Posts by Michelle

Ever wonder where the chic-est of the chic go on vaycay?

To the same places we do...well, kind of.

Revered designers Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana (you may pay your respects now) vacationed in spring-break Mecca Cancun this April. But not for the electric-blue body shots at Seňor Frogs, nor the live Girls Gone Wild footage.

They went for the food.

At Mi Casa Restaurant, they delved into Chef Cristian Morales' innovative menu, Cocina Confortable. Some of the ultra-elegant duo's favorites included the huitlacoche (translation: corn fungus), pork ravioli, tuna kivi and fresh clam scallops. For dessert, they feasted on the mixiote of mascarpone cheese with coffee and brown sugar salsa.

Perhaps their Cancun rendezvous will inspire next season's line?

If so, I hope they design their fabulous threads to disguise a full tummy.

Place: Turks and Caicos Islands

Where in the World: In the same Atlantic neighborhood as Dominican and the Bahamas. A little less than 3-hours direct from JFK.

Where to Stay: The Aman-freakin'-yara. (Amanyara) At an auction, my dad's girlfriend scored four nights at one of their most luxurious and largest villas. We had our own little oasis: four sleeping villas connected by walkways over a reflecting pool; one main villa with a dining and living room; our own private reflecting pool with a full-on patio; private beach access; and our own wait staff. (Shout outs Velma, Lota and the rest of the crew-you guys are awesome!) The entire resort is located in the remote and beautiful Northwest Point of the major island... and is also a natural aphrodisiac. Go with a partner.

What do you get when you mix international house DJs with the NYC bridge and tunnelers?

Why, the Winter Music Conference, in Miami, Fl, of course.

So, grab your Tiesto-spiked iPod, tanning baby oil, Dep spiking glue, AA metallic gold Maillot-V...and loads of water bottles (for all that cotton mouth you'll be dealing with). It's time for the Winter Music Conference in Miami.

Current weather for NYC: absolute crap. Sleet, hurricane-force winds, and I think I may have seen the Abominable Snowman trolling around the boroughs.

It's March, that tricky month when you're jumping to put your heavy-duty winter things into storage after months of cold, but can't because the National Weather Service just issued yet another blizzard to slam the Tri-state area.

So much for spring...

Luckily, not all parts of the globe are stuck in the same succession of hat-hair, dry skin and extra layers that we're in. In some places (dare we dream) it's summer. If you've momentarily forgotten that wonderful season, just envision being in a Corona commercial.

In honor of the lovely weather we've been having, Renaissance Hotels & Resorts is easing up their prices for stays in almost-equatorial Curacao and Aruba.

The deals go until April 8--when the average temperatures range from a low of 77 to a high of 88, and the precipitation is at its annual low (sigh).

Besides the holidays and an excuse to wear scarves, skiing is one of the only things that gets me through the three-plus months of sub-freezing temperatures, biting wind chills and a laughable amount of sunlight.

Downhill skiing is exhilarating. Strap into your bindings and you get to zoom down a snow-covered mountain with awesome views of the surrounding terrain.

However, what sucks is running into (literally) some douche bag who looks like he answered the casting call for MTV's Jersey Shore.

Let's face it, places near the city get packed during the weekends, turning your idyllic ski trip into one annoyance after another. (E.g.: getting cut off by some guy in jeans; paying $17.65 for chili, fries and water at the cafeteria; waiting 20-plus minutes in line for the chairlift, etc.)

So, to try and save you all some trouble, here is a list of some ski resorts that aren't exactly off the beaten track, but far enough away from the Interstate.

And because of all the snow we've been getting, you may want to start packing now.

Place: Bali

Where in the World?: It's a hike. The island is in the western part of Indonesia, and lies less than 10 degrees south of the equator. My suggestion: sleeping pills (tranquilizers, perhaps?) and booze...not taken together, of course.

Where to Stay: Now your vacation can be as fabulous as your jewelry. Glam giant Bulgari launched a luxury hotel line in the 1970s. One of these fabulous stays is perched atop the cliffs in Uluwatu, overlooking the Indian Ocean. Bonuses include small villas for privacy and chauffeured golf-cart transportation so you can enjoy a cocktail...or five.

Mark Your Calendars: Anytime is a good time to visit Bali, but if you have the choice, go anytime from June to September. This is when the climate is driest and the nights are cool. Even if you go during monsoon season (December to March), you'll still have nice weather, but passing afternoon showers are common.

Mangia!: Balinese cuisine is similar to that of Indonesia, except for its abundance of pork, which is a no-no for the large Muslim population of the mainland. The food, like the climate, around the equator is HOT! Be sure to go easy on the spices to spare your taste buds some heat. Babi guling is a dish for special occasions and is ordered days in advance: envision a large suckling pig on a bed of rice. Want something a little lighter, try lawar: salad! These are made with thinly chopped veggies, spices, coconut and some kind of meat.

As a daughter of New York City, I've been riding the MTA for more than a decade. Although New York never ceases to amaze anyone (and, please, let's let our guards down for a minute and admit that), I feel as if I've seen my fair share of spectacles.

There was the F-train masturbator, the twenty-something who roamed 34th Street sporting a fake penis, etc...

But despite my dulled sense of shock, nothing could've prepared me for riding the bus in Samoa.

Samoa is a small group of islands in the South Pacific. For those of you who keep up with the news, it was recently devastated by a tsunami that transformed the peaceful coasts into a mass of waterlogged debris. Samoa is about three hours northeast of New Zealand by plane (free drinks included) and, at the same time, it's worlds away.

People commune in open-air huts called fales that only have a ceiling to provide shelter from the unrelenting sun and sheets of rain that fall during dramatic equatorial thunderstorms.

Business attire comprises sarong-like lavalava, short-sleeve collared shirts and no-nonsense flip flops.

Mangy dogs, cats, lazy pigs and chickens roam the streets in harmony with humans.

Place: The Maldives

Where In The World: Right smack in the Indian Ocean, about 430 miles off the coast of Sri Lanka

Culture Shock: The majority of the population is Sunni Muslim, so alcohol, pork, dogs and acknowledging non-Muslim holidays are no-go's on the inhabited islands. The resort islands, however, do not follow suit to appease Western tourists.

Why You Need To Go: New York is crowded. Way, way, way too crowded. The Maldives are a sparsely populated archipelago in the middle of the pristine equatorial Indian Ocean. Need I say more?

Mark Your Calendars: It's always about 90 degrees Fahrenheit and humid, but, thanks to the Indian Ocean, there's always a breeze. Go anytime from December through April and you'll miss the rainy season.

Mangia!: Since resorts dominate Maldivian tourism, your choice of eateries will be severely limited. On the main island of Male, there are expensive, tourist-geared restaurants and small cafés called hotaa that sell cheap, local eats. Maldivian cuisine is similar to most Southeast Asian dishes in its spiciness and style: curries (riha) and rice as staples here. But because the island nation is miles away from verdant, green landscapes of Asia, vegetable dishes are a rarity. Seafood is paramount, especially tuna. A traditional meal comprises rice, a clear fish broth called garudhiya and a side dish of lime, chili and onions.

Munich happened on a whim.

It was September of 2007 and my first time abroad. I was studying Italian, as well as pizza, gelato and men, in Padova, Italy, for a semester during my junior year of college.

After spending the better part of my childhood spinning a globe and pretending to venture to wherever it would stop, I was thirsty for a real-life spontaneous adventure. During my high-school years, I had also acquired a taste for beer. These two factors combined led me, and three other hapless friends, to purchase our round-trip tickets to Munich on the Eurostar for the city's famed Oktoberfest.

It is unlike me to be completely spontaneous. Sure, I'd like to think I can flow with wherever the wind may take me, but, in reality, I'm a typical closeted Type A personality.

This trip was one of the rare chances my laid-back exterior got to run wild, keeping the planner in me under lock and key.

We knew Oktoberfest started in September and we had a three-day weekend coming up. We were also well aware all hostels, hotels and any kind of lodging had been booked since April.

We didn't care.

We'd arrive early, get in line for one of the tents, and take it from there. We'd carry our minimal possessions in our JanSport backpacks. We'd give ourselves 24 hours. By the time we were all-partied out, we would be making our way back to the train station. "Besides," one of my companions assured us, "a lot of people don't even go back to their hostels until early morning anyway."

Did I mention we unknowingly booked our tickets to arrive the day before Oktoberfest started?

Many of us had a favorite prop when playing imaginary games as young girls.

Some of us had a pair of our moms' old heels.

Some of us had our parents' expired credit cards. I had a globe. I used to give it a spin, close my eyes, put my finger down, and head out on an elaborate journey to wherever fate led me.

Sometimes I was on a treasure hunt in the South Pacific. Sometimes I was struggling through a blizzard in Siberia. Wherever I ended up, it was always an adventure.

About 15 years later, not much has changed.

I looked at college as one big "study" abroad opportunity, spending one semester in Italy and another in New Zealand. Now that I'm a semi-grown-up with a real job, getting away is a little more difficult.

Despite the constraints of time and money, my favorite procrastination tool is checking cheap flights and plotting elaborate trips.

I'm happiest when my backpack is full, my hiking boots are dirty and my international mobile is on.

Stay tuned for my travel diaries, great vacation spots & interesting tips to get you out of this city.