Mid-2026 Europe Update: Red Tape, Heat Waves, and Overtourism

Travel is always changing. And midway through 2026, Europe-bound travelers have already experienced more than our share of ups and downs.

I’ve spent about 50 days in Europe so far in 2026, divided between two trips: In April and May, I was in Berlin, Munich, and Greece (Crete and the Peloponnese). And in June and July, I was in Vienna; the German, Austrian, and Italian Alps (from Berchtesgaden to Innsbruck to Kastelruth); and Slovenia.

Now I’m gearing up for my fall travels — and you may be, too. So let’s take a moment to consider some of the big stories in European travel, from new red tape (EES) to heat waves to the current state of the “overtourism” crisis… with some perspective on how the breathless headlines and clickbait posts compare to the traveler’s reality on the ground.

New Red Tape: EES

The big news this year has been the bumpy-at-times introduction of the new EES border protocol upon entering or exiting the Schengen zone (most of continental Europe, plus Iceland). We’ve covered this story in much greater detail on our Travel Updates and Insights blog. But the upshot is that Europe’s new passport processing has caused isolated, significant delays at some airports.

While these horror stories are real, they represent only a miniscule fraction of all European trips. Personally, I’ve gone through EES four times (twice on my way into Europe, twice on my way out of Europe) at different airports. I’ve also polled dozens of colleagues and fellow travelers who’ve also experienced EES. What I’ve learned: The actual lived experience of the vast majority of Europe-bound travelers looks nothing like the blood-pressure-spiking, catastrophic scenes you may have seen on your social media feed.

For the lion’s share of travelers, EES is barely a blip: It may take a few more minutes to change planes, or to reach baggage claim after your flight. In those moments, “a few extra minutes” can feel like an eternity. But even the few people I’ve talked with who’ve experienced significant delays still avoided trip-ruining disruption. (Of course, this is small comfort if you’re one of the unlucky few who’s had real problems!)

So why are we hearing so much about EES doomsday delays? Because those stories get clicks. The social media algorithm that fuels EES horror stories is full of trumped-up “crises” designed to stress you out and keep you scrolling. Almost nobody (ahem, except me) would post about how they had no trouble zipping through EES to catch a tight connection. That would be terrible “content,”right?

But if you arrive at the airport a little too late for your flight, and run into an unexpectedly long line? Well, that’s solid gold for your socials… the kind of panic-inducing post that might go viral. (Especially if you blame the EES boogeyman, rather than your own lack of foresight.)

One rather odd response I’ve seen to the EES rollout is: “But I shouldn’t have to wait that long!” My goodness… you’re entering a foreign country, which is part of a massive open-borders free-trade zone with 27 nations and 450 million people. Of course you have to wait in line to make sure you’re entering legally. The next time you’re waiting an extra 10 or 15 minutes in a passport line, use that time constructively to consider what a privilege it is to travel internationally at all.

In the end, travel always comes with a risk of disruption — whether it’s because of a thunderstorm or a mechanical problem or understaffing or, yes, a new border-checkpoint technology that’s having some hiccups. I believe you’re still more likely to have trip troubles because of one of those other issues than because of EES. Last spring at Paris’ Charles de Gaulle airport — a full year before EES — I waited 45 minutes in the old-fashioned passport line to get into France. People in line with me didn’t angrily accuse the EU of mismanagement; they just intuitively understood that the checkpoint was understaffed when multiple flights landed simultaneously, and we were unlucky. Was it annoying? Absolutely, yes. Did it ruin my trip, or even my day? Meh… that’s just travel.

My practical advice: Don’t believe the overblown hype about EES problems, and don’t spend your entire flight fretting about making your connection. That said, when you get off the plane, don’t waste time shopping or getting a coffee — rather, head directly to the passport checkpoint to find the correct line and get a sense of how long (or how short) the wait is. If you’re cutting it really close for your connecting flight, politely identify yourself to the staff, and they will likely usher you to the front of the line.  Airports don’t want you to miss your flight any more than you do.

Most of all: Don’t believe everything you see on social media. And don’t worry until there’s something to worry about.

Heat Waves

So far already in 2026, Europe has experienced four separate heat waves — shattering all-time records in various corners of the Continent. As our planet’s climate continues to change due to our refusal to address an environmental crisis we’ve seen coming for decades, extreme weather in all its forms — including soaring temperatures — have become our new reality.

While I enjoyed mostly comfortable temperatures during my first trip this spring, my second trip — from mid-June through mid-July — coincided with one of those notorious heat waves, with several days well over the 90-degree mark (in countries that are usually much, much cooler). Even as someone who generally thrives in the heat, I found myself more wilted than I care to admit.

Perhaps the worst day came in Berchtesgaden, in the Bavarian Alps, where a 99-degree peak (with an overnight low around 70 degrees) coincided with a stay in a chalet-style traditional hotel with no air-conditioning. When I got back to my room after dinner and opened the window, it was still hotter outside than it was inside. I pulled the heavy duvet out of the cover — creating a lighter top-sheet — and set up a fan full-blast aimed directly at my head and torso.

As I tried to get some sleep through that sweaty night, I had a lot to think about: Uncomfortable as I was, this hotel had 40 other rooms that also lacked air-conditioning… all of us were in the same sticky fix. Most of my fellow guests were Germans, and I imagine that they might think me quite a wimp for whining. But these temperatures — just a few degrees off from Berchtesgaden’s all-time high — might be testing their threshold for discomfort, too.

During these heat waves, much has been written about Europeans’ resistance to embrace US-style industrial-strength air-conditioning, which seems to be rooted in a combination of protecting the environment and a stiff-upper-lip ethos of a little suffering being part of life. I live in Seattle, with a mild climate where AC is only strictly necessary a few days each summer. At least, that was the case a couple of decades ago. But as that number of “hot days” ticks up and up, more and more Seattleites — and more and more Europeans — are installing AC.

That’s much easier in a decades-old American home than in a centuries-old European hotel. At my next hotel, near Innsbruck, the third-generation owner explained that they’d only just installed AC in a few of their top-floor rooms for the first time, two years ago. Fortunately, they were gracious enough to put me in one of those rooms — and each time I stepped into the hall, it felt like I was walking into a sauna. Grateful as I was to have a cool escape, I worried about other guests who were not as fortunate. Hotels that have only a few AC rooms create a sort of hierarchy of comfort within the same walls: At breakfast, some of us were refreshed and rested, while others look like they’d been wrung out and hung up damp.

The practical takeaway for travelers is that we can’t just assume that we’ll have AC — so, if you’re sensitive to heat, check this explicitly when booking accommodations for a summer trip. And even if your hotel does have AC, realize that it may not be as robust as you’re used to back home. If your room is stuffy, ask to borrow a fan as soon as you check in (most hotels don’t have an unlimited supply). It’s easier to keep a room from getting hot to begin with, than it is to cool it off once it’s steamy. So draw the blinds during the hottest part of the day and carefully gauge when the time’s right to open that window. Pack earplugs and an eye mask, to avoid being awoken by late-night noise or early-morning daybreak through the open window.

Traveling during a heat wave, I observed various ways travelers (and locals) dealt with the heat. In Vienna, they’ve installed bottle-filling stations around the city.

Normally I love taking public transit. But one sweltering afternoon, upon choosing between a 30-minute ride on a (not-well-ventilated) tram or a 10-minute zip across town in an air-conditioned Uber, I decided to splurge… and that €8 was worth every cent to get a break both from standing and from the heat.

Extreme heat can, unfortunately, affect your enjoyment of a trip… and even shape your sightseeing. On a 75-degree day, I would have loved going for a stroll through the gardens behind Schönbrunn Palace, or hiking out to the salt-harvesting museum across the parched salt flats outside of Piran, Slovenia. But on a 95-degree day, I decided that both activities would likely turn out to be regrettable.

I crossed paths with several Rick Steves’ Europe tour guides who’d taken groups around Europe in these sweltering conditions. Comparing notes, they reported that everyone tried to be a good sport (in accordance with our “No Grumps” policy)… but, understandably, the oppressive heat made their travelers a little less perky than usual.

After a weeklong tour in Paris (where the Louvre and Versailles are not effectively air-conditioned, and the Eiffel Tower even closed briefly to protect employees who had no place to hide from the direct sunlight), a guide polled their group about their favorite experience. The unanimous answer: The Orsay! The guide asked: Was it because of the train-station architecture? The works by Renoir, Van Gogh, and Monet? The lesson in how art evolved from the staid styles of 19th century to the unbridled creativity of Modernism? “Nope. Because it was air-conditioned!”

This honest priority contains a kernel of traveler’s wisdom: Sometimes, when it’s very hot out, dipping into a cool sight — regardless of how you feel about the subject matter — can be a much-needed break. I’ve seen Vienna’s Kaisergruft (with the tombs of Habsburg royals) many times before. But, as it’s a crypt deep underground with a constant, cool temperature, I decided it was worth seeing again on a 95-degree morning. A few minutes of walking among tombs of Josefs, Marias, and Leopolds put the spring back in my step to face the heat again.

As I moved higher into the mountains — Italy’s Dolomites — temperatures cooled off just enough. The hotels in this middle part of my trip didn’t have air-conditioning… and, thankfully, didn’t need it. An open window, a fan, a cool night, and an occasional afternoon cloudburst were enough to keep things manageable. This helped me understand the trendiness of “cool-cations”: traveling to cold places in hot seasons. (While this strategy still comes with some risk in the Alps — as I learned in Berchtesgaden — it’s somewhat more reliable in cooler places like Scandinavia or Iceland.)

One challenge was restaurants. On a 90-degree evening in Innsbruck or Bolzano or Verona, you quickly discover that vanishingly few eateries — especially traditional ones crammed in stuffy cellars or pubby dining halls with dark-wood paneling — are air-conditioned. One hot evening, I tried every which way to scour the internet for a restaurant that would be air-conditioned — and discovered, even in our age of AI-assisted Google search, that basic information is elusive. A couple of times, I found myself going on an AC scavenger hunt: popping my head in place after place after place, just to see if it was anything less than a Turkish steam bath inside, before finally (on about my tenth attempt) finding a restaurant that was acceptable.

So perhaps the best advice for “beating the heat”? Do your best, but if you can’t beat ’em… join ’em. Dining among Europeans in a fantastic (but 90-degree) traditional restaurant, you quickly learn how to ignore the trickle of sweat down the back of your neck and focus on the great food. And you find yourself daydreaming about your next trip… in November or March.

Overtourism… and Undertourism

While “overtourism” continues to grab headlines, on my travels this year I was reminded that this issue is complex and nuanced. Just like with EES chaos, scrolling your social media feed provides a narrow and grossly exaggerated sense of the situation. Yes, a handful of very famous places are struggling with too many crowds. But in many lesser-known places, locals are concerned about a different trend: tourism is down, not up.

With all the economic and geopolitical uncertainty, some would-be travelers are staying home. In various places, from Greek beach towns to alpine villages, hoteliers told me that — while they were filled to capacity just a couple of years ago, during the post-pandemic boom — today they’re seeing more vacancies than ever. Even traveling in peak season, I was routinely surprised by how uncrowded many locations were.

That said, a few select places were absolutely jammed. Increasingly, it’s clear to me that the vast majority of travelers are insisting on going to a very short list of the same places they’ve all seen on social media… while other places, just as good but lacking that algorithmic juice, are empty.

Take Italy’s Dolomites. A quick scroll through social media might leave you thinking that this entire mountain range is overflowing and unpleasant. Frankly, I was nervous about being there in the peak of summer. But I found that’s only part of the story.

Seceda, a stunning ridgeline in the Dolomites, has become an Instagram and TikTok darling. The cable car to this viewpoint has drastically increased in price, and for the first time in 2026, they strongly recommend reserving your lift ticket in advance. Riding up to the summit (in a claustrophobic cable car), I found a mob scene of slow-moving tourists clogging up the narrow trails, trying (or, more accurately, not trying) to get out of each other’s way to take photos.

A local farmer who happens to own some of this land has set up a greedy “tollbooth” where you can tap your credit card to pay €5 for the privilege of walking a few hundred yards along a trail that was free and open to all just two years ago.

Partway along this path, would-be influencers from around the globe stood in a long line, waiting their turn to re-create the exact same photo they’d seen on their social feeds… even though an identical view was available just 50 yards in either direction. On this morning, that overpriced mountaintop experience was every bit as “overtouristed” as the Louvre, the Sistine Chapel, or the Alhambra.

And yet, soon enough I was able to escape those crowds and go on a two-hour hike, looping down the steep slope past the dramatic Pieralongia rocks, meandering through meadows surrounded by split-log fences and cut-glass peaks, sharing a ridge with mooing, cud-chewing, fly-swatting cows, and even discovering a tiny bud of trailside Edelweiss. Just like all of Europe’s most crowded destinations, all it took was to venture just a little bit off the well-trod tourist trail to have an absolutely delightful, authentic, and uncrowded experience.

Not to mention: Literally within sight of Seceda is Seiser Alm (a.k.a. Alpe di Siusi), which we’ve been crowing about for decades in our Rick Steves guidebooks. The lifts up to Seiser Alm cost less than half what Seceda charges; there are far more trails to choose from; and those trails are far less crowded… even on a sunny July weekend. To find an “undertouristed” corner of the “overtouristed” Dolomites, you only need to swivel your head… or check our Rick Steves guidebook, with hard-earned, road-tested advice that’s never “trending”; it’s just timeless yet lovingly updated.

So, that’s the challenge of “overtourism”: There are more tourists than ever before inundating a list of destinations that’s shorter than ever before. Meanwhile, underappreciated gems and quiet back streets abound, often very close at hand and entirely overlooked by the copycat hordes. All you have to do is ignore what you saw on Instagram… and go looking for your own discoveries.

This contrast between overtourism and undertourism especially struck me in my favorite country, Slovenia, where I wrapped up my trip. Lovely Lake Bled, where I’ve enjoyed traveling for 25 years, is a rare Slovenian destination that’s on the trendy tourist trail. I’d never been there in mid-July… and, just as my local friends had warned me, it’s uncomfortably busy during that summer peak.

And yet, almost the entirety of the rest of Slovenia remains undiscovered and underappreciated. Why do I love Slovenia so much? One reason (of many) is because it offers less crowded, less expensive, and more friendly alternatives to many Europe’s marquee sights.

Instead of Salzburg, you can stroll the lanes of Ljubljana, Europe’s most livable capital.

Instead of Croatia’s Rovinj, you can hang out in Piran — with many of the same seaside features, and a fraction of the crowds and prices.

Instead of the Dolomites’ Seceda or Switzerland’s Lauterbrunnen Valley, you can ride a lift up to Velika Planina, a mountaintop meadow with hobbit-like shepherd huts, herds of lazy cows, 360 degrees of breathtaking alpine views… and, yes, Edelweiss.

These “undertouristed” alternatives to the poster children of “overtourism” abound, all across Europe. You just have to break free of the Intagram/TikTok herd mentality… and find them.

Even with its many challenges — from new red tape to extreme weather to “overtourism” and “undertourism” worries — Europe remains every bit as enjoyable in 2026 as ever. The best advice never changes. And, as Rick has always says, smart travelers who equip themselves with good information, adopt a positive and flexible attitude, and expect to travel smart, can do just that.

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To hear more about my 2026 travels, join me on August 17 for a “trip report” on Monday Night Travel — it’s free on Zoom… just sign up.

For more fresh-from-the-rucksack tips like these, check out our Travel Updates & Insights blog.

And for the best, most up-to-date advice on traveling in Europe — whether it’s strategies for minimizing crowds in popular places, or finding less-crowded alternatives — the best tool, same as ever, is a Rick Steves guidebook. New editions are arriving all the time; for example, our brand-new Spain book, which I helped update last year, just hit bookshelves.

If you’d like to (virtually) join me on my next trip — September in Croatia, Bosnia-Herzegovina, and Italy’s Puglia — be sure to follow me on Facebook and Instagram. I promise to continue sharing “bad content” that’s full of good advice… rather than misleading clickbait.