please. Others carry themselves more like cats: cool, with an air of cultured mystery. Rio de Janeiro might fall into the former category, but São Paulo is decidedly feline. With a population of 12 million, the Western Hemisphere's largest metropolis seems impenetrable at first glance, a sea of skyscrapers and commuters in helicopters. But down at street level you'll encounter the real Sampa (as locals call it), a town built by and for immigrants, with a surprising amount of warmth behind those designer duds and business suits. Brimming with internationally ranked restaurants and striking Modernist buildings, São Paulo is buzzing with energy and barreling into the future. What else would you expect from a city that rose from the coffee trade?
In which Nicholas awakes in an architectural landmark, strolls through a modernist park, and sips cachaça at a sumo bar
It's my first morning in São Paulo, and I've woken up inside the seed of a watermelon. Sort of. I'm at Hotel Unique, which is shaped like a giant slice of the fruit, clad in oxidized copper and peppered with porthole windows. The building is the work of architect Ruy Ohtake, whose mother was the great sculptor Tomie Ohtake. The wall of my suite is curved like a half-pipe. Maybe I should have packed a skateboard—and learned how to skate.
It's a short stroll from here to Parque Ibirapuera, opened in 1954 to mark the city's 400th anniversary. Brazil's most famous architect, Oscar Niemeyer, envisioned it as a Modernist take on Central Park, dotted with his stark but sinuous concrete museums and pavilions. Pathways zip with more in-line skaters than I've ever seen in one place, many of them slurping water out of drilled coconuts, as if they'd received a memo to look more Brazilian. I buy one too.
Fernanda Yamamoto, fashion designer
Niemeyer, who died in 2012 at the age of 104, is 20th-century Brazil. I duck into the lobby of his wedge-shaped Auditório Ibirapuera, which contains a red Tomie Ohtake sculpture that tornadoes around the room. Outside, another piece by Niemeyer bursts out the front door like a big red tongue blowing a raspberry at the neighboring Oca pavilion, also by Niemeyer, which is shaped like a partly buried Wiffle Ball, with organically curvilinear ramps and stairways cutting through its cavernous interiors. There's something vaguely alien about the landscape here, a feeling that is heightened by the sound of little kids flinging pebbles at a metal wall in the Museu de Arte Moderna de São Paulo sculpture garden—a pew pew pew straight out of Star Wars.
São Paulo is home to the biggest Japanese community outside Japan—about 665,000 people at last count. Their forebears streamed in at the start of the 20th century to fill coffee plantation jobs left empty after the abolition of slavery. To learn more about Japanese-Brazilian culture, I'm off to meet fashion designer Fernanda Yamamoto at the sushi bar Kinoshita in quiet Vila Nova Conceição.
Yamamoto runs her tiny namesake atelier in hip Vila Madalena, selling only items she and her staff make onsite. “The Brazilian stereotype is very sexy with lots of prints, but I don't think Brazilian identity has to be like that," she says. “São Paulo is a city created by immigrants, so I think our fashion should reflect that." She draws on folk elements—such as Renaissance lace from the northeastern state of Paraíba—and blends them with the minimalism of her favorite Japanese designers. Her upcoming collection is inspired by Yuba, a self-sustaining utopia near São Paulo founded by a Japanese socialist in 1935, where residents split time between farming and learning an artform, such as ballet or classical music.
“São Paulo is a world metropolis; it's not an easy city. You have to understand how it works—all these different ways of doing things—and then it's great." —Fernanda YamamotoOur lavish omakase tasting menu starts to arrive. “Japanese cuisine is very delicate, but that's not the taste of Brazilians," Yamamoto says, “so everything gets spicier, bolder, more flavorful." Courses here include octopus in a vibrant shiso pesto, salmon sashimi with truffles, and seared Wagyu with spicy Japanese mustard.
We cab across town to Japan House, a cultural center opened this spring. Renowned Japanese architect Kengo Kuma's airy pavilion combines hinoki (cypress) slats with hollow cobogó bricks, a hallmark of Brazilian Modernism. Niemeyer—one of the designers of the United Nations headquarters in Manhattan—would have appreciated the cross-cultural inventiveness here. Appropriately, his image looks on from the side of a neighboring high-rise, in the form of a stories-tall portrait by São Paulo street artist Eduardo Kobra.
Oscar Niemeyer's Oca pavilion in Parque Ibirapuera
From here, we're off to Liberdade, the city's historic Japanese heart, its tight alleys lined withnoodle houses and parks with koi ponds. Yamamoto points out Casa Bueno, a traditional market where her grandparents pick up hard-to-find ingredients, and Livraria Sol, a Japanese bookshop opened in 1949. “Some things got stuck in time; some things didn't survive," she says as we stroll under the lantern-like street lamps. “There is a lot that is still authentic, but it may not be here in a few years."
I say goodbye to Yamamoto and duck into Bar Kintaro, an unfussy izakaya (Japanese pub) run by two sumo wrestlers, for an ice-cold Weber Haus cachaça. It's a spirit that often gets hidden behind other flavors in drinks like caipirinhas, but here I can taste the crisp sweetness of the sugarcane. I offer my credit card to pay, and the sumo clan matriarch behind the counter points silently, with a smirk, to a handwritten sign behind the bar that lists various house rules in Portuguese: “We don't take cards" … “We don't have sushi" … “We don't have wi-fi" … “Don't cry!" Cash it is.
Dinner is across town in the posh Jardim Paulistano district. I'm eating at Maní, where the kitchen is helmed by Helena Rizzo, a former model who was named the 2014 Veuve Clicquot World's Best Female Chef. As I sit, a waitress brings out a comically enormous sack of bread, which includes hubcap-size biscoitos de polvilho (tapioca-starch biscuits), and a glass of Cave Geisse sparkling wine from southern Brazil. I go for the tasting menu: ceviche made with caju, the fruit of the cashew nut tree; crayfish with cacao nibs; mullet wrapped in a taioba (elephant ear) leaf with jackfruit, yogurt, and shaved Brazil nuts; and charcoal-grilled banana with manioc flour and edamame in a fish and tomato stock. Rizzo comes out of the kitchen, and I ask her what she calls this type of cooking—Modern Brazilian? “Things that I like," she says with a smile. “No—things that I love."
In which Nicholas picks through the central market, hunts for the city's famed street art, and eats some of the world's best beef
In this progress-obsessed city, it's rewarding to find a few spots where you can still commune with the past. Though it only opened in 2003, the Hotel Fasano—which occupies a brick tower in the fashionable Jardins district—calls to mind a 1930s gentleman's club, complete with rich mahogany details and low-slung, warm brown leather chairs. A flame crackles in the lobby fireplace, and its scent permeates the property. That retro sophistication isn't entirely coincidental: The Fasano family of restaurateurs has dominated the city's hospitality scene for four generations, since patriarch Vittorio immigrated here from Milan in 1902 and opened his first brasserie.
For breakfast, I'm heading somewhere with a similarly long backstory. I take a taxi into the city's historic heart, Centro, to the 1933 Mercado Municipal de São Paulo, or Mercadão (“Big Market"), which is filled with stacks of bacalhau (dried cod) and heaps of tropical fruit. The vaulted hall is bookended by stained-glass windows depicting idyllic agricultural scenes; the artist also did the windows at the nearby neo-Gothic cathedral. The market's star attraction is a jaw-unhinging mortadella sandwich—as much a symbol of São Paulo as the cheesesteak is of Philadelphia—which I order with an açaí smoothie and a coxinha de frango, or drumstick-shaped chicken croquette.
Thiago, ritual street artist
From the moment I arrive, it's clear that São Paulo is one of the world's great street art capitals, with murals covering surfaces in districts rich and poor. To learn about the scene, I've arranged to meet street artist and gallerist Thiago Ritual, who offers walking tours through his company, Streets of São Paulo.
“There are three generations of art on this one corner, but a lot of people don't see it that way," he says, standing on the steps of Centro's Theatro Municipal. In addition to a mid-century mural by Italian-born painter Bramante Buffoni and a minimalist contemporary work by São Paulo artist Herbert Baglione, there's a building covered with words in a chicken-scratchy font. To be honest, I tell him, I probably would have ignored these seemingly dashed-off runes.
“These are pixos," Ritual says, referring to a Brazilian tagging style that emerged in the late '70s, “and our graffiti is born from them. Before there was graffiti, there were political pixos. People took this pointy typography from the covers of Dead Kennedys and other punk and heavy metal albums. Similar to the buildings here, the letters go high." Nowadays, teenagers risk their lives using ropes and pulleys to tag entire buildings.
As we walk, Ritual points out works by international artists and local legends like Os Gêmeos, twin brothers whose monumental cartoon figures can now be seen around the globe. But these works, and others like them, are under threat. As part of an urban beautification drive, Mayor João Doria—the former host of the Brazilian version of The Apprentice—is covering murals with gray paint. “People call São Paulo 'the gray city' or 'the concrete jungle,'" says Ritual, “but murals have always broken up the gray. Now they have actually started painting the city gray."
“I like how chaotic São Paulo is. It can be stressful, happy, slow, creative. When I'm abroad, I miss the disorganization." —ThiagoWe head north on the (impeccably clean) subway to the Carandiru stop, the site of an old jail that was shuttered after a 1992 riot and demolished a decade later. Today, the elevated train tracks here run above an open-air street art museum containing works from some of the city's biggest names. I'm drawn to a piece by the artist Cranio: Amazonian tribesmen with red face paint operating a spacecraft and talking on smartphones. “My brother went to the Amazon," says Ritual, “and said, 'Yes, they're painted, but they're also driving Land Rovers!'"
He asks me where I'm planning to eat while in town, and I rattle off a few fine-dining spots. Ritual frowns, then leads me back into Centro, to the 24-hour Estadão Bar e Lanches, which opened in 1968 and took its name from the newspaper that used to have its offices next door. He orders me a frothy pineapple-mint juice and a roast pork sandwich on crusty bread. “You see the richest people and the poorest people all eating together at this bar," he says. “It's democratic."
An obelisk in Parque Ibirapuera
From here, I head down thrumming Avenida Paulista, which was once lined with the grand mansions of coffee barons. These days, most have been razed, replaced by sleek Modernist high-rises. My destination is the Museu de Arte de São Paulo (MASP), Italian architect Lina Bo Bardi's 1968 masterwork—instantly recognizable for the crimson beams that prop it up like a boxy armadillo on squat legs. The museum recently reintroduced Bo Bardi's radical original curatorial concept: Instead of hanging on walls, paintings are placed on glass easels anchored by concrete blocks, which stand at attention in a meandering chronological path. Works by Brazilian artists include one of Antonio Henrique Amaral's subversive “banana" paintings, which depict the fruit bruised and entangled in ropes to symbolize life under a military dictatorship.
Next I walk through downtown, gawking up at Modernist landmarks like Niemeyer's undulating Edifício Copan. I stop at Galeria Metrópole, an open-air 1960 mall that has reemerged as something of a creative hub thanks to tenants like the club Mandíbula and the Tapera Taperá bookshop. The new kid on the block is the Metropol bar, where co-owner Pedro Mozart offers me a local Tito Bier Marx IPA. “It's a red beer," he deadpans. Bars like this one are part of an ongoing revitalization project. “People didn't used to come downtown, because they thought it was dangerous," he says. “But a lot is happening here. Downtown is the pulsing heart of the city."
If you know anything about Brazilian cuisine, you know that beef is king, served in criminally massive portions at churrascarias. Tonight, I'm skipping the classic spots in favor of Açougue Central, a steakhouse opened last year by Alex Atala, whose nearby D.O.M. has reached as high as No. 4 on the World's 50 Best Restaurants list.
Açougue Central's sete de paleta steak
In a way, this place is an anti-churrascaria, with Argentine chef Alejandro Peyrou downplaying the “noble" cuts in favor of humbler ones, such as brisket and sete de paleta, named for its 7-shaped bone. Each week, the restaurant orders a half-carcass, and Peyrou works his magic: frying croquettes in rendered fat, grinding meat into garlicky linguiça, and halving bones for marrow-slicked tartare.
“This is the best meat in the world," Peyrou says of his beef (which he gets from Beef Passion, the country's most sustainable cattle farm), “and I'm from Argentina." I have to agree, but surprisingly, some of the real standout dishes are vegetarian, including roasted pupunha (a type of heart of palm) and a mushroom carpaccio.
Happy and full, I make my way back toward my bed at the Hotel Fasano. Before heading upstairs, I stop in for a nightcap caipirinha at the hotel's cozy Baretto lounge, lulled closer to sleep by the bar band's lilting bossa nova.
In which Nicholas meets some monkeys by a hotel pool, hikes through the jungle, and digs into an epic tasting-menu dinner inspired by the city
Morning begins early, with an up-close look at one of the city's most famous features: rush-hour traffic. Unlike many of the city's wealthier residents, I don't have a helicopter to whisk me over the ruckus.
I'm dropping my bags off at the Oetker Collection's new Palácio Tangará, which opened this spring in the ritzy Morumbi district, tucked among the trees of Parque Burle Marx. Inside, the designers have turned the “gray city" idea on its head with a chic charcoal palette accentuated with moody black-and-white photographs. As it happens, the tufted sagui monkeys that hang out by the pool fit the color scheme. Before heading out, I visit the breakfast buffet for sweet guava paste and highly addictive pão de queijo, the country's beloved cheesy bread puffs—plus, of course, a cup of the famously strong Brazilian coffee.
Ivan Ralston, chef
If you drive beyond the reaches of São Paulo's urban sprawl in any direction, you'll eventually hit the Atlantic rainforest ecosystem. Accordingly, I've planned a hike with Tours by Locals guide Denis Gonçalves. He picks me up at the hotel and drives us about an hour north to Parque Estadual da Cantareira, the world's biggest metropolitan forest at 20,000 acres, home to jaguars and howler monkeys and toucans—all within the city limits.
As we get out of the car, I notice how surprisingly crisp it feels in the shade of the trees. I had expected a sauna. “It's always fresher out here," Gonçalves says. “It's the lungs of the city." We wander past bromeliads and tiny orchids, anaconda-thick vines clinging to trunks, and varieties of fern that have been around since the dinosaur days. “This is a little bit different from Avenida Paulista," he jokes, “but it's still São Paulo."
“I can't tell you another city that has this many cultures mixing. In New York, you go to a different neighborhood and it still feels like the same place. In São Paulo, you go to a different neighborhood and it's a different city."—Ivan RalstonFurther in, Gonçalves points out guavas and bananas, açai berries and fat avocados, coffee trees and white ginger root. This is the guy, I think, you'd want with you on a desert island. Easier to spot are the area's many waterfalls. “Brazilians love to shower in these," says Gonçalves. “They think they wash away bad energy. And I think it's true. You feel different." We skitter across some slippery rocks and dunk our faces in a cascade. I don't know about bad energy, but it certainly feels refreshing.
“Now," my guide says, “back to the concrete jungle."
Hungry from the hike, I ask Gonçalves to drop me off at the Mercado Municipal de Pinheiros food hall, in the revitalized Pinheiros neighborhood. I grab lunch at Café Mocotó, the downtown outpost of a no-frills restaurant on the outskirts of the city. The original spot earned a cult following for its dadinhos de tapioca—fried cubes of tapioca flour and cheese, served with sweet chili sauce—which I order alongside a completo platter brimming with rice, black-eyed peas, linguiça, air-dried beef, and cheese curds. It's simple but exceptionally tasty.
Gonçalves in the Parque Estadual da Cantareira
What sets this food hall apart is that D.O.M. chef Alex Atala has opened a market within a market, with kiosks dedicated to five
Brazilian biomes, including the Cerrado (tropical savanna) and Pampas (fertile grasslands). His team has personally stocked the Amazonian section, where I pick up jelly made from jambu, a leaf that leaves your mouth buzzing as if it's been electrically charged. At the Caatinga (a semiarid scrub forest in northeast Brazil) stand, I munch on licuri, tiny coconutlike palm kernels that crunch in your mouth like roasted hazelnuts.
Inspired by these obscure ingredients, I'm off to Vila Madalena, a hilly landscape of artisanal shops and vibrant street art, to meet one of the city's most inventive chefs, Ivan Ralston. A graduate of the Berklee College of Music in Boston, where he studied electric bass, the Vila Madalena native (who looks as though he could be a member of the Strokes) opened Tuju three years ago and quickly earned a Michelin star.
Ralston has agreed to show me around his neighborhood, which still has a village feel despite its trendy reputation. We pass a few of his suppliers: A Queijaria, the shop where he buys pungent Brazilian raw milk cheeses; Kimi Nii, a Japanese ceramics studio that provides Tuju with its colorful flatware; and Coffee Lab, which stocks beans from Brazilian micro-lot planters. Next, we stroll along Beco do Batman, a narrow alley with perhaps the city's highest concentration of street art—all of which started with a sketch of the Caped Crusader in the 1980s.
“When I was a kid, it was just houses here," Ralston says. “But São Paulo needed a Brooklyn. And now, like Brooklyn, it's getting expensive. It's a little bit my fault, because I brought in high gastronomy!"
With that, we head to his restaurant for a meal that's as bold and freewheeling as the surroundings. The 12-course tasting menu is a lesson in obscure Brazilian ingredients. Honey from the native, non-stinging Plebeia emerina bee tops a turnip salad. Vinegar made from jabuticaba fruit adds zip to a wild porcini mushroom soup. One course is built around Montau pork—from a variety of free-range pig with red meat—served with cowpea hummus and horseradish.
Over the course of the meal, the Van Dyke–sporting sommelier, Adiu Bastos, walks me through the drink list: the Rabo de Galo, a cocktail made with cachaça and artichoke-infused vermouth; sour beer brewed with cupuaçu fruit; a pinot noir grown in Brazil's deep south at Vinhedo Serena, one of the continent's first biodynamic wineries. The meal ends with a selection of addiction-themed truffles, featuring tobacco, cachaça, coca leaves, and poppy seeds.
After dinner, I stroll through Vila Madalena's streets, a jumble of new and old, classic and hypermodern—a perfect representation of the city at large. I think back to something Ralston said earlier, as we stood at a high point in the neighborhood overlooking the city's hodgepodge skyline: “It's kind of a mess, but I like the mess. I like the lack of style. It's free, like jazz. Somehow the architecture here reminds me of Miles Davis's late recordings. When you try to define them, it's hard, and São Paulo is like that. It doesn't have any particular style—just this philosophy of freedom."
Hemispheres executive editor Nicholas DeRenzo is actively spreading the gospel of Brazilian wine back home.
This article was written by Nicholas Derenzo from Rhapsody Magazine and was legally licensed through the NewsCred publisher network. Please direct all licensing questions to legal@newscred.com.
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Learn moreCuba: A city filled with culture and heart
My favorite travel experience was visiting the beautiful city of Havana, Cuba. My strong curiosity persisted when the U.S. and Cuban governments finally agreed to cooperate on U.S. citizens traveling to this previously forbidden place. Reviewing the documents, I learned we could go in under the "Humanitarian" category, as the borders had not been opened to come and go as any American pleased. A group of us gathered, including some of my Boston-based colleagues and my three sons. We purchased a ton of toys and goodies for the children of Cuba.
Upon arriving in this fortress of deteriorating concrete, old buildings and damaged structures, we found an amazing city full of culture and heart. The Cuban people were glowing with an unmatched happiness and welcomed us with open arms. They were friendly, hospitable and very excited to see us, the Americans. They are extremely proud of their city, which despite the broken sidewalks and crumbling walls, was insanely beautiful. The colorful buildings and the colorful working vintage Chevys are among the amazing things to see. They are so proud of their old cars. Out of necessity, they have learned to work on their own cars with very simple tools. If the car breaks down while driving, they simply get out, open the hood, twist and bang and get it running as they know how to do. No one honks at them if they are in the road. This is just their way. The insides of the cars are simple, yet they maintain them as their prized possessions. They all, however, have music! They love driving proudly through the streets in their shiny old cars with music pouring out the open windows. Riding in many of them, each "taxi" was a new experience of its own.
Despite the gorgeous architecture and the classic cars, it truly was heart-warming getting to mingle with the Cuban people and learning their way of life. They are a beautiful people with beautiful, happy hearts ready to greet every American.
When it came time to hand out toys and gifts, we carried our toy bag through the streets, and it was apparent to us the children did not live with much. The delight and smiles on their faces were unimaginable. Their gratitude was evident, and my only regret was that we did not have enough for every child we saw. I thought my heart would explode at their excitement and appreciation.
Havana, Cuba is a travel must. It is an unbelievable place with an unbelievable story.
I left Cuba with a new realization of what it is like to live in a closed nation. I found a vibrant society of happy people full of fun, music and culture. I came home with a love of Havana and its people forever in my heart.
It was a trip of a life time and an experience we will never forget.
7 family-friendly activities to celebrate fall
Go apple picking
Apple picking combines outdoor fun with delicious and healthy snacks that can be used in a variety of ways, making it the perfect fall activity for adults and children of all ages.. Though you'll find countless orchards around the country worth visiting this season, New England is widely considered a prime apple picking destination with over 120 varieties found in the region. It can be argued that the variety they are best known for is the McIntosh apple. This type of apple and many more can be found at Honey Pot Hill Orchards in the lovely town of Stow, Massachusetts, so be sure to stop in and take home a bushel that you pluck from the trees yourself. Picking times are from 9:30 a.m. until 5:00 p.m. daily, making it easy to schedule a trip.
Meanwhile in California, apple season runs until the end of November, giving you plenty of time to pick a few baskets of Red Delicious or Gala apples before winter. Riley's at Los Rios Rancho in the city of Yucaipa is one of the largest farms of its kind in Southern California and has been welcoming apple pickers to their 10,000-tree farm for more than 100 years. If you're considering a visit, you might want to plan to be there on November 23, since that's when they're hosting their famous Apple Butter Festival this year.
Visit a pumpkin patch
If there was a fall mascot, it would be a pumpkin, so to celebrate the true essence of the season, it's hard to beat a trip to a colorful pumpkin patch. A pumpkin patch is more than just a place to find the perfect candidate for this year's prize-winning jack-o'-lantern, it's a wonderful way to create cherished new memories with your children or friends. The Great Pumpkin Farm in Clarence, New York, is perfect for pumpkin picking, but also offers weekend activities throughout the fall, including scarecrow making lessons, cider brewing demonstrations, pumpkin pie eating contests, and live music and barbecues.
If you're traveling through the Midwest this season, hop aboard a vintage farm wagon at Polly's Pumpkin Patch in Chilton, Wisconsin, and make your way out into their scenic fields where you can pick as many pumpkins as you want for only $3 each. Other activities at Polly's include a livestock petting zoo, a 40-foot slide and a popular corn cannon that lets older kids launch corn cobs at targets for cash prizes.
Enjoy a harvest festival
An annual tradition in America that dates back to 1613, harvest festivals are outdoor celebrations that coincide with the growing and reaping seasons we all enjoy. Filled with food, fun, music and dance, you haven't truly experienced the wonder of the fall season until you've participated in a local harvest fest. The good news is that there are plenty to choose from around the country this year. Two of the most popular are the Autumn at the Arboretum festival in Dallas, Texas, which runs until October 31, and the incredible North Carolina Pecan Harvest Festival in Whiteville, North Carolina, which ends on November 3. Both of these festivals have been drawing huge crowds for years.
For a harvest fest that's slightly spookier, head to Wisconsin where you'll find the classic Jack O' Lantern Days celebration in the cozy town of Fish Creek, and the Halloween-themed Zombie Days festival on the coast of Chequamegon Bay. Ghoulish activities include an undead musical show, a zombie pub crawl and a traditional harvest festival pumpkin parade. The scary fun lasts from October 26 through October 27.
Hit the trails
Hiking is more than just great exercise; it's an excellent way to bring the whole family together during the fall. And since the leaves are changing colors, it's also a great way to snap some incredible nature photos. So lace up your hiking boots, grab your kids and your camera, and find a trail that's right for you. If you're looking for suggestions, Sterling Point Trail in Vermont and Rome Point Trail in Rhode Island are impossible to beat when it comes to picturesque fall hiking.
On the opposite side of the country, the trails at Dry Creek Falls in Portland, Oregon, were voted one of the most photogenic hiking spots on the west coast by BuzzFeed, and it's easy to see why once you've been there. Covering a distance of just over 4 miles, this beautiful trail is perfect for all skill levels, making it a solid choice for families with kids.
Roll in the hay
Hayrides and corn mazes are traditional fall activities that have never gone out of style, and for very good reason. There's just something wonderfully nostalgic about introducing a new generation of children to the simple pleasures of wandering through an overgrown corn maze, and with so many participating farms scattered across the country, there's a plethora of options to choose from. The Johnny Appleseed corn maze at Shady Brook Farm in Yardley, Pennsylvania, and the popular horse-drawn hayride at Papa's Pumpkin Patch in Bismarck, North Dakota, are two of the best.
In honor of Halloween, the massive haunted hayride at Fear Farm in Phoenix, Arizona, brings an assortment of ghosts, goblins and ghouls to life from early October until the first week in November. Filled with sinister special effects, creepy costumes and macabre makeup, this Hollywood-worthy hayride is recommended for adults and children over the age of 12. With five terrifying corn mazes to choose from, Fear Farm certainly lives up to its name!
Up, up and away
Hot air ballooning during the fall is a dazzling way to experience the season in all its natural splendor. After all, how else can you get a spectacular birds-eye view of the colorful trees as their leaves change from green to golden orange? Balloons Over Letchworth, located near New York's Letchworth State Park, offers astonishing views of the surrounding area, including majestic waterfalls and stunning forests. Best of all, they offer a variety of family tour packages, so you'll find just what you're looking for, regardless of the size of your group.
If you're visiting Southern California's wine region this fall, reserve a balloon ride with the fine folks at California Dreamin'. Their friendly FAA commercial licensed pilots will take you and your family on an unforgettable balloon voyage high above the vineyards of Temecula wine country.
Pitch a tent
Though typically associated with summer, in many ways the fall is truly the best time of year to go camping. Thanks to the cooler weather, there are few — if any — insects to bother you and your family. Plus, there are less people claiming all the best spots, so you should have no problem picking a prime location to pitch your tent. And when it comes to toasting marshmallow for s'mores over an open campfire, everyone agrees that they simply taste better when eaten on a brisk autumn night.
For the ultimate fall camping trip, book a spot at Earth First Farms in southwest Michigan and set up your tent in an actual organic apple orchard. The 49-acre farm provides campers with complimentary firewood and plenty of fresh produce to pick.
Getting there
Regardless of where you plan to celebrate the fall, book your flight at united.com or by using the convenient United app, and share your story on social media with the #UnitedJourney hashtag.
Weekend inspiration: Omaha
We spent most of our time in the newly revitalized, historic district of Blackstone and found numerous restaurant and entertainment gems around every corner.
When we arrived in the Blackstone district we sat down with one of the men in charge of the revitalized neighborhood, Matt Dwyer, and were really impressed with his absolute commitment to bringing the best of the best to the historic district while still keeping everything all local. What he and his partner have created is an idyllic, historic district with a wide variety of locally run, high quality restaurants, shops and entertainment.
Here's what we wound up doing during our weekend in Omaha.
Friday evening:
If you want a great pizza and beer joint head to Noli's for artisan pizzas without an expensive price tag. The owners of Noli's are committed to maintaining New York City standards for their pizza creations and actually hired a water expert to filter their water to the exact filtration standards you find in the Big Apple. Their claim, "it's all about the water" rings true – their pizzas are awesome and definitely compete with some of our old pizza joint haunts in New York.
After dinner, stroll down the block to Cone Flower. At first it sounds like an odd name until you try their ice cream. They have, hands down, the best ice cream I've ever tasted and have coined the phrase "farm to cone."
Pro tip: Splurge on the sugar cone. It tastes like a light short bread cookie and will cause tingles down your spine.
Saturday morning:
Head down to Bob's for a creative version of an American classic donut. Some of their flavors include fruity pebbles and vanilla confetti. Then grab a coffee at the hipster Archetype coffee and enjoy your morning newspaper.
Saturday afternoon:
Stop by Omaha's Old Market for some upscale shopping and art gallery visits. Omaha's Henry Doorly Zoo is also known as one of the best zoos in the country.
For lunch, head to the brewery Crescent Moon to try what Draft Magazine has deemed one of the best beer bars in the U.S. The Reuben sandwich was created in Omaha in the 1920s, and this restaurant uses the original recipe to create a true masterpiece.
Saturday evening:
Blackstone Social Club is the perfect place for a pre-dinner cocktail. For dinner, we highly recommend stopping by Mula for some awe-inspiring Mexican fare. We highly recommend the salsa flights, the queso and any taco.
Across the street, Blackstone boasts some fantastic karaoke at Renos Karaoke. You can rent your own themed room to keep any embarrassment to an absolute minimum. We recommend the island room, but have a few drinks on their back patio first.
Sunday morning:
Brunchers know that one of the best places to go in Blackstone is Early Bird. Try to be an early bird and go when they open because the restaurant fills up quickly. If you are in need of the "hair of the dog" after a late Saturday night, their Bloody Marys are incredible. If you're looking for a healthy way to finish the weekend, their avocado and egg toast is the perfect choice.
Sunday afternoon and evening:
In the afternoon, stop by our wing and balloon mural on the side of the gorgeous Bouquet flower shop on Farnam street. If you're looking for an adventure, go next door to Ponderosa Cyclery and Tour Shop and book a bike tour in the area.
You can also experience Omaha's wildlife at the Lee G. Simmons Conservation Park and Wildlife Safari, where you can drive through the park and see wild elk, bison, cranes and antelope as they walk up to your car.
For an afternoon snack, Corkscrew Wine and Cheese is the place to go. They have hundreds of bottles of wine and fancy appetizers to choose from. End the evening across the street at the Blackstone Meatball restaurant. All the ingredients are locally sourced and you can choose the type of meatball, the side and the sauce.
Now all that's left is to take a shot of the stunning sunsets you'll experience almost every night in Nebraska.
We unveil a new state-of-the-art flight training center in Denver
"This state-of-the-art flight training center symbolizes the investments we're making in our people and our company, both in Denver and throughout our network," said our CEO, Oscar Munoz, who headlined a ribbon-cutting ceremony on October 9 for the facility, the largest such flight training center in the world. "In addition to providing industry-leading training for our pilots, flight attendants and other vital work groups, this facility will become a thriving center where we foster the professional culture, commitment to safety and dedication to customer service that's at the heart of the United success story we are seeing take shape."
Our flight training presence in Denver goes all the way back to the early 1940s, while the current campus was opened in 1968 with four buildings, expanding to six over the subsequent years. Recently, we broke ground on a seventh building which, when completed, will bring the size of the campus to nearly 540,000 square feet, with space for eight more flight simulator bays. In the five decades since its opening, pilots have participated in more than half a million training events, totaling approximately two million hours of training time.
No translation necessary
That movie turned this bar into a mecca for film fans, and in a way it provided the reason for my maiden voyage to the Land of the Rising Sun, as well. Only I'm not here as a cinephile. I've crossed 13 time zones to drink Japanese whiskey—a phenomenon I was awoken to by Bill Murray's Oscar-nominated performance. You know the one: “For relaxing times, make it Suntory time."
"My love for brown spirits and my lifelong fascination with Japan were inevitable bedfellows."
When I first saw Lost in Translation, 15 years ago, my reaction to that line was probably exactly what Coppola intended: Japanese whiskey? Bill's really selling out… As a recent college graduate whose budget couldn't handle much beyond the occasional bottle of Maker's Mark, I had no idea how wrong I was. In fact, Suntory, the maker of the now famed Yamazaki, Hakushu, and Hibiki whiskeys, was just launching itself into the global consciousness. In 2003, the Yamazaki 12-year won a gold medal at the International Spirits Challenge, and from 2010 on, Suntory whiskeys raked in golds, with the company winning Distiller of the Year four times. In 2014, Whisky Bible author Jim Murray called the 2013 Yamazaki Single Malt Sherry Cask the best whiskey in the world. Bottles from Suntory and its main competitor, Nikka, became nigh unavailable in the U.S. (The cheapest bottle of that 2013 Yamazaki Sherry Cask I can find online is $3,500.)
A vintage Nikka Whiskey logo
During the years that Japan's distillers were rising like the sun over the Pacific, I was busy fostering a determinedly American predilection for bourbon. While I systematically worked through the ever-shifting catalog at my excellent neighborhood bar—The Page in San Francisco—Pappy Van Winkle was going from a $15 pour I'd order when I was feeling mildly indulgent to a symbol of the cruelty of supply and demand. I visited Kentucky on several occasions, tasting my way down the Bourbon Trail, from Clermont (the home of Jim Beam, which Suntory bought in 2014) to Loretto (my beloved red wax–topped Maker's) to Lawrenceburg (Four Roses, William Faulkner's favorite, which another Japanese company, Kirin, bought in 2001) to Frankfort (Buffalo Trace, where Pappy is made, along with another of my regulars, Eagle Rare). And when I crossed the pond to Ireland, my two must-visits were James Joyce's house (as a thank-you for “The Dead") and the Jameson distillery (as a thank-you for the many, many shots I've taken after Giants playoff victories).
My love for brown spirits and my lifelong fascination with Japan—which I owe to my Kurosawa-worshipping father—were inevitable bedfellows. So, finally, this spring, I decided to make my way across hemispheres to learn exactly what makes Japanese whiskey so good—and to drink as much of it as possible.
A jazz band at the New York Bar in Tokyo
Naturally, I've started at the New York Bar. I'm seated at a long communal table, listening to a jazz singer do the Eagles' “Desperado" (it was Simon & Garfunkel's “Scarborough Fair" in Lost in Translation) as the manager, Moritz Kam, sets four single malts in front of me: a Yamazaki and a Hakushu from Suntory, a Yoichi and a Miyagikyo from Nikka. “What is notable about Japanese craftsmanship is the aim for perfection," he tells me, before offering a lament I'll hear often this week: “Even in Japan, you are not able to find some of the vintage whiskeys."
My first glass contains one of the most coveted whiskeys in the world: the Yamazaki 18. It's smooth, oaky, a little sweet, with a profile somewhat reminiscent of a Macallan. The Yoichi and Miyagikyo are peatier, smokier, while the Hakushu pushes those characteristics even further, leaving a lush layer of oil on my tongue. While each stands out from the others in subtle ways, I can't help but think they're siblings who started in the same home but took different paths to success.
Scotland is, of course, where all of the world's whiskeys can trace their roots. But the fathers of Japanese whiskey, Shinjiro Torii and Masataka Taketsuru, hewed closer to the original than anyone else (even spelling the word à la the Scots, without the “e"). The story begins in 1899, when Torii opened an imported-wine shop in Osaka. A few years later, he produced a popular sweet port wine and funneled the profits into building a distillery just outside Kyoto.
High-quality water feeds a pond at the Yamazaki Distillery
I learn all this from plaques inside that very distillery. I've taken the Shinkansen bullet train two and a half hours from Tokyo to the ancient imperial capital to visit Yamazaki, the birthplace of Japanese whiskey. At the entryway, I'm greeted by a tour guide, who explains that Torii built the distillery here in 1923 to take advantage of the local water and climate. “Yamazaki water has been famous for its pristine quality since ancient history," she says, “and the damp and misty and humid environment is very suitable for aging whiskey in casks."
We continue inside, past the mash tuns and fermentation tanks, where malt, much of it imported from Scotland, is turned into the spirit's base, wort. We follow the pipeline of fermented liquid to a long hall where two rows of copper pot stills of varying shapes and sizes (each of which imparts a different flavor) distill the wort down to new-made whiskey—what we in the States call moonshine. As we walk, my guide breaks down Suntory's history. “Shinjiro's dream was to make a whiskey that would suit the taste of the Japanese," she says, “because when he started the business, he imitated Scotch whiskey, and Japanese were like, Oh, this is too peaty—we don't like this."
Copper pot stills at the Yamazaki Distillery
That first whiskey, 1929's Suntory Shirofuda (“white label"), may not have been a world-beater, but in 1937 the company put out a second one, Kakubin, which sold well throughout Japan. In the 1960s, highball bars began popping up, specializing in what has become Japan's signature cocktail—a diluted, highly carbonated whiskey soda. Highballs continued to grow in popularity into the 1980s, and in 1984 Keizo Saji, Torii's son and successor as Suntory president, put out the first Yamazaki single malt. The high-end Hibiki blended whiskeys (which contain both malt and corn liquor) followed in 1989. In 1994 came the Hakushu single malts, which are made at a gorgeous distillery in the Japanese Alps and are now nearly as prized as Yamazakis.
Our next stop on the tour is the aging warehouse. Yamazaki uses several types of cask: American white oak, Spanish sherry casks, French wine casks, and mizunara, an oak that grows on the northern island of Hokkaido. Whiskeys are aged in the different casks for years—sometimes as much as three decades—and then the blenders combine them. A common misconception is that single-malt whiskey comes from single casks; actually, expressions from various casks are blended to make a more complex final product.
At the end of the tour, I meet Shinji Fukuyo, Suntory's chief blender and the creator of the gold medal–winning Hibiki Japanese Harmony. Fukuyo got into the business while in college because one of his professors noted that he “seemed to like whiskey"; he worked at Hakushu and then at Morrison Bowmore in Scotland before coming to Yamazaki. As we stand next to a floor-to-ceiling window, looking out on a hillside bamboo grove, the bespectacled 57-year-old takes me through the tasting process for his brainchild.
Suntory Chief blender Shinji Fukuyo
He lines up 10 slim bottles ranging in color from pale flax to deep amber. Two are grain whiskeys, two are Hakushu malts, six are Yamazaki malts. (Two of the latter are aged in sherry casks.) He offers notes as we sip and spit in the same fashion as Suntory's blenders. The sherry cask whiskeys taste “like dried fruits." The grain whiskeys are “similar to bourbon—calm, sweet, easy to drink." A heavily peated Yamazaki is medicinal, “like you were in a hospital." A mizunara-aged Yamazaki has a “very elegant, spicy top note, an important aftertaste for Japanese Harmony." Finally, a whiskey aged in French oak wine casks is “the best sweet—mild, like a strawberry." I'm jealous when I discover that Suntory's blenders taste 200 to 300 whiskeys a day in search of the ideal combination of these flavors. The proportions are always changing, because each vintage—indeed, each cask—can taste different from the last.
As the country's whiskey has grown more popular overseas, Fukuyo says Japanese people have increasingly come to treasure it. “We have drunk whiskey for a long time, but now we've got a lot of awards, and foreigners can come to Yamazaki, so Japanese people ourselves are starting to get proud of Japanese whiskey.
The Yamazaki Whiskey Museum
After profusely thanking Fukuyo, I head downstairs to the Yamazaki Whisky Museum, where hundreds of bottles from across the whiskey color spectrum are lined up on backlit shelves. There's also a tasting counter, where I order a Yamazaki 18, a Hibiki 21, and a special Yamazaki aged in a type of cask called a puncheon. As I bring them over to an empty barrel-top table, an elderly Japanese man in a rather Scottish getup—argyle sweater vest and newsboy hat—comes over. He speaks a bit of English, and he tells me his name is Genji and he used to work as a tour guide here. (He's retired but still carries his old business card.) “I come here every day," he tells me, to have a drink and chat with tourists. He points out his favorite whiskey on the menu, the puncheon cask, and when I motion toward that very dram in my flight, he smiles broadly. I have one of the bartenders snap a photo of us, and I promise Genji I'll come back to Yamazaki soon.
I've flown halfway around the world to drink Japanese whiskey, and now I'm going a little farther. After a night perusing the eight-page whiskey menu at Bar Cordon Noir—a smoky, jazzy place just around the corner from Kyoto's bar-lined Pontocho Alley—I find myself touching down in Sapporo, Hokkaido's largest city. Here, I meet Emiko Kaji, who's giving me a tour of the Yoichi Distillery, the original home of Japan's other major whiskey maker, Nikka.
The Yoichi Distillery
It's the last week of April, and while Kyoto was warm and humid, here the skies are gray, with daytime temperatures dipping into the 40s. (While cherry blossom season has come and gone in Kyoto and Tokyo, the sakura have yet to bloom in Sapporo.) That's not to say it isn't beautiful; the train ride from Sapporo to Yoichi—broken up by a phenomenal sushi lunch at Masazushi in the small city of Otaru—skirts the rocky coast of the Sea of Japan, with snow-blanketed mountains rising all around.
There's a reason Masataka Taketsuru chose to open his distillery here. The Nikka founder, who was born into a Hiroshima sake-brewing family, had moved to Scotland in 1918 to study chemistry (i.e., distilling). There, he met a Scottish woman, Rita Cowan, who he married and brought back to Japan—an international romance that was the basis for Massan, a hit TV series that aired on NHK, Japan's national broadcaster, in 2014 and 2015. Taketsuru began working at the Yamazaki Distillery in 1923, but he had a fundamental difference in philosophy from Shinjiro Torii. While the Suntory founder wanted to produce a whiskey for the Japanese palate, his counterpart was determined to make authentic Scotch whiskey.
So, in 1934, Taketsuru decamped for Hokkaido, where the cold climate, rocky seashore, oak forests, natural reserves of grain, and peat bogs all reminded him of his wife's homeland. As I walk two blocks through a biting rain from the Yoichi train station to the distillery, I feel as if I'm at a crossroads where Japan and Scotland meet. The facility's exterior looks like a stone-walled Scottish castle—but with Eastern-style pitched red roofs.
Charring a barrels in the cooperage at the Yoichi Distillery
At Yoichi, I get to see some of the more industrial aspects of production. This is the last distillery in the world that heats its stills with coal, and in the stillhouse I watch as a safety-suited employee shovels coal into the furnace below one of
the six two-story-tall copper pots. “It's like a kettle on a direct fire, so it's very difficult to control the flame," Kaji says. “Our craftsmen have to look after the flame every seven or eight minutes from morning through evening. It's a tough job, but we stick to the coal fire because it makes a distinct flavor."
From here, we walk across the campus to the cooperage. In a space the size of a racquetball court, I watch as a cooper, Hiroaki Nishizawa, hammers the steel rings off a freshly charred cask. He sprays water into it, motions me close, and waves his hands over the top of the barrel, wafting a heavenly vanilla, banana-ester smell into my face. I'm woozy. Then he rolls another barrel onto a steel rack in front of an industrial torch. When he flips the switch, the barrel begins to slowly rotate, and when the torch turns on, a firestorm ensues, bursting into and out of and around the barrel in a hypnotic hail of sparks. After about five minutes, he flips the switch off. I ask Nishizawa, who has been a cooper for eight years (he shoveled coal prior to that), how he knows when to stop.
"When the torch turns on, a firestorm ensues, bursting into and out of and around the barrel in a hypnotic hail of sparks."
“There's no clear written manual," he replies. “I learned from my senior. Now we use a machine, but before that everything was done manually, so it was very difficult to do it right."
While the demonstration is spellbinding, I'm beginning to wonder when I can get a drink. As if in anticipation of that question, Kaji waves me toward the tasting bar, which is lined with tartan-patterned place mats. I want something I won't be able to get in the States, and the bartender brings three limited-edition single malts, each named after its flavor profile: Sherry & Sweet, Woody & Vanillic, and Peaty & Salty. The first is dark amber in color, and as I'm about to say that it reminds me of Macallan (which is also aged in sherry casks), bagpipe music comes on the stereo. The second has a strong bourbon character, thanks to American oak casks. The third is very peaty and salty (truth in advertising!), heavily influenced by the sea, surely the closest to what Taketsuru was going for. I posit that it's like three different musicians playing the same piece of music, and Kaji nods
A worker shovels coal into a fire to heat a still at the Yoichi Distillery
For my last sample, I try a limited-edition Nikka Coffey Grain, a higher-proof variation on the distillery's best-seller in the U.S. This one has an even stronger bourbon characteristic than the Woody & Vanillic, as it's made from corn. It's interesting, I say to Kaji, that one of the best-selling products from the Japanese distillery most closely associated with traditional Scotch-style whiskey isn't really a Scotch-style whiskey. I wonder, is it an advantage for Japanese distillers that they don't have as long a history as the Scots and the Kentuckians? That there's more freedom, less of a demand that they adhere to tradition?
“Yes, we have a lot of freedom to be more flexible and to experiment," she replies. “We don't need to stick to tradition. [But] we firmly believe that innovation starts from tradition."
Visiting Japan's most hallowed distilleries is a great way to learn about what makes the liquor here so good, but there's only one way to really get at the heart of a place's drinking culture: visit its bars. So, upon my return to Tokyo, I head for Shot Bar Zoetrope. Hidden on the third floor of an unassuming building on a quiet side street in the otherwise neon-blasted neighborhood of Shinjuku, this might be the single best place in the world to drink Japanese whiskey.
Atsushi Horigami pours a dram at Tokyo's Zoetrope Shot Bar
The bar is tiny—about the size of a New York City studio apartment, with a half-dozen or so stools at the bar, plus a couple of tables. When I walk in early in the evening, an old black-and-white Hollywood film is playing silently on the far wall, and there are only two people inside. One of them is Atsushi Horigami, who opened Zoetrope 12 years ago. He looks a bit like a middle-aged Pat Morita in a Hawaiian shirt, and he's standing in front of an astonishing wall of whiskeys that contains difficult-to-find bottles from all over Japan. Why, I ask him, did he fashion this tiny portal to heaven on earth?
“I like whiskey," he says. “Basically, I am a geek. Before I opened this bar, I visited so many other whiskey bars, but always the bartenders didn't know about Japanese whiskey."
Horigami estimates about 70 percent of his customers are foreigners, and right on cue three more Americans walk in. As he's seating them, I start chatting with the other guy at the bar, who's named Steel. He's in his mid-20s, with long hair and a blackout arm tattoo, and it turns out he's a bartender at Minneapolis's acclaimed Esker Grove restaurant. Much like me, he's come to do a drinking tour of Japan. So, what does he think of the whiskey?
“Hopefully, it'll be the next big thing in America," he says. “It's some of the best whiskey I've ever had, especially for cocktails. Once people try it, they're not too deterred by how expensive it is—they usually want to stay on it. People come in and ask about it all the time. They're like, 'Ah, Japanese whiskey,' and I'm like, 'Man, I only have Toki'"—an export-only Suntory whiskey made largely for highballs.
It's not a problem that's going away anytime soon. While Japanese companies are working on newer products, like Toki, Hibiki Japanese Harmony, and Nikka Whisky From the Barrel (which Nikka began exporting to the U.S. this spring), the aging process required for vintage whiskeys makes it impossible to ramp up supply in a timely fashion. For that exact reason, earlier this year Suntory discontinued the very bottle Murray is shilling for in Lost in Translation: Hibiki 17.
But, as I sit at the bar at Zoetrope, talking with my new friends and sipping whiskeys from Fuji Gotemba and Mars Shinshu—two smaller distilleries whose products are also (surprise!) exceedingly difficult to find abroad—I try not to focus on the privations that my fellow Japanese whiskey lovers and I will face in the years to come. Instead, I take heart in the good news: that a shared love of whiskey has helped connect me and these two bartenders from opposite ends of the planet. We don't need a translator. As Murray tells Scarlett Johansson: “The whiskey works."
America's most haunted locations
New York City, New York
The Merchant's House Museum may be Manhattan's most haunted place. People inside the 1832 NoHo historic home have reported being touched by ghosts. Halloween-themed events and tours are scheduled throughout October. Over at Landmark Tavern, an Irish restaurant and saloon in Hell's Kitchen, three ghosts — a sailor, a retired soldier and a little girl, all traced to the 19th century — have been spotted by patrons.
Los Angeles, California
The Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel has attracted celebrities since its 1927 opening — some living, some not. Marilyn Monroe has been seen dancing in the ballroom, a ghost has appeared on a security video and guests have been locked out of rooms from the inside. In Long Beach, guests on The Queen Mary, a luxury cruise ship-turned-hotel with year-round paranormal tours, have experienced chilling encounters in the pool area and recorded unexplained banging on engine-room pipes.
Chicago, Illinois
One stop on Chicago haunted tours is Hull-House Museum, a National Historic Landmark and the inspiration for the horror movie “Rosemary's Baby." Jane Addams, the social activist who lived there, is among those who saw ghosts in its rooms. Another stop is the Congress Plaza Hotel, where the more than 1,000 guestrooms have been occupied by presidents and celebrities as well as ghosts — including the hotel's former owner, Al Capone — that move objects and slam doors.
Washington, D.C.
Abe Lincoln was spotted in the White House for decades after his assassination, not surprisingly in the Lincoln Bedroom and the Oval Office by a First Lady and a visiting queen, among others. Close by is Lafayette Square Park, a national historic landmark where the ghost of “Star Spangled Banner" writer Francis Scott Key's only son — murdered there by a jealous husband — haunts the grounds along with other ghosts.
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
Guards at Eastern State Penitentiary routinely tortured inmates, whose ghosts now get even by spooking caretakers and visitors with cries and whispers. Even Al Capone said a ghost haunted him while he was imprisoned there. Equally spooky is Fort Mifflin, a Revolutionary War fort and battlefield with year-round paranormal programs. Resident spirits include a faceless man and ghost dogs.
New Orleans, Louisiana
The French Quarter is packed with haunted bars, hotels and mansions including the notorious LaLaurie House, an 1832 home where the owner's wife, Delphine, allegedly murdered a young slave girl. Delphine and the victim have both been seen in the mansion. Also in the Quarter is Hotel Provincial, a former Civil War hospital where guests have heard the ghosts of Confederate soldiers conversing at night.
San Francisco, California
Some visitors to the old prison on Alcatraz Island have seen ghost prisoners walking the cellblocks and heard voices in the old inmate cafeteria even when it's empty. In the city's Haight-Ashbury district, birthplace of the hippie movement, many have heard running footsteps on the sidewalk outside Janis Joplin's old Ashbury Street house, where a man was shot in the head while fleeing a gunman in 1969.
Charleston, South Carolina
A headless torso and the ghost of a student who died leaping off the roof have haunted guests at the Battery Carriage House Inn. Another beautifully restored, but equally haunted, early-19th-century building in Old Charleston is the Dock Street Theatre. Its ghostly residents include a woman killed by lightning nearby and actor Junius Brutus Booth, the father of Abe Lincoln's assassin, a former audience member who's been seen watching rehearsals from the balcony.
Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Many visitors to Gettysburg Battlefield, where 8,900 Civil War soldiers died in a 24-hour period, say they've seen and spoken to “ghost soldiers." Some have even captured audio and video recordings of screams and cannons. Nearby at Farnsworth House Inn, a former Union general's home scarred by more than 100 bullet holes from the battle, nightly ghost walks are offered. To date, 14 apparitions have been seen.
If you go
Visit united.com or use the United app to plan your haunted-city getaway.
7 rejuvenating wellness destinations to rest & relax
Sedona, Arizona
Middle-of-the-desert outdoor oasis
Perfect for: A healthy getaway to unwind in nature's magnificence
Sedona's magnificent scenic red rock formations, canyons and vortexes have long attracted outdoor enthusiasts and casual hikers. The Native Americans believed this was a spiritual place of healing and renewal. It's since become one of the United States' top wellness destinations. From spiritual centers and alternative healing centers to traditional massage and spa treatments, Sedona is quite literally an oasis in the desert for wellness travelers. It's just a 90-minute drive from Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport (PHX).
Amelia Island, Florida
Family-friendly island getaway
Perfect for: A relaxing family trip with activities for all ages
Dad wants to golf. Mom wants a spa day. The kids want to play in the surf. Cater to everyone and head to Amelia Island, a quick 30-minute drive from Jacksonville International Airport (JAX). Experience spectacular sunrises, abundant native wildlife and 13 miles of beautiful, uncrowded beaches. Visit during the annual wellness festival in November, stay at one of Amelia Island's health-focused resorts, or simply enjoy Amelia Island's beaches and family-friendly activities, which include a pinball museum, aquatic center and pirate-themed park.
Taghazout, Morocco
Surf-and-yoga retreats galore
Perfect for: An energizing trip packed with surfing, yoga and beach time
Kick off your day with sun salutations on the beach, then hit the surf. Or just relax with a drink in hand in this leisurely, laid-back beach town where the sun shines nearly all year round. Taghazout is Morocco's premier surf destination, attracting seasoned surfers and total newbies alike. Taghazout has plentiful surf and yoga retreats, many which allow you to customize your class schedule depending on how energetic you're feeling. When you're surfed out, head to one of the local hammams to relax in the traditional Moroccan steam baths. To get there, fly into Agadir – Al Massira Airport (AGA), and take a 30-45 minute taxi or bus ride to Taghazout.
Calistoga, California
Hot springs getaway in the heart of wine country
Perfect for: Completely unwinding while soaking in scenic Napa Valley views
With more than two dozen spas and resorts, Calistoga has been called the spa capital of Northern California. The small town is walkable, charming and close to many wineries, though this isn't primarily a wine destination. Most everyone is here to relax in the geothermal waters and mud baths. After a few minutes of soaking in mineral-rich 100-degree thermal waters, you'll realize why. Add a massage or mud treatment, and you'll wish you'd booked a longer stay. Calistoga is a two hours' drive from San Francisco International (SFO) and Sacramento International Airports (SMF). It's a 30-minute drive from Charles M. Schulz Sonoma County Airport (STS).
KwaZulu-Natal, South Africa
Spiritual Buddhist retreat
Perfect for: A restorative and contemplative stay away from it all
Practice mindfulness and meditation in the supremely tranquil Buddhist Retreat Centre. Choose from guided group retreats and workshops, or do your own thing and design your own solo experience. The retreat center stands on 300 secluded acres of well-manicured gardens, forests and valleys, with many peaceful paths for contemplation. Walk through raked zen sand gardens, visit the Buddhist shrine and enjoy the natural surroundings. There's even a well-stocked library where you can read and listen to recorded talks from visiting teachers. Lodging is simple but comfortable. The all-vegetarian meals are freshly prepared, featuring organically grown produce. Though the retreat center feels rural and isolated, it's just a two-hour drive from Durban International Airport (DUR).
Traben-Trarbach, Germany
The upscale holistic healing resort
Perfect for: Detoxing and resetting your body to get back on track
Feeling tired, overworked, stressed or burned out? Germany's luxurious Ayurveda Parkschlösschen resort specializes in one of the world's oldest holistic approaches to help your body feel its best. Choose from personalized programs that target different conditions and ailments. With massage treatments, cleansing therapies, nutritious meals and more, your stay here is all about helping you feel healthier and more energetic. Ayurveda Parkschlösschen is in Traben-Trarbach, a two-hour drive from Frankfurt International Airport (FRA).
Goa, India
A yoga-centric wellness destination
Perfect for: Deepening your practice in the country where yoga was born
Goa is one India's friendliest destinations for Westerners to study yoga, and it caters to all experience levels and forms of the practice. Travel here to pursue your 300-hour teaching training, or stay at one of the wellness-themed resorts with optional beachside yoga classes. If you don't want to go all-in on yoga, the region also has many incredible beaches, waterfalls and wildlife sanctuaries. Goa International Airport (GOI), the region's major airport, is located in the city of Dabolim.
Getting there
United Airlines flies to these places or to airports within a two-hour drive. For details and to book your trip, visit united.com or use the United app. Don't forget to share your story on social media with the #MyUnitedJourney hashtag.
