Liu Xian Guan Teahouse Beijing, China

Peace and quiet are virtues not often ascribed to Beijing. It's a city referred to by locals as renaoa word for lively that melds the characters for hot and noisy. Hence the allure of Liu Xian Guan, a tea shop opposite the serene, 600-year-old Confucius Temple, where for centuries the country's best and brightest came to take their exams for the civil service. Inside, 40 excellent varieties of tea are served with as little fanfare as you like. Outside the window, the temple's deep red walls set off its sloping yellow roofs and gnarled cedars. And if you sit and gaze, nursing the same teapot for hours, no one asks you to leave. Instead, a dish of melon seeds or candied kumquats appears on the table so silently that you'll barely notice. The shop's name, incidentally, is a nod to the sage honored across the street. Liu xian means lingering virtue. In a city of irrepressible car horns and street hawkers armed with megaphones, linger is exactly what you'll want to do.