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Mykonos is the classic Greek-island stop and, along with Santorini, it’s the most touristy. But being on Mykonos recently reminded me how enduringly charming the Greek islands are — even when they’re extremely crowded.
I’m not the cocktails-at-happy-hour type of traveler. But this summer, I savored a peaceful moment in Siena’s great square, Il Campo, sipping a glass of “vin santo” as the early evening light bathed the red-brick stone. My five-euro drink gave me a front-row seat at the best table on the square, and for a leisurely hour I soaked up the promenading action that nightly turns Il Campo into “Il Italian Fashion Show.”
What doesn’t change about Italy is that it’s always changing. In 2012 some long-closed doors are opening again. Historic sights, newly scrubbed and restored, are coming out from behind scaffolding. A few more monuments are still under wraps, but getting closer to completion. Italy is revealing itself anew (or molting).
While Europe is my passion and the focus of my work, Latin America has long held a fascination for me. I took my first trip to the region (to Nicaragua and El Salvador) in 1988, during El Salvador’s civil war. I returned to both countries in 1991, after the war ended, and again to El Salvador in 2005. Here are some impressions I brought back from my most recent visit last Christmas.
More than any other place in Europe, Berlin is a work in progress. Over the last two decades, ripped-up tracks and a canopy of cranes have signaled its rebirth as a great city. If you haven't been here lately, you won't recognize the place.
Thirty-two years ago, I met two American college girls while hitchhiking in Switzerland. They were studying in Florence, and I asked them their favorite place in Italy. They surprised me by naming a place I had never heard of before: the Cinque Terre. Curious, I headed south and discovered a humble string of five villages along Italy’s Riviera coast with almost no tourism — and, it seemed, almost no contact with the modern world. I fell in love with this stretch of Mediterranean coastline and have returned almost every year since.
If my hotel was burning down and I could grab just one thing, it would be my digital camera with its memory card filled with photos.
Many people travel across the Atlantic in search of "Old World" Europe and to witness traditional culture in action. But with most of Europe firmly entrenched in the modern world, travelers are getting fewer opportunities to glimpse the old way of life.
I'm in Volterra, my favorite small town in Tuscany, sitting under rustic, noble stones at the base of a palace that made commoners feel small six centuries ago. Bats burst through the floodlights amid ghostly towers held together with rusted iron corsets. These stones have soul. The countless peasant backs they bent so many centuries ago gave to future generations the architectural equivalent of fine wines — something to be savored and pondered in solitary moments like this one.
Europe is safe when it comes to violent crime. But it's a surprisingly creative place when it comes to travel scams. Pickpockets and con artists target Americans — not because these crooks are mean, but because they're smart.
Electronic communication, such as disposable mobile phones, cheap and easy Wi-Fi, and social networking, is revolutionizing the way we travel.
Watching "Rick Steves' Europe" with my friends, I always wish I could take them behind the scenes to show them the "glamour" of filming. It takes six days to film a 30-minute television episode , and it is an exhilarating and exhausting scramble from start to finish.
Touristic, glorious, and romantic, some of Germany's best attractions are in Bavaria. My favorites are three of King Ludwig II's castles: stocky Hohenschwangau, his boyhood home; the nearby and fanciful Neuschwanstein, his dream escape; and Linderhof, his final retreat.
Despite France's reputation for fine restaurants and grand cafes, one of my most memorable meals was actually a picnic on a bench in Chartres. Munching my baguette with Emmentaler cheese and sipping my box of juice in front of the floodlit cathedral, I acknowledged the bum on the next bench.
Turkey is changing fast. And it's modernizing fast. For my vacation this year, I hit the road in Turkey, with romantic memories (a few years old) of horse-drawn carriages and villages with economies powered by hay, dung, and ducks. While that rustic old world is tougher to find, the deep traditions and warm hospitality of the region are as endearing as ever, especially if you venture past the predictable sights and tourist zones. Turkey has a sparse and frustrating train system, but flights are cheap and competitive bus companies provide easy, comfy, and inexpensive connections throughout the land.
Each July, a million revelers pack into Pamplona, Spain, for the raucous Festival of San Fermin. They come to this proud town in the Pyrenees foothills for music, fireworks, and merrymaking. Bu t most of all, they come for the Running of the Bulls, when fearless (or foolish) adventurers — called mozos — thrust themselves into the path of six furious bulls.
At Europe's lively open-air markets and bazaars, bargaining for merchandise is the accepted and expected method of setting a price. Whether you are looking for doorknockers or hand-knitted sweaters seize the chance to bargain like a native. It's the only way to find a compromise between the wishful thinking of the seller and the souvenir lust of the tourist.
Budapest, the cultural capital of Hungary and much of Central Europe, has no shortage of nightlife. You can go there for grand opera, folk music and dancing, a twilight boat trip, or live music in a nightclub.
My kids are young adults now, but I remember what it was like taking them to Europe at various ages. When they were in their single digits, our trips were consumed with basic survival issues, such as eating and sleeping. By the time they entered their teens, the big challenge became making our trips educational and fun.
It's sunset, and I'm at the place to be in Granada — the breathtaking San Nicolas viewpoint overlooking the fortress of the Alhambra. Here, at the edge of the city's exotic Moorish quarter, lovers, widows, and tourists jostle for the best view of the hill-capping, floodlit fortress, the last stronghold of the Moorish kingdom in Spain. For more than 700 years, Spain, the most Catholic of countries, lived under Muslim rule, until the Christians retook the land in 1492.
While Europe is my passion and the focus of my work, Central America has long held a fascination for me. I took my first trip to the region in 1988, during El Salvador's civil war. Over the years, I've returned to Nicaragua and El Salvador several times, as recently as a few months ago. In my columns, I'll periodically share some impressions from my latest trip.
Vienna is a city with a rich culture you can almost inhale and a vivid history you can practically touch. As I walked out of my hotel on a Sunday morning, I decided to skip the sights and immerse myself in Vienna's wealth of cultural offerings.
When I travel, I still get a little rush when I settle into the right train. With each journey, I celebrate the joy of not having to drive. Riding the rails through Europe is less stressful, better for the environment, and just plain friendly — offering a relaxed way to connect with traveling Europeans.
People always tell me how lucky I am to be eating my way through Europe. But my appreciation of good food was slow in coming. On my first trip to Europe sans parents, I packed along a big plastic tube filled with a swirl of peanut butter and strawberry jam. Every meal I spread it on bread and washed it down with soda pop.
I used to think of Athens as a big, ugly city with obligatory ancient sights, fine museums, the Plaka (an extremely tour old quarter), and not much else. "The joy of Greece is outside of Athens," I wrote. "See the museums and scram."
Helsinki and Tallinn are two great capitals in Northern Europe. Just 50 miles and a two-hour ferry ride apart, these two cities — facing each other across the Baltic Sea from their respective countries of Finland and Estonia — are not only neighbors, but soul sisters.
Travel is best with a few rough edges. I once suffered through an all-night stint on the blistered, black vinyl floor of a Yugoslavian train in order to wake up in Sofia, Bulgaria. When I stumbled out of that station into a blue, new Bulgarian day, just being off the train made Sofia a thrilling destination.
Madrid is the hub of Spain. This modern capital — Europe's highest, at more than 2,000 feet — has a population of 3.2 million. Like its people, the city is relatively young. One hundred years ago, Madrid had only 400,000 residents — so the majority of today's Madrid is modern sprawl surrounding an intact, easy-to-navigate historic core.
You're winging your way across Europe, having the time of your life, when you make a simple mistake. You set your bag down as you slurp an extra-large gelato, and before you know it your bag is gone. Unfortunately, today's the day you tucked your passport, credit cards, and extra cash in your bag instead of in your money belt. That sinking feeling is the realization that — except for the euro or two in your pocket — you've lost everything.
In Oslo, Norway's capital, a big statue of a tiger sits in front of the train station. A local once explained that Oslo is nicknamed the Tiger City because in the 19th century, when country boys would visit the wild and crazy "New York City of Norway," it would "make a mark on their soul."