"No matter how far or long, I only bring one carry-on," says Rick Owens. With this first-time partnership between Owens and RIMOWA, we can expect a suitcase perfectly tailored to one's needs and refined with the designer's signature edge. When imagining the collaborated RIMOWA piece, the first thought was, of course, a dark, moody shade—a sleek gunmetal finish. Simple yet bold, it's a distinctive flair that perfectly embodies their style—and we're here for it.
First unveiled at the Rick Owens Autumn/Winter 2025 show in Paris, the iconic RIMOWA aluminium suitcase undergoes a dramatic transformation through Owens' lens. Via a painstaking manual pigment process, the sleek silver of the suitcase has been reborn into a brooding, aged bronze finish.
No two suitcases are truly alike. Designed to evolve over time, the patina is set to deepen, enhancing the suitcase's sensory character as it ages. Like a gnarled map face, each piece will develop a unique look and feel; their surfaces are roadmaps of their journeys.
"I wanted the outside finish to recall a bronze from Giacometti, Brâncuși, or Richard Serra, and I wanted the interior to feel like the touch of a black leather glove," Owens explains. And when Owens speaks, RIMOWA listens. For the first time in the brand's storied history, the interior has been completely reimagined, wrapped entirely in luxurious black leather hand-selected by Owens himself. From the lining to the Flex Dividers, every detail speaks to his singular vision—raw yet polished.
Each suitcase is finished with a fuzzy cowskin tag produced by Rick Owens in Italy that enhances the sleek simplicity with a touch of texture. And to ensure exclusivity, the RIMOWA x Rick Owens Original Cabin Bronze is a limited edition of 500 numbered pieces.
The RIMOWA x Rick Owens Original Cabin Bronze is available at select RIMOWA and Rick Owens boutiques.
You’ve made it to the oldest operating distillery in Speyside, Scotland’s most concentrated area of distilleries. It is the only one that has officially resided in three different whisky regions—without ever moving an inch. Thanks to how these regions were defined and redefined over the years, Strathisla first belonged to the Lowlands, then the Highlands, and now the protected locality of Speyside. You may or may not be a whisky aficionado, but you can surely leave a happy camper. Take it from someone who’s just been; this is how to behave as a guest at the home of Royal Salute.
It’s tempting with its postcard-perfect twin pagodas and classic stone façades. Against a backdrop of autumn colours and a narrow chimney steaming away, it’s a sepia-toned dream of an old school distillery. Tourists often stop by for a quick snap with the architectural landmark even if they don’t step in. Well, don’t. You’re here for liquid gold and knowledge, not social media validation.
You can possibly deduce that the “Isla” embedded in the distillery’s name takes after the river wending beside it, but you probably won’t know that “Strath” refers to valleys with gentle sloping hills (as opposed to a mountainous type of valley; the more familiar “Glen”).
The red, over half-century-old Porteus mill kicks off the tour by grinding barley with an agricultural racket. Words are redundant here, unless listed on a blackboard. Chalk scribbles under “Grist Analysis” simply point to the resulting texture: Course, middle, or fine.
The frothing vat of sweet wort may look and sound like a Tolkien potion, but you don’t want to fall in—it’s bad for the whisky. Besides, that yeasty tang will hit your nose just fine from a safe distance. It starts off smelling a bit like bread, then kombucha on steroids.
There is something heartening about seeing handwriting on a hazy cloud of wiped chalk in an age of digital screens and automation. The human touch signaling a choice to rely on the fallible is yet more fascinating when considering the sheer volume and necessity for accuracy. Here, they inscribe the temperatures of water added, over four phases to prevent damaging the barley or deactivating the enzymes.
Its pristine waters aren’t the ones used to transform the liquor. Instead, originating from the distillery-exclusive Broomhill Spring a mile away, for its natural granite-filtered purity. Framed by Fall foliage though, it’s another admittedly picturesque spot.
The path from 10 giant wooden washbacks to four gleaming copper stills is not a straightforward one. You wind in and out of the building; pass fluorescent lights and metal railings, overhead valves and crossing pipes. It helps to know that the contrast of traditional materials and advanced equipment is all to ensure steady fermentation amid seasonal fluctuations.
Everything plays an integral role. Why is the liquid called a wash at this stage? How do the famously short necks of the stills contribute to achieving fuller bodied flavours? What yield is collected to fill the casks for the final step of maturation? Why is it so damn hot in here?
Arguably the most exciting part to enter, the warehouse is in every way like a treasury. It’s dark, cool, and where reserves are kept beyond decades. Row upon row of barrels sit silently, maturing in stoic contemplation; identical to the naked eye save for certain markings in white military font.
The truly exclusive blends are behind padlock and key. Royal Salute was first created in 1953 to celebrate the Coronation of Queen Elizabeth II. The oldest Royal Salute Cask of the five set aside here anticipates the next Coronation, beginning its journey as early as 1962. Think about that—whisky that’s been waiting longer than most marriages last.
The slim tube is a clever little contraption used by workers of yore to smuggle a sip. No longer than a forearm, the sly tool may not look like it siphons much, but pours more than 10 drams in one sneaky go. Resist the urge to stockpile the sample; that’s what the gift shop is for.
Between the warm glow of the stills, the chatter of milling machinery, and the almost mystical calm of the warehouse, it’s easy to get swept up in the process. Pause, take a deep inhale, and appreciate what’s happening around you. You’re not just touring a distillery—you’re stepping into a centuries-old keeper of craft, patience, and passion.
I have travelled to Hong Kong extensively for business and 20 years later, I'm still consistently surprised by what the city had to offer. Stepping through the threshold of the Grand Hyatt Hong Kong, a piano rendition of "The Phantom of the Opera" greeted me.
You'd expect the audio to be delivered through some fancy high-end sound system but the song was was actually performed live. As the violin solo followed, I was firmly in the "pleasantly impressed" camp as I broke into a rousing applause after the performance.
The grand piano sits atop the balcony of the upper mezzanine floor, and yes, from ground to ceiling, the lobby of the Grand Hyatt Hong Kong measured closed to three storeys. Adding to the plenitude are grand marbled columns, period décor pieces, and indoor water features alongside curvilinear staircases that lead to the upper mezzanine. The immense lobby is reminiscent of a luxurious cruise liner. I feel dwarfed. This was an experience where ample spaces allow guests to comfortably take in the environment and acclimatise to the opulent details.
Located at the waterfront of Hong Kong Island, guests get a gander at the world-famous Victoria Harbour. When night falls, the city become starburst—lights dot and hum along the streets. Since opening in November 1989, the hotel finished a four-year-long renovation on all guest rooms and facilities in 2018. Masterminded by Melbourne-based boutique design studio, BAR Studio, the rooms are imbued with striking spaciousness. Outfitted with an open bathtub, a walk-in shower, a separate toilet, glass light-fixtures and a neutral sand-tone marbled vanity, one is still able to find the breadth of the space tenable; a respite in space-starved Hong Kong.
Even before the makeover, Grand Hyatt Hong Kong had chalked up several awards and accolades for its hospitality. While the room’s spaciousness is a refreshing commodity, there are the thoughtful designs like putting a multi-purpose solid timber table next to the windows just so you can take in the city view. The housekeeping team takes the cake.
If cleanliness is next to godliness, I'm in church. IMHO, the housekeeping is probably second to none. An example: on my second day, I accidentally dropped my contact lens case, which landed behind the sink. As I retrieved it, I spotted the sink pipes—polished, with nary a dust particle. Even in hard-to-reach places, the attention to neatness was evident.
The free time I had was either spent on eating and shopping. I needed the gym to keep my energy up and kill some calories. Grand Hyatt Hong Kong offers a 24-hour fitness studio and its wide assortment of gym equipment afforded me my usual workout routines with little to no need for variations.
Contributing to my excess calories was the breakfast buffet at Grand Café. During my stay, I had three opportunities at the sumptuous breakfast buffet and I still didn’t manage to try all the dishes. The offering was extensive—from Western to Chinese and Middle Eastern cuisines. It'd be easy to think that with such an extensive buffet offering, quality will dip but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
Take the dim sum menu. As a Hong Kong signature, the dim sum were fresh and finely prepared, instead of being microwaved and placed in steamer baskets afterwards. If the Grand Café is serving up such hearty quality food, there is no doubt the other 11 world-class restaurants and bars found at Grand Hyatt Hong Kong will not disappoint.
Grand Hyatt Hong Kong is the gold standard for luxury hospitality. If I had all the money in the world, I would want to replicate the thoughtful designs, environment, a capable in-house chef who can serve up international cuisines and a butler team who will anticipate all my OCD whims. But I'm a man of modest means so this brief stay at the hotel is a close second to my dream home.
My “view from the office” as I write this column is an expanse of iced- over ocean and snow-covered peaks, on the edge of the Arctic Circle. I’m aboard a polar explorer ship named Le Commandant Charcot, operated by French luxury cruise line Ponant, navigating the frosty waters off Greenland. Now, I absolutely hate the word ‘awesome’ when used to describe everyday things, like a tasty burger or a good movie. But the landscape here? Reader, it is legitimately, authentically, inarguably awesome.
The wildlife is impressive, too. On our first day out, I saw a couple of whales. Yesterday, I was awoken a little after 5am by the excited voice of our captain, Étienne Garcia, booming out of the speaker in my cabin, announcing that a polar bear had been spotted off the starboard bow of the vessel. I threw on my Heattech longjohns, Cleverley boots and Columbia fleece, grabbed my camera, and bolted for the deck. There she was, bounding across the ice. It was an incredible sight to begin the day with. (The bear, not my odd get-up.)
At the start of our journey, Captain Garcia—a spry Frenchman resembling a less sybaritic Serge Gainsbourg—had explained that seeing a polar bear from the deck of the ship was a wonderful thing, a rare treat few have the good fortune to experience. Encountering one of the beasts during a trek on the ice, meanwhile, is a far less attractive proposition.
Polar bears are the largest and deadliest bears on Earth. While their cousin, the American grizzly, will attack a person if it feels threatened or is worried for its cubs (you’ve seen The Revenant, right?), polar bears are strictly carnivorous—100 per cent meat diet, they don’t even want a side of fries—and view homo sapiens as a legitimate food source. They will not hesitate to make a meal of you. They’re fast, running up to 40 kilometres per hour, and will as happily stalk, kill and eat a human as a seal.
The local Inuit people return the favour, hunting polar bears for food and their water-resistant pelts. “The meat is good,” an Inuit guide told me. “It’s sweet.” A few hours after our ship’s bear encounter, I found myself seated atop one of the tasty yet fearsome animal’s skin on a dog sled, riding across the frozen sea to look at a glacier.
Her hull is rated Polar Class 2—bested only by hard-as-nails Russian atomic icebreakers—making Le Commandant Charcot one of the few vessels rugged enough to penetrate the ice in this beautiful but forbidding part of the world. In fact, she’s the only purpose-built passenger ship that can reach places like the east Greenland coast where I enjoyed my bearskin sled ride and glacial sightseeing. “We are the only one,” Captain Garcia said. “To have this kind of experience, there are no others.” Want to cruise to the North Pole while dining on Michelin- standard cuisine? This is the sloop for you, friend.
Belying her tough exterior, the ship is tastefully designed and extremely luxurious. One might expect as much, with Ponant being owned by France’s multi-billionaire Pinault family, proprietors of Kering, the parent company of Gucci, Saint Laurent, Brioni, Bottega Veneta and numerous other iconic labels.
The menu at the more formal of the ship’s two restaurants is the work of acclaimed chef Alain Ducasse, and the wine list boasts beaucoup bottles from Romanée-Conti, Petrus, Chateau Angelus and Cheval Blanc, among other vigneron big guns. The house pour Champagne is Henriot; the standard whisky, Talisker 10-year- old; my vodka martinis are made with Grey Goose.
The décor—all tasteful slates, taupe leather and matte Nordic wood panelling—is by architects Wilmotte & Associés and hospitality interiors specialists, Studio Jean-Philippe Nuel. The ship accommodates a maximum of 270 guests, with around 200 staff serving them, and on my journey the ratio is better than 1:1. In all, it’s the most genteel way of seeing the Arctic Circle.
Late last year I found myself in another circle altogether, one designed by Pritzker Prize-winning Japanese architect Tadao Ando. It was the 10th edition of an ongoing project called MPavilion. This initiative, funded by wildly successful Australian fashion entrepreneur Naomi Milgrom, sees leading architects from around the world invited to create a temporary pavilion that will be constructed in Queen Victoria Park in central Melbourne, serving as a meeting place and event space for a six-month period, before being moved elsewhere.
Most philanthropists direct their money to medicine, education, ecology, politics or the arts. The built environment tends to be overlooked. When I asked her why she so enthusiastically and generously supported this unique programme, costing her eponymous foundation millions each year, Milgrom said, “It’s a celebration of architecture. Not only of the built form, but of the idea that architecture can inform the way we live and that we can have that debate about how we can use architecture and design to do things better at the intersection of people, buildings and nature.”
Ando’s pavilion—his first structure in Australia—was so well received that last month, it was announced that it has been given a second lease of life. It will now remain in place for an additional six months (perhaps staying permanently, rumour has it). Before the zen-brutalist structure’s unveiling, Ando told me, “It evokes Japan’s traditional walled gardens. Inside there is a space to reflect, interact and appreciate that which is contained within, be it nature, art or people.”
The building may be cast in Ando’s signature grey concrete, but it is far from cold. This is the Osaka-based architect’s magic: his austere aesthetic serves to frame the surrounding greenery beautifully, while features like ponds or pools mirror the sky and trees. “One of the reasons I chose the architects that I have,” Milgrom said, “is because of their celebration of nature.”
“For MPavilion, the spatial sequence of circles and squares create spatial sequences of light and dark,” Ando explained. “These change throughout the day and the seasons as the sun moves through the sky. The surfaces that the light touches also change—walls reveal arresting patterns of shadows, while the water from the reflecting pool may cast dappled patterns on a previously plain surface.”
Ando told me he is proudest of his buildings when they manage to overcome a significant structural challenge, as the MPavilion did by successfully integrating a 17-metre central slit in one of its walls. The natural background seen through the gap is an ever-changing visual tableau: “The result is a moment in architecture that reflects our joy of living,” Ando said.
When it comes down to it, as grand as they may be, the magnificent boat I’m now aboard and Ando’s Melbournian building are merely lenses through which to view the beauty of nature. They are frames for the greatest work of art of all—the world around us. Which is circular, by the way, much as barmy Flat Earthers may wish to convince us otherwise.
The old man served us tea. He portioned the leaves, weighed them on a balance before steeping them in temperature-controlled hot water. The Nanyang tea, an oolong variety, was aromatic and smooth to the taste; to the lips, it was already cooled to a warmth.
This occurred at the reception room, where the room is outfitted with wood panels and peppered with Asian curios like ceramic vases, Chinese paintbrushes and even an old abacus. The air is subtly scented with a bespoke Scent by Six fragrance and mentally transports me to grand hotel lobbies like the ones in Bali or Bangkok.
This preparation of the welcome drink feels like a show but there's a purpose to the act—it pays homage to the Chinese settlers of yore, when rootless migrants found kinship with others from the Old Country as they bonded over tea.
The Clan Hotel is a peculiar sight. Or at least, where it’s situated at gives it that peculiarity. In the cluster of shophouses of the Telok Ayer district, the 30-storey building sticks out, obelisk-like, of Far East Square. As though as a pointed metaphor about the seemingly inevitable march of progress.
Nondescript paints the entrance of The Clan Hotel; with the staff helping with the luggage of travellers betraying the building's true nature. As the front door slides open, you're greeted with the calming smell that reminds you of tea and faint sandalwood. This scent is called "Kindred Spirit" and was specifically created by local perfumery, Scent by SIX. In fact, a lot of the hotel amenities—from the umbrellas to the tea sets to the soaps—were created with local entities and are available for purchase.
Given its proximity with its neighbouring neighbouring structures, The Clan Hotel focuses on building upwards: ceilings are high, sacred spaces are utilised to their utmost. The rooms are a blend of understated luxury and refined heritage. You'll find rich wood tones and modern furnishings; the angled constructions softened by the décor integrated by Chinese motifs.
There are three tiers of rooms—the Deluxe, Grand Premier and Premier Master. Bolstered by tech-forward amenities, my father, a man of simple needs, prefers the complimentary snacks and beer (pre-selected before arrival) as he sits by the bay window looking out into the skyline.
If you’re from out of town, take advantage of the tour activities at The Clan Hotel. Registration is required and the tour lasts for about an hour, where a guide brings you to some of the heritage sites within the area. Prefer to explore on your own, there is plenty to experience within reasonable walking distances. One can throw a rock and it would hit a local place of interest like Maxwell Food Market, the Nagore Dargah Museum or the Buddha Tooth Relic Temple.
If you’re not keen on hawker fare, The Clan Hotel has its own F&B establishment, Qin Restaurant and Bar. And if you wanna work off the meal, there’s the Sky Gym (because the gym is on the top level, duh) and the rooftop infinity pool.
It can be easy to relegate a stay at The Clan Hotel as just that: a stay but it's a cultural immersion. Heritage and family is a prevailing theme throughout The Clan Hotel. There, the past isn’t a foreign country, it’s a cocoon. It’s a familiar embrace where your many needs are met.
A sojourn at the hotel means that the Clan Keepers (the name given to the concierge staff) will tend- nay, anticipate your needs. We didn’t think that we needed an umbrella when the first drops of rain dot the pavement (a mere misting, was my recollection) but a Clan Keeper appears, ready with an umbrella.
Like any family member, concern is freely given; even when you didn’t ask for it but as the “misting” turns into a shower, graciousness sets in as your fingers grip the umbrella handle, slightly warmed by another’s touch.
The Clan Hotel is located at 10 Cross St, Singapore 048417
We’ve all heard the cliché: it’s about the journey, not the destination. But is it possible for the journey to matter more than the destination? Belmond’s latest venture, The Britannic Explorer, might just answer that question. Launching in July 2025, this is Britain’s first luxury sleeper train, and it’s a masterclass in the art of slow travel.
Departing from London, The Britannic Explorer offers three distinct journeys over the course of three nights—through Cornwall's rugged coastline, the Lake District's poetic vistas, and Wales' dramatic landscapes. For the insatiable wanderer, journeys can also be paired for an extended six-night adventure.
But let's talk about those cabins. London design studio Albion Nord has created 18 rooms that somehow manage to feel both thoroughly modern and tragically nostalgic. The three Grand Suites offer unparalleled opulence with king-sized beds and private en-suite bathrooms, but the 15 Suites aren’t slumming it either. Each room balances charm with comfort, with picture windows that frame the landscape of Britain like living works of art.
When Belmond enlisted British culinary icon, Simon Rogan, to helm the train’s dining program, expectations soared, and rightfully so. Rogan, whose restaurant empire boasts eight Michelin stars, infuses his menus with his signature farm-to-fork ethos and has created a menu that’s a love letter to Britain’s regional flavours.
“I hope every passenger not only enjoys the flavours but also feels a connection between the dishes and the journey,” Rogan says.
Once you’ve savoured Rogan’s food, head to the bar car, a botanically inspired space that channels the spirit of Victorian apothecaries. Its convivial atmosphere serves as the train's social nucleus. Here, mixologists craft botanically inspired cocktails alongside a carefully curated selection of artisan gins and craft beers. And because it’s launching in 2025, there's even an onboard wellness spa—because what's a luxury journey without a massage as you roll through the Cotswolds?
In a world obsessed with speed and efficiency, The Britannic Explorer is proof that there's still room for something that moves at a more considered pace—something that understands that sometimes the greatest luxury isn't reaching your destination quickly, but savouring every moment of getting there.
Remember that weekend road trip with your parents, popping haw flakes en route to grandma’s? Or how about blasting noughties hits with the top down all through college summer holidays? The journey was as big a deal as the destination back then, and not just because there was no avoiding it. These days, travellers are sleeping, reading, or even medicating to escape the mundane public transportation experience. Planes may be quicker, but they’re a lot less memorable.
In Japan circa 2016, I gained a renewed love of road trips when we drove to Mount Fuji via tiny villages with names I don’t remember. In a country famed for its Shinkansen bullet trains, I found that wheels led us to pastures unbeknown to the overseas visitor. There were no guides (English-speaking) to consult for information: we simply rocked up and connected with locals who shared their delicious broth potatoes with us.
I also had a splash road-tripping through France’s wine country. Every turn was a chance to discover an amazing vineyard, one that isn’t mass-producing Moët for chain hotels. In Bordeaux, I basked in sunshine and had the sips of my life at Chateau Quintus, an ancient vineyard perched up a hill overlooking a medieval Saint-Émilion town. It was wonderful serendipity, leading to the discovery of my new favourite wine. In Champagne though, I knew exactly where I was headed, to the house of Billercart-Salmon. I’d been a fan for years and was finally visiting the historic estate, family-run since the 1800s. In both cases, I took advantage of going off the beaten track to find boutique accommodations at reasonable prices. When you’re going around sampling grape juice, good overnight lodging is essential.
I took these road trips with a partner but I’ve recently been enjoying them as a group too. My friend Francesco is from Italy (famed for rolling hills, small towns and fine gastronomy), and so he knows to follow the wild for life’s bounties. In his Bentayga EWB, Bentley’s snazzy SUV which has a fully reclining airline rear seat, no less, we drove to Dorset this year. When you fly, you fear the worst: missing your flight, delays, uncomfortable seats, and bad plane food, but we had none of that to worry about with Ms Bentayga, as we called her. We waited for Francesco and his girlfriend, Amie, to pick us up at leisure, and any traffic delay was welcome in our eyes. Amie had a long playlist of ’90s hits to get us through, turning the SUV into a karaoke booth for half the four-hour journey. We stopped at a local pub for lunch, and a cafe for snacks and strong coffees, but it wasn’t always for edible reasons. In some cases, we stopped just because the view was nice, and we wanted to get out and have a wander. Road trips help you embrace curiosity, and best of all, aside from taking photos or connecting Ms Bentayga to our cheesy playlist, we barely took out our phones. We remained present in one another’s company. By contrast, it’s completely the norm to glue ourselves to a screen before take off, and throughout a flight, no matter how much you like your companion. Perhaps the communal nature of a journey forces us to retreat, whereas a car, especially if it’s a comfy one, provides a safe space to let loose.
On reaching our destination, an independent farm hotel called Outbuildings Dorset, there was a shift in the usual landing energy. Nobody was exhausted from the journey (not even driver Francesco). Rather, we were a mix of energised but ready for a cosy night in following an adventure. We sat by the fireplace, played cards, and feasted on homemade shepherd’s pie. There may have been some of that French wine hiding in the trunk that made it over to our cabin too. Our evening was quality, unscheduled time together. Equally, while we enjoyed Dorset—hiking to impressive sandstone cliffs and browsing farmers’ markets—there wasn’t a sense of time ticking. We even looked forward to the journey back home. The group made suggestions for the playlist and picked up some lotions from the property gift shop to pamper ourselves on Ms Bentayga’s passenger seats. There was an anticipation like it was the third portion of our trip. I’ve never recalled having that feeling for a flight home, except the times I flew business class. You could argue that this was a fancy car with the legroom of a limousine, but I’ve felt that way in a mini too. Excited about the potential for exploration, the camaraderie, and the music (though not for the confined space).
I still take flights for long-haul trips. After all, I can’t drive to Taiwan. I’m also a loyal Trainline customer and I use it every month. Trains are brilliant because they also come with views so I can easily put my phone down. I’m taking a train from London to Amsterdam next month, choosing it over flying purely because the ride itself is more enjoyable. Plus, the airport wait time is longer than the flight itself.
I believe road trips are serious contenders in the vacation sphere. They’re brilliant ways to adventure no matter the party size, be it a bachelor herd making its way to a huge Airbnb in Macau, or a couple driving to a Thai Anantara resort for a romantic weekend. I’d suggest getting to the airport, and if you can drive, taking the longer, more scenic route. There’s more chance of discovery, whereas a shuttle or small plane will just get you from A to B. From Singapore, there are many easy road trips you can take, including places like Malacca and Kuala Lumpur. If you’re heading to Singapore instead, you’d be happy to know it is ranked number one in Asia for road infrastructure. So let’s bring road-tripping back to the vacation mix. If anything, it’s a perfect excuse to upgrade those wheels.
Ah, Paris... The city of love, art and culture. The perfect place for a summer vacay. And at the heart of it, Cheval Blanc Paris has opened its terraces for visitors to take in the iconic sights of Paris. The hotel itself is a veritable museum in its own right. Located within proximity to the Louvre and the Marais, Cheval Blanc Paris embodies the Art Deco essence, showcasing the French art de vivre that is inspired by a bold, contemporary spirit all through its 26 rooms and 46 suites, along with splendid living areas, restaurants and wellness facilities.
The Cheval Blanc Paris terraces are open to the public. Perched on the seventh level, each terrace is a window to the magic of three culinary masters: Chef Arnaud Donckele; Chef William Béquin and Pastry Chef Maxime Frédéric. Under the purview of these talented chefs, each terrace promises an unforgettable gastronomic adventure against the stunning backdrop of Paris’ romantic cityscape.
Le Jardin de Cheval Blanc Paris is a verdant haven that is the picture of summer. Vibrant and adorned with red and white furniture and chic yellow accents, the terrace celebrates Parisian epicureanism. Delight in Chef William Béquin’s curated menu that features dishes like cherry tomato tart with pineapple tomato and basil sorbet. A strawberry ice cream sundae—crafted by Pastry Chef Frédéric—is a fitting topper to a meal. This idyllic retreat is wrapped in the heady aromatic scent of herbs and scarlet flowers.
Offering unobstructed views of the Seine, this contemporary brasserie invites you to embrace Parisian life through the palate. With flavours imagined by Chef William Béquin, featured dishes like green bean tart with stracciatella and smoked velvet with black olive. Treat yourself to lobster, red mullet, monkfish and sea bass in a saffron-infused bourride. End your culinary journey with a rhubarb vacherin, a modern twist on iconic French gastronomy.
With a name like Langosteria, you do come in with certain expectations. But the restaurant manages to surprise you with its convergence of Italian and French cultures on a plate. The restaurant opens on to a terrace that looks over the surrounding sun dappled rooftops, providing a painterly vantage. Reflecting Italian vibrancy and summery influences, the menu’s offerings include Sicilian gambero rosso, red tuna carpaccio with eggplant, and tagliatelle with royal (of course) langoustines. Desserts get the same sort of magic, again, created by Pastry Chef Frédéric, the Langosteria’s signature tiramisu, sans crustaceans, bien sûr.
Cheval Blanc’s restaurant terraces are now open. For more info, click here.
Among the more perplexing trendlets we’ve scrolled past this year is “rawdogging,” the act of denying oneself all forms of entertainment for the length of a long-haul flight. No books or games or movies or naps for our rawdoggers; instead, the guys—always guys, only guys—stare straight ahead at the flight map or the seat back of the person in front of them, spending the whole time lost either in thought or in search of a good one. As with all trendlets, there’s no way of knowing whether it’s real or just six goobers on TikTok with the same dumb idea. But it gained traction because it feels real. In a year when guys tried to out-guy one another via Cybertruck purchases and diss tracks, isn’t it more plausible than ever that they’d try to one-up each other at nothing?
Relax, try-hards, and try harder. If you’re going minimalist, go all the way. Rawdog the whole trip. Go somewhere new, with no plans, no guidebook, and—this is the key ingredient—no companions. If you do this in a foreign country whose language you do not speak, all the better. Solo travel, in an unfamiliar place and with an empty itinerary, is more extreme. It is much rawer. And it is delicious.
Apparently, we’re already doing it. Sixty-nine per cent of Americans planned to take a trip by themselves this year, according to an American Express survey. The number goes up to 76 per cent for millennials and Gen Z, which suggests younger people are more comfortable in their own company or else they are more unpleasant to be around. I have found both to be true!
Either way, I believe in solo travel with the zeal of the convert.
My conversion happened this summer in Italy, a place I had only seen over and over and over again on my Instagram feed. For years, it seemed like everyone went to Italy in the summer, and it was time for me to be everyone. As luck would have it, Gruppo Montenegro, a food and spirits company, invited me to tour its amaro distilleries in Bologna and Venice. It was all the excuse I needed. After the official business ended, I extended the trip five days.
When I touched down in Bologna, it hit me that I’d done nothing to give those five days any structure. I hadn’t picked out a town to hole up in, much less a room. I hadn’t learnt any words in Italian, including those for hello, help, and Italy. I hadn’t hit up my colleagues for good restaurants to try, and I work at Esquire magazine.
The official part of the trip was packed with activities, all of which, like everything in Italy, involved wine and snacks and Select Spritzes. When it wrapped up, I was in Venice, just me and my bag with nowhere to put ourselves. I stranded myself. And I liked the way it felt.
I hadn’t picked out a town to hole up in, much less a room. I hadn’t learned any words in Italian, including those for hello, help, and Italy. I hadn’t hit up my colleagues for good restaurants to try.
I’d had a grand and vague plan to rent a car and go into the mountains, or to hop on a train and find a small seaside village to make my own, but Venice was already in front of me, dense with art and architecture and history (and snacks and spritzes), so why not stay? I rented an Airbnb in the relatively quiet neighbourhood of Cannaregio and rawdogged Venice, with nothing on the agenda but my own whims.
So I followed them. I wandered, alone. The thing about Venice is that it is so tightly packed that you don’t really see the sights until you’re right on top of them. You turn a corner and the Rialto Bridge jumps out at you. You take a left off the footbridge over the canal and a massive medieval cathedral full of Renaissance art takes you by surprise. And you are always within arm’s reach of wine and snacks. It is a barrage of beautiful sights, sounds and smells, and I immediately understood how my dog feels whenever he sticks his head out my passenger-side window.
The urge to talk to people became overwhelming, particularly after a few lunchtime proseccos. I admit I broke from the ways of the rawdogger by making ample use of the iPhone Translate app, which is how I learnt that Italian is a language with an extremely high percentage of words that are fun to say. Italian could have stopped at “Ciao!” and secured a top-three finish in this category, but it did not. “Costruzione!” I shouted upon seeing a construction site. “Ospedale!” I bellowed as I passed the hospital across from the cemetery. “Sto imparando l’Italiano moltooooolentamenteeeee!” I enthused, surely the most triumphant reading of the statement “I am learning Italian very slowly” that any of my waiters and bartenders had ever heard. Honestly, I got on my own nerves this way only three or four times.
According to that American Express survey, two thirds of solo travellers planned their trips around self-care. There is no self-care like being on your own, in a place where you know no one, where a conversation with another person is impossible unless they only want you to shout “Construction!” at them. The conversation moves inward. You decide for yourself how you feel about Piazza San Marco or Canova’s tomb or the 12th little plate of ham you just ate. When there’s nobody to talk to, you learn to recognise the sound of your own voice.
The answers you seek within your soul aren’t in the seat back. They’re out on the streets of a place you’ve never been. They’re in the overheard snippets of rat-a-tat conversation in a language you cannot understand. If you are in Italy, they’re in spritzes and snacks. They’re in the simple act of maximum self-care: answering for yourself the question “What do I want to do with this day?”
Rawdog your next trip. But don’t be a weirdo: Bring a book for the flight.
Originally published on Esquire US
Lando Norris, the McLaren Formula 1 wunderkind has clinched first position at the recent Singapore Grand Prix. Even with his brief respite at the winner's podium, Norris' is off to another track to eye his next pole position. As someone on the go, Norris' partnership with TUMI exemplifies their shared values of precision, performance and innovation.
As TUMI is the perfect companion for the professional who isn't content to remain still, Norris is the embodiment of a lifestyle that demands efficiency while traveling globally. We spoke to Norris before his historic win about what he does in Singapore, what he brings whenever he travels and about his association with TUMI.
ESQUIRE SINGAPORE: What do you look forward to the most at the Singapore Grand Prix?
LANDO NORRIS: It's where I first started the lando.jpg account, so I try to go around and capture bits whenever I'm in Singapore.
ESQ: Given the Singaporean climate, how does it affect your performance?
LN: I’d say it doesn’t affect my performance but we do prepare for this race differently than we usually would for others by doing more heat training beforehand and ice baths straight after the session.
ESQ: How do you and your team adapt your routine during the race weekend to align with the night race schedule?
LN: We pretty much stay on European time for the whole weekend, meaning we have dinner when people are having breakfast and vice versa.
ESQ: Where do you usually head to whenever you’re in Singapore?
LN: I've started playing Padel over the last year or so and there's a court I went to last year so I'll try to go there again this year!
ESQ: What are some things that you’d always take with you when you travel?
LN: I’m a big gamer, so I usually bring my gaming laptop which is why I love the TUMI Navigation Backpack—it’s large enough to fit it along with my other stuff. I’m also always bringing an LN4 hoodie. I love wearing comfortable clothes when I travel.
ESQ: What does being a TUMI ambassador mean to you personally and professionally?
LN: This is my third year as a TUMI ambassador, and it’s been fun working with the team. TUMI and I both value the importance of innovation and functionality while still looking good. TUMI products—from the packing cases to backpacks to accessories like the shoe bag and packing cubes—have optimised my travel experience and allowed me to focus on being my best. Whether it’s preparing for a race weekend or being present with those around me.
ESQ: What aspects of TUMI's values and products resonate most with your personal and professional ethos?
LN: Both TUMI and I are always striving to succeed and evolve. I’m always looking to optimise my performance, and similarly, TUMI is always innovating and evolving its products.
ESQ: How do you incorporate TUMI products into your daily life and travels? Are there any specific items you find indispensable?
LN: Since I’m travelling so often, I always have some TUMI with me—usually my carry-on case or backpack. It’s hard to pick a favourite, but I find myself reaching for the 19 Degree Aluminium carry-on case the most often. It’s extremely stylish and also functional—really can’t go wrong.
ESQ: What excites you most about the new Turin collection? Which bag from the Turin collection do you personally prefer and what makes it stand out to you?
LN: I love that Turin is super sleek, the standout item for me has to be the Allora Tote with the silver “T” logo.
ESQ: What role does travel play outside of racing and how do TUMI products enhance that experience?
LN: Travel, beyond the realm of racing, offers an opportunity to connect with people and experience different cultures. TUMI ensures that these experiences are as seamless as possible by providing functional and durable products. Whether I need a compact sling for a day trip or a spacious packing case for a two-week journey, TUMI has everything I need for smooth travelling.
ESQ: Any memorable story or experience where TUMI products made a significant difference for you?
LN: I'd say it's being able to get all of my things back into my bags by the end of the weekend, it seems like no matter how badly I pack it all goes back in!
ESQ: Looking ahead, how do you see your role with TUMI evolve?
LN: Both TUMI and I share a deep commitment to performance and excellence in our respective fields. As our partnership evolves, I look forward to us pushing boundaries and driving innovation together.
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I have been to Desaru before. I likely won't forget about my first visit there, but not for the reasons you'd imagine. A classic case of Looked Better In Pictures. Catfished by a resort, if you will. It wasn't a particularly terrible night; facilities were functional and the advertised beach diligently lived up to its reputation. Yet, the one thing I remember was failing to fall asleep when dark fell, due to how unsafe I felt with the sheer lack of guests on the property.
Fast forward a couple of years to when the pandemic was just around the corner. Early announcements of One&Only debuting an outpost on the touristy Malaysian coast were circulating. Significant, being the first Southeast Asian destination of the brand's five-star portfolio. Sadly, as the world then came to a standstill, so did further news on the latest addition.
Thus when presented the opportunity to finally to pop by for a stay while attending the signature Four Hands of its Embers Beach Club, the conclusion is obvious. Chiefly that with One&Only, what you see is what you get.
You arrive to a verdant lawn framed by parallel blocks on both sides. Tread away from the lobby and the green cascades towards the main pool, an emerald runway symmetrically flanked by daybeds as it reaches for the ocean. The visual narrative of neat lines is inherited from its esteemed architect Kerry Hill, whose work here was ultimately a swan song before his passing.
The tropical retreat is likely not the only one that's home to over 80 species of flora and fauna, but preserving the original habitation was very much a deliberate decision. You'll find trees repurposed as signposts, like one that points towards the coordinates of other One&Only resorts.
You can put yourself down for a concise, on-site nature walk (10/10 recommend) as part of the one complimentary daily activity to fully appreciate the forestry of the 1,500 square metre mini kingdom. The most grandiose of the efforts resides at the One&Only Spa.
The intentionality of the space's design is evident, a personal favourite of the entire property I might add. Past the doors of reception, you enter an uncharacteristically dark passageway, and your vision focuses entirely on the light emanating at the end. At dead centre, a majestic, over 300 year-old Banyan tree. Besides the adjacent decked out (Techno)gym and cold plunge, the picturesque patio past the historic tree are easily the Spa's highlights.
The thematic reverance for nature pervades the suites. Locally sourced stone, cane, yellow balau timber and even the planted green roofs that you can't see from within.
The central courtyard is, without doubt, the most unique feature. Dividing spacious bed chambers from equally large bathrooms, it's also the most complained about, we're told. Seems it takes some getting used to for us first-world, ensuite folk.
Yet, I can't help thinking it's this very layout that sets the resort apart from many other luxury, nature-infused getaways. More meaningfully, it takes inspiration from traditional Malaysian kampung (village) housing that's filled with the weather's elements. Which unfortunately, the outdoor furniture are also at mercy of.
Still, it's a clever combination having the petite pool at the heart and the option to slide open connecting doors, all whilst shielded away by the exterior blinds. It allows a guest experience that feels both liberating while maintaining a desired level of privacy.
Housed within the estate are Japanese restaurant Hoshi with a towering vibrant mural, and Dusky Monkey bar with its portraits of the very dusky monkey it earns its moniker from, candidly photographed sitting at the counter by the establishment's former General Manager.
Ambara serves lovely cuisine of the country complete with an open kitchen to catch the action; but if you want that schnazzy pool hang, Ember Beach Club oozes that while simultaneously carrying a more intimate tone in the evening.
It makes perfect sense that even non-staying patrons come by to spend the entire afternoon there. To make the most of it though, align your calendar with the seasonal Four Hands that Chef Andrew Walsh divulges for a taste of Cure, matched with the best of the collaboration's guest chef.
Just a two-hour drive away under ideal traffic conditions, it honestly wins out further travel for an idyllic white-sand-turquoise-sea vacation. And believe me when I say that this time, it wasn't difficult falling asleep.
Rosewood Phnom Penh unveiled its first-ever "Taste of Cambodia," a culinary showcase that highlighted the country's burgeoning food scene. Running between 12 to 15 September, the event was a series of exclusive kitchen and bar takeovers, star-studded chef collabs, and an indulgent Sunday brunch... all while putting Cambodian ingredients and culinary traditions front and centre.
One of the standout features of this event is its commitment to community, with a charity dinner on 14 September to support Smiling Gecko, an organisation dedicated to helping thousands of Khmer families through education, training, and sustainable farming initiatives. The evening united five top chefs for a philanthropic dining experience, celebrating both Cambodia’s culinary promise and its cultural heritage.
“'The Taste of Cambodia' is more than just an event—it’s a nod to the country’s growing presence on the global dining stage,” says Daniel Simon, managing director of Rosewood Phnom Penh. “We’re blending international and local flavours to highlight Cambodia’s dynamic future, and the partnerships we’ve curated speak volumes about the country’s culinary potential.”
The event begins with a Nikka Whisky takeover at the Whisky Library, marking the Japanese brand’s first year-long collaboration in Cambodia. It was also the moment where Nikka announced a bottle to commemorate the brand's 90 years in the whisky business: the Nikka Nine Decades. While it wasn't readily available for tasting; guests still had the chance to sip Nikka’s other refined spirits while soaking in the cozy ambiance of the library-style bar.
Hailing from Sapporo, Bar OWL&ROOSTER took over Sora’s rooftop bar. Bar OWL&ROOSTER has reaped the spoils from its choices since opening during COVID, nabbing a spot in The 50 Best Bars in the 2022 Discovery Bar award category. Founder and mixologist Hisatsugu Saito worked the shift at Sora, crafting his famed Nikka Whisky cocktails, paired with oysters and sparkling wine sets.
Chef Alexis Moko of Kyoto’s Michelin-starred Moko brought his seasonal, French-Japanese fusion dishes to CUTS steakhouse. Set menus abound with beef striploin with fermented black garlic and sea bass with Champagne sauce and caviar. Rosewood Phnom Penh’s own Chef Teng Kam Seng joined forces with Chef Matthew Geng of Rosewood Bangkok’s Nan Bei for a four-hands dinner at Zhan Liang and delivered a masterclass in refined Chinese cuisine.
For the charity dinner to raise funds for Smiling Gecko, five acclaimed chefs—including Cambodia's own Sothea Seng, Mariya Un Noun, and Sopheak Sao—collaborated on a 10-hands meal. Dishes like Ambok rice-crusted scallops and chocolate desserts were the highlight of the evening. But all good things must end and the Taste of Cambodia went out with a bang with a lavish Sunday brunch at Brasserie Louis. Free-flow sparkling wine, live carving stations, and a blend of French and Khmer culinary delights were the order of the day.
Whether through creative cocktails, Michelin-starred bites, or the celebration of local produce, Taste of Cambodia not only highlights the Rosewood Phnom Penh as a key player in Cambodia’s evolving food scene but the country as well.
For more details on Rosewood Phnom Penh's future activities, click here