What's better than a day at the beach? How about a day at the beach followed by fresh seafood and a cold beer in a vibrant neighborhood with views to boot? Bar do David sits on a busy corner in Rio's Chapéu Mangueira, a favela that overlooks the beaches of Leme and Copacabana. On a recent Sunday afternoon, the bar's two floors and outdoor area were packed with locals and tourists noshing on plates ranging from feijoada de mariscos, a white-bean and seafood take on the classic Brazilian bean stew, to the Estrela do David (Star of David), pineapple-mint pork rib tacos.

A heavy snowstorm left a thick layer of powder in Istanbul, resulting in cancelled classes for several days, and the arrival of countless snowmen. Snowball fights broke out left and right, neighborhood kids used whatever they could to slide down icy hills. Demeanors softened, moods improved. After a tragic beginning in 2017, the city received a much-needed blessing from the sky.

The neighborhood of Metaxourgio in central Athens gets its name from the historic Athanasios Douroutis silk factory (metaxi means “silk”), which closed down in 1875. The former factory, which now houses the Municipal Art Gallery, was designed in 1833 by the Danish architect Hans Christian Hansen and is among the city's most important surviving neoclassical structures. The building was originally intended to be a shopping center, but because the area became an industrial zone, it inevitably attracted mostly working-class residents who were employed in the nearby factories, smaller industries or workshops.

We spent our first few years in Georgia in a whirlwind of overindulgence, hostages to the unforgiving hospitality of friends and acquaintances. Try as they might to convince us that their wine and chacha were so “clean” we would not get hangovers, there were plenty of mornings when the insides of our skulls felt like 60-grain sandpaper and our tongues like welcome mats for packs of wet street mongrels. We would hobble out of bed and stumble to the fridge and, if lucky, find two of Georgia’s most recognized hangover remedies: Borjomi mineral water and matzoni, Georgian yogurt.

Varinas may no longer be prowling the streets of Lisbon, yet they remain iconic characters of the city. Until the 1980s, one would regularly hear these women loudly advertising the fresh fish they sold out of baskets they carried on their heads as they walked the hilly streets around the Lisbon. “In the 18th and 19th centuries, there was what we call the ‘aveirense invasion.’ They were coming mostly from the Aveiro region in northern Portugal, particularly from Ovar,” explains Appio Sottomayor, a journalist, author and a renowned expert in Lisbon history. (This is why they were known as ovarinas and eventually, once the “o” was dropped, varinas.) 

Fresh fish awaiting to be grilled is among the numerous encounters one has on our Two Markets, Two Continents walk, which explores vibrant market areas of the European and Asian sides of Istanbul.

When a menu is written only in Chinese characters, it presents a language barrier for foreigners. When a restaurant offers a Mandarin-only menu and requires diners to handwrite their order in characters, that molehill becomes an actual mountain. But Zhang Mama doesn’t care – diners have been queuing up for upwards of an hour outside the dingy hutong restaurant for a bite of its Sichuan cuisine since it opened in 2009. Why? It’s equal parts delicious and cheap. Demand got so high for this hole-in-the-wall shop that they opened two more shops, one just down the street from the Dongcheng district original and another in Chaoyang district. But it’s still not easy to get a seat during peak mealtimes.

Tacos Beto is not a pretty place. Stacks of soda bottles, enough for weeks to come, serve as a wall that shields customers from the wind blowing down Avenida Dr. José María Vertiz. The plastic tables and plastic stools that surround the bottles seem older than the invention of plastic. A long, dusty awning hanging above the sidewalk seating advertises a brand of soda that Tacos Beto no longer carries, maybe never carried. The only visible beauty encountered at the restaurant sits on the arched wall above the steel fryer, or comal bola – orange and blue paint spell out the words “Tacos Beto – los de cochinada” (“Tacos Beto – the garbage ones”).

Coal candy (yes, completely edible) is among treats we encountered over the holidays on our Made in Catalonia walk in the heart of Barcelona's Gràcia district.

Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Portugal, Morocco, Tunisia – one thing that unites this swathe of the Mediterranean is olive oil, whose use in the Fertile Crescent can be traced back to 6000 B.C.E. Olives arrived in the southern part of the Iberian Peninsula around 9th century B.C.E. with the Phoenicians. Ancient Rome saw huge quantities of olive oil from Hispania Baetica (currently Andalucía) being transported throughout the Roman Empire in millions of amphorae (made in Baetica). Spain leads production of olive oil to this day, with 45 percent of the global total. The majority (65 percent) of Spanish olive oil production is sold to Italy, where this oil is mixed with others (normally of the same quality, but not always) and sold under an Italian label.

On our way to dinner one Friday evening, we hopped in a cab headed for Tarlabaşı, a rather infamous neighborhood in the dead center of Istanbul in which many people still refuse to set foot. The area was a longtime hotbed of Greek and Armenian artisans and tradesmen, once the backbone of Ottoman-era Istanbul’s commercial life, who erected rows of gorgeous European-style apartment buildings beginning in the 19th century. Many stand proudly today, while dozens of others are fenced off and awaiting renovation as part of an invasive gentrification project that seeks to remodel the now decrepit, impoverished Tarlabaşı. By the end of 1970s, Tarlabaşı's Greeks and Armenians had packed up and left the neighborhood and the country, following difficult decades of anti-minority policies and attacks. In their place came a motley crew of other disenfranchised people: Kurds fleeing conflict in the southeast of the country, Roma living on the fringes of society, transgender sex workers, economic migrants and political refugees.

Through the gate on Kallidromiou and down the steps, the enchanting stone-paved courtyard at last reveals itself, a hidden oasis of fragrant lemon trees, geraniums, bougainvillea and jasmine in this densely built neighborhood. A charming mural of children in class is painted on one side of the yard, right next to the water fountains that thirsty students used to run to during their break. Inside, walls are decorated with old black-and-white photos from the school’s archives. A modern mezedopoleio housed in a historical neoclassical building, Ama Lachi stis Nefelis (If by Chance at Nefeli’s) holds the unusual distinction of being the former public primary school of Exarchia.

Pinxtos are tiny servings of tapas that come in countless varieties, many of which can be sampled on our Made in Catalonia walk in Barcelona's Gràcia neighborhood.

Matosinhos, a small city just north of Porto, is used to change. It has an industrial air to it, due to its 19th-century harbor, and its past prosperity was connected to the fish-canning sector, which peaked during World War II and declined from the beginning of the 70s. The numerous abandoned warehouses attracted nightlife during the 1990s, with clubs finding a fertile zone for noise. The completion of the long-delayed tidal pool, built by Portugal's starchitect, Alvaro Siza (who was born in the city), put it firmly on the map again after the project was delayed for decades. In January, the launch of the new, spiralling cruise ship terminal added to the contemporary design-y feel that has been developing on its otherwise rugged coastline.

In Rio, only specialty beer bars usually have a touch of sophistication, and generally, the beer there is much more expensive (mainly because of the high tariff on imported hops), the regulars are more demanding and the food is made by a “chef.” This in contrast to the humble botequim, the traditional family-run bars that serve simple snacks. But Hocus Pocus DNA strikes a balance between the two: it’s a brand-new bar with a botequim soul that slings craft beers and thoughtfully conceived appetizers to go with them. It’s also the name of an acclaimed artisanal brewery – one of the best local breweries in town, in fact, operating in Rio since 2014 – whose products are sold only in specialty stores and bars.