They call New Mexico the Land of Enchantment, and it doesn’t take long to understand why. This is a place of sweeping desert, of deep expanse and of dizzying mysticism. Santa Fe is its capital—the oldest capital city in the U.S., in fact—and it provides the perfect jumping-off point for the magic that this state has to offer. —Sara Harowitz
Stay: Begin each day at the Rosewood Inn of the Anasazi, which emulates Rosewood’s signature service from the second you walk in the door. Sip on warm apple cider and nibble on a chocolate chip cookie as you wait for your key; once inside the room, do your best not to immediately face-plant into the plush bed (easier said than done). The ice bucket will already be filled (there’s that signature service again) and there will be a silver coin waiting for you to redeem for a Silver Coin Margarita in the Anasazi Bar & Lounge. Order the tuna poke, grilled seasonal vegetables and patatas bravas to munch on alongside your cocktail. The quiet luxury of a hotel like this is that you never know who you’ll meet; the man next to you at the bar might just have made a wedding ring for Robert Redford, lovingly (and casually) referring to him as “Uncle Bob.” Just another day in paradise, it seems.
Savour: There is no shortage of incredible Mexican fare in Santa Fe. This state is known for its locally grown red and green chiles, which are made into sauces that are smothered on just about everything. Choose your hue, or opt for “Christmas” (both red and green at once; a must). The Plaza Cafe in Santa Fe’s main square is the city’s oldest restaurant, but that doesn’t stop it from serving up the freshest food. Similarly delicious is The Shed—a dining institution with an idyllic patio where the blue corn enchiladas are hard to beat. Speaking of patios, Coyote Cafe’s rooftop is the perfect place for an afternoon margarita, although so is the quiet garden at Joe’s Tequila Bar.
Sip: Santa Fe will prove to be less a question of what to drink (the answer is always a margarita) and more of where to do it. For a brief break from tequila, though, consider a refreshing glass of cider at New Mexico Hard Cider or a flight of local vino at Herve Wine Bar. You’ll find great coffee at 35° North, and excellent vegan desserts at Route 66 Cafe (including New Mexico’s state cookie, the biscochito: a star-shaped delight with hints of orange and star anise). For a taste of the western lifestyle, visit Cowgirl BBQ: its kitschy décor is reason enough to stop by, but the happy hour chicken wings (and margaritas, of course) are nothing to ignore, either.
See: For some adventure, head an hour’s drive outside the city to Bandelier National Monument: a stunning park spanning over 33,000 acres of canyon, mesas and cliffs. Here you’ll discover cave dwellings and petroglyphs of the Ancestral Pueblo People, who lived in the area more than 11,000 years ago. Climb ladders 140 feet up and you’ll find yourself in Alcove House: a cave home that shows off gorgeous views of Frijoles Canyon below. Also an hour from Santa Fe sits Ghost Ranch in the town of Abiquiu. The former dude ranch was once home to iconic American painter Georgia O’Keeffe, who owned a small cottage on the property; enclosed by mesas, quarries and cliffs, this historic place includes rocks that date back 130 million years (yes, there are dinosaur fossils). Its gob-smacking natural beauty became a rich source of inspiration for O’Keeffe, and superfans will recognize its vistas from some of her paintings.
Sojourn: Slather on some sunscreen and hike up to Chimney Rock (about two hours round-trip)—the climb is well worth the effort, with every turn revealing a different perspective of the rock formations. From light tans to soft pinks to deep reds, the vistas will leave you speechless. There is a definite humbling quality, a quieting; among this land; prepare to feel profoundly and beautifully small. Back down the mountain and wandering among the grounds, I suddenly feel a hard yet playful tug on the back of my bag. I turn around expecting to be met by a mischievous smile from my boyfriend, but he looks at me cluelessly and swears it wasn’t him. I may never know for sure, but I like to think it was the ghost of O’Keeffe, gently hinting that my time in this place isn’t over. It’s hard not to imagine being drawn back, and I think you’ll feel it, too.
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