PERCHING BAR @ PARC ARBOXYGENE- Reims, France

In France, there certainly is no shortage of absolutely fabulous ways for one to spend their time. However, the Perching Bar is truly the definition of haute fabuleaux (no pun intended), because you are, in fact, sipping a gorgeous selection of champagnes 18 feet above ground in a positively glamorous treehouse. 15 minutes from Reims (or 45 from Paris) puts you in the heart of Parc Arboxygene, which in itself is a bit of a haven for zip-liners and jungle acrobats alike.

10 more minutes of upward trekking which includes a stint on a suspended wooden footbridge and you’ve arrived at what is certainly one of the most unique outposts in the world. Inside, they’ve kept it classic rustic treehouse with a dab of chic- we’re talking stilts, comfortable furniture, modern designs carved into the wooden benches surrounding the perimeter, and sexy low-lighting at night which makes for a fairy tale-like setting. If your inner child isn’t convinced yet, they’ve even got rope-handle swings hanging from the ceiling.

Whether you sample the menu or simply want to soak in the incredibly lush views, entrance is 15 Euro (1 glass of bubbly included), and you definitely want to be there to see or be seen on Thursday, Friday or Saturday nights. Just delightful... www.perchingbar.eu

HOTELS FOR LONERS

"I vant to be alone..." If you've ever just wanted to channel your inner Greta Garbo and disappear from it all, literally, we've got the place for you. Meet the Bubble Hotel. Here's what we know: First, it's in Estonia, but far far away from any sort of civilization (approximately 150 km from Tallinn). Second, it's spartan- we're talking a 3 x4 meter living space with a bed, table, and two chairs...and yes, sans private toilet. Third, this thing is inflatable and shaped like a translucent bubble, and at the end of the day it's just the perfect place for anyone who truly wants to become one with nature and escape any sort of noise.

 

If you still "vant to be alone" but you feel just a bit better knowing there actually are human beings in the immediate vicinity, consider the new one-room rooftop boat hotel atop the Queen Elizabeth Hall at Southbank Centre in jolly old London. This architectural feat is a room for one, a haven and refuge from the bustling energy of the city. It's difficult to beat the panoramic views, and unlike some other quirky properties of a similar ilk, this one is stocked with all of the amenities you crave and prefer not to do without. The Room for London is almost impossible to get into as it's been nearly fully booked since it opened, but definitely add it on your list of sights to see when next in the area.

YOU SAY TOMATO, I SAY TO-MAH-TO...RUNNING WITH THE BULLS
 Mid-twenties, overworked and underpaid at a job I loved and loathed at the same time (loved only because it was in travel), post-breakup from a ridiculous relationship and in dire need of a summer jaunt. Me circa 2002, as I sat at my desk literally spinning a globe and throwing fun-tak at it to see what stuck. OK, so that didn’t work well, but far-too-low Iberia fare dropped in my inbox and off I went, decision made. I would run with the bulls. Solo.

I’d always wanted to do this, and it seemed like the perfect time to run. Run with the bulls, run from what was bugging me, run towards an adventure and off I went. Good old San Fermin, where would we be without him- a man who’s thought to have met his tragic end by being overrun by bulls in Pamplona, thus opening the door somehow hundreds of years later for thousands of fanatical, fervent revelers ready to take on the challenge head on. And so it goes, I arrived just in time for the beginning in early July, which starts with a bank, literally- with a spectacular rocket display known as the chupinazo. Then, the madness sets in, and for me it was sheer bliss.

8 AM the following day, dressed in the obligatory crisp white pants, white shirt and red scarf proudly tied around my neck...there I stood looking around at hundreds of strangers, and BAM! Crash/firecracker/yelling/screaming/laughing/chanting/handwaving all in that order followed by a huge tidal wave-strength shove as the masses pushed forward taking me with them. Why? Because there were GIGANTIC BULLS TRAILING BEHIND. It seems funny when you think about it (usually from thousands of miles away) but when you’re there and you see these things, you can either freeze or do your best Usain Bolt impression and get the heck out of dodge, literally. I recommend following the locals that chant to San Fermin for help and then run like nobody’s business. This is no joke, these things are real and can (and do) gore people or stomp over them. OK, so I didn’t run miles and miles each day, I’ll admit I only ran THAT day, but still it was incredible.

Your reward after such a daring feat? Getting soaked by thousands of tomatoes being pelted from all directions by fellow revelers which feels surprisingly amazing. Gone are your worries about the white clothes, wet socks, seeds stuck in your hair. Actually, gone are your worries about anything at all- while you hurl fruit at strangers that somehow become friends as you realize you’re a part of a most spectacular celebration of happiness and life. This is truly not having a care in the world, and it’s brilliant. Not for the faint of heart, but definitely for someone who needs a bit of a shake up and game-changer. I’d do it again, and I will.