When I realized that the sofa was on wheels, the decision was a done deal.

I had stacked the fireplace with fresh wood, forming the base with two parallel logs, small sticks, and shreds of newspaper. After lighting the paper and seeing the ink burn green, I added a few more twigs and crossed a log over top of the two larger ones. Bending down at the knee, my elbows on my thighs, I held my hands out and bent my hands at the wrist, feeling the warmth begin to grow and hearing the wood begin to split and crack. There was a perfectly good bed in the other room, but the living room would be my resting place tonight, the flames my lullaby. I rolled the sofa in front of the fire and laid down, pulling the blanket up to my chin. With the lights out, the flames danced upon the walls and ceiling, and I could feel the orange glow on my face, the soft socks on my toes, the blanket protecting the rest of my body.

In this imagery lies the deep connection I found during my stay at the Alisal Ranch, a luxury property located in the heart of Santa Ynez wine country, 45 minutes over the mountains from Santa Barbara. The concept of a luxurious ranch at first seemed contradictory to me, given the fact that most luxury properties fence you in from the world around you. Alisal may have the same wish – that you never leave – but they give you a longer leash than most.

In some cases, as in the scene I described above, I was content to allow the accommodations to paralyze me. That is, after all, the main purpose of paying for luxury, feeling all wrapped up and cozy and relaxed and like you’ve elevated your existence. For me, though, a man on a mission, a person who needs to feel accomplished at the end of the day, the Alisal delivered on a much higher level – it made it reasonable for a young guy like me to pencil this place into my plans.

The first morning I woke up early – the fire in front of me now quiet – and stepped out into the cool, brisk morning. The mountains blocked the direct sunlight, but the sky was clear and I could see the dry, golden hillsides leading up towards the blue sky. More than a hundred horses were waiting in the corral, but only one had my name on it. Riding takes place every morning and afternoon, but twice a week a trail is blazed into the woods where a campfire and breakfast await (about an hour ride each way for beginners). To see me in action, click here.

Horseback riding, the main draw at Alisal, is kind of funny now that I’ve had time to analyze it – in the moment it was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Obviously the animals are beautiful, and that – the fact that you are sitting on and riding and harnessing the power of a beast – is in itself a romantic, incredible feeling. When you imagine our ancestors harnessing this power for the first time, it becomes quite endearing (then there are the times when you’re atop the horses and they all start pooping and peeing simultaneously, but I’ll leave you to experience that humorous twist for yourself). The ride leads you past the 100-acre private lake, which we will dive into next post.

While a majority of the trails on-site are used for riding, many of them can be hiked as well. There’s a good one that leads you from Alisal up to a spot called Vista Point, and it provides pretty views of the Santa Ynez Valley (see photos below). It’s very short (under 2 miles roundtrip) with slight to mild changes in elevation, no challenge for someone in shape and doable for most who enjoy a rewarding walk.

Here are a few photos of the property and its assets. We'll get into some of the specific activities next post:

Even though proper preparation prevents poor performance, I sometimes find it fun to descend upon a city with little to no prior knowledge of its offerings. Not the best strategy in the world for a travel writer, but I will admit that the surprise and awe that comes from having no expectations about a destination is one of my favorite parts of travel.

Last week I descended upon Montreal without a clue in the world (like a good little American traveler, my Canadian friends would joke), experiencing it all for the first time and blowing with the wind based on loose recommendations from colleagues, friends, and fellow travelers. Montreal jumped out at me in many ways, the first big surprise needing no introduction. It was staring me in the face the moment I arrived: There's a mountain in the middle of the city.

All right, it's more of a hill, but don't tell the Montrealers that. Regardless of your perception of its size, it's hard to argue that it's not beautiful. Jacques Cartier named the area "Mont Real," which is French for Mount Royal, after climbing the hill and gazing out upon the land (those interested in the specific history can read more here). I had the opportunity to climb Mount Royal while in town, and you can see some photos below of the view. I timed it pretty well with not only the sunset, but the peak of the fall colors in the area. Mount Royal is a combination of residential areas, hiking/walking trails, and public space.

A few other things:

Montreal is an island. Don't believe me? See for yourself. It is 141 square miles as compared to Manhattan's 34 square miles.

Montreal has a 20-plus mile underground city. Our guide told us that Montrealers aren't moles, but it seems like they pretend to be in the winter. The underground city not only houses the metro, but it connects hotels, apartments, office buildings, and thousands of shops all over the city. With an average January temperature of around 16 degreesFahrenheit, this network seems to be more of a necessity than a luxury. It can be pretty "mazy" at times - a bit of a labyrinth - but it beats the hell out of a ripping winter wind in your face. Keep a close eye on the signs and you'll be fine.

Montrealers have mad skills when it comes to languages. Really mad skills, actually. Quebec as a province is ripping it up, with about 40% of its residents reportedly bilingual and 16% speaking a third language (the tourism board estimates it to be about 25% speaking a third language within the city of Montreal, although I haven't been able to confirm that stat). That's ridiculously impressive, considering we barely get around to a second language here in the United States.

French is the official language in Montreal, and it is the second-largest French-speaking city in the world behind Paris. Although there are restrictions against signs in languages other than French in an effort to preserve their culture, I did not have a problem in any part of town speaking English alone. That said, meeting residents of all ages who had comfortable control of two (if not three or four) languages was really inspiring. I found myself mumbling French under my breath throughout my trip, cursing my ignorant youth as well as the educational processes that have left Americans in the dust when it comes to language skills.

Jerry Seinfeld and Jim Carey were discovered at the Montreal Comedy Festival. I won't get into what the definition of "discovered" means, but it turns out Canada has more to offer the comedy world than material for American comedians. "Just for Laughs" is the world's largest comedy festival held every summer in the city -  a good event to plan a trip around during the warmer months.

The rundown on the food scene and some interesting history surrounding the Queen Elizabeth Hotel is on the way. Here are a few photos I snapped from the top of Mount Royal as the sun started to set and the colors changed: