Destination: Discoveries

Looking for something a little different in 2024?

Each year around this time, I brainstorm a list of my favorite European Discoveries. And after another very busy year of traveling to update guidebooks and make TV shows — in Ireland, Norway, Iceland, Hungary, and Poland — as usual, the places that stand out most vividly are not the big, marquee sights; they’re the lesser-known places, with fewer crowds and a more authentic vibe. (You could say they have a high charm-to-tourists ratio.)

As always, I’m not suggesting these are any “better” than the biggies. If you’re tight on time, I won’t blame you for visiting Kraków rather than Warsaw, or Dingle rather than Derry. Rather, when planning your 2024 travels, think of these as intriguing palate-cleansers.

Think about it: When you look back on past trips, aren’t many of your fondest memories of places where you least expected them? Feel free to share your own Discoveries in the Comments.

Lausanne and Lake Geneva, Switzerland

If a big part of Switzerland’s appeal is its cultural and linguistic diversity, then Lausanne is one of its most rewarding cities. This genteel-feeling city speaks, and feels, French…but with a Swiss accent.

From the vineyard-draped shores of Lake Geneva, the city climbs vertically up the slopes; elevators, a funicular-like métro, and steeply uphill hikes are required simply to traverse a few blocks. Updating our guidebook, I went looking for a hotel just up the block…and quickly learned that it was “up” indeed. It felt like climbing a mountain.

But Lausanne is worth the effort. Visitors enjoy Swiss-French fusion meals in classy brasseries; a historic old quarter oozing with endearing medieval details; a hazy waterfront promenade leading to an excellent Olympics museum; and one of Europe’s most compelling, thought-provoking museums: the Collection de l’Art Brut, which showcases poignant works created by artists marginalized by society, often dismissed or even institutionalized as “insane.”

Lausanne is also a prime jumping-off-point for Lake Geneva sightseeing. A quick train ride or ridiculously scenic boat ride (preferably on a historic paddleboat steamer) takes you to Château de Chillon, a stony fortress jabbing out into the lake.

You can also hike or bike through lakefront vineyards; stop off in Montreux for its stylish waterfront; or take a scenic side-trip (on the “Chocolate Train”) up to the lovely cheesemaking village of Gruyères and a Swiss chocolate factory.

Lausanne and Lake Geneva is one of those places that might not “make the cut” on a tight itinerary. But if you go…you’ll want to give it plenty of time.

Derry, Northern Ireland

On my six-week odyssey to update our Ireland guidebook — scouring the island from tip to toe — something about Derry grabbed me. It has a hard-fought history, both old and recent. Its stout city walls — now enjoyable for a stroll — hint at centuries-ago sieges. And the emotionally charged murals of the Bogside neighborhood testify to the city’s pivotal role in the Troubles, Northern Ireland’s sectarian strife that grabbed headlines from the 1960s through the 1990s.

But I also found Derry unexpectedly delightful, history aside. The sitcom Derry Girls — which tells the story of local teenagers and their parents during the final years of the Troubles — has become a global hit on Netflix. Locals embrace the show, which captures the world-weary wit that the people of Derry have learned to apply to the highs and lows of life. And, as an outside observer, it seemed to me that Derry Girls is also helping this plucky city turn the page from a hard history to a brighter future: In a sign of the times, the new Derry Girls mural — rather than the important but tragedy-tinged murals of the Bogside — has become the city’s most-photographed.

I sensed a new day in Derry. On a sunny summer afternoon, the Peace Bridge linking the Nationalist and Unionist sides of the river was jammed with people. Across that bridge, the former British military barracks is being converted into a new entertainment and commercial complex, with a big hotel and fine gastro-brewpub, and a state-of-the-art city museum slated to open in a few years.

Not to mention, Derry is a prime home base for side-tripping (in less than an hour) to the Antrim Coast, with Old Bushmills Distillery, Carrick-a-Rede rope bridge, and the breathtaking Giant’s Causeway. As Derry Girl Michelle put it: “Foreigners f—kin’ love the Giant’s Causeway!”

Warsaw, Poland

The sprawling Polish capital often gets overlooked by travelers. Kraków is more historic and accessible. Gdańsk is more beautiful. (Shhh…don’t tell Krakow!) And Toruń is more charming.

But ever so slowly, over 20 years of visits, I’ve watched Warsaw transform from a gloomy, battle-battered, postcommunist eyesore into a place that’s fascinating, engaging, and — yes, really! — actually fun.

When we filmed new public television episodes in Poland this summer, the crew was impressed by today’s Warsaw. It has state-of-the-art museums covering everything from Jewish heritage to Marie Curie, and from Polish history to hands-on science exhibits for kids. It’s a capital of culture and music: We filmed two entirely different Chopin concerts, one in a sprawling park and the other in a cozy drawing room, and couldn’t decide which we liked better. It has an outstanding food scene, including one of the best meals our crew says they’ve ever filmed (at Bibenda). It has a thrilling variety of architecture from every era: rebuilt medieval townhomes; imposing communist concrete; graceful Baroque churches; slick, sleek skyscrapers. And it has a history as epic as anyplace in Europe.

Most of all, Warsaw is simply enjoyable. On a balmy Friday night, we did a loop through the city’s up-and-coming entertainment districts. We began at a “post-industrial” entertainment complex (which are all the rage across Poland) — a former brick power plant now refurbished with trendy eateries, bars, and shops.

Outside along their inviting riverfront park, Varsovians from every walk of life were having the time of their lives: promenading along the Vistula; filling giant cocktail-party barges; splashing in playful fountains; relaxing and socializing on park benches. And we enjoyed the heck out of Warsaw, right along with them.

Porto, Portugal

Portugal’s second city is actually several cities in one — and all of them are delightful.

Down along the banks of the Douro River, under the soaring girders of oversized bridges, the colorfully seedy Ribeira district faces a row of port-wine lodges.

From there, stair-like lanes twist steeply up to the modern city center, a mix of drab urban streets and pockets of architectural refinement: Pretty churches with spiraling stone towers, clad in finely handpainted blue tiles. The Lello & Irmão Bookstore, with its twisting wood-grain fantasyland of literature. The soaring Clérigos tower, reaching up to heaven between rattling trolleys. São Bento Train Station, with more of those gorgeous blue tiles. The Palácio da Bolsa, a former stock exchange palace that maxes out on neo-historical styles. And, yes, even one of the finest McDonalds on the planet.

And maybe the most impressive bit of engineering you’ll find in Porto is its famous sandwich, the francesinha: pork cutlets, sliced sausages, and Swiss cheese wedged between two slices of dense bread, then grilled and smothered with more melted cheese, a fried egg, and spicy sauce. This delicious gut-bomb (you won’t need to eat for a week) is just one example of Porto’s outstanding food scene, ranging from memorable splurges to rustic market stalls.

While it may lack the cachet and grandeur of Lisbon, Porto is every bit as enjoyable…and maybe more so.

Fjordside Villages of Iceland and Norway

One of my personal travel themes in 2023 was dropping in on a wide variety of tiny towns on giant fjords, all over both Iceland and Norway.

Looping around Iceland’s Ring Road — the 800-mile ultimate road trip that circles the perimeter of the island — three favorite villages stand out:  Húsavík, with its colorful harbor and whale-watching boats; Siglufjörður, an important herring fishery a century ago, which loves to tell the story of the “Herring Girls” in its exceptional museum; and Seyðisfjörður, with a hip, funky, and artistic vibe in a remote and dramatic setting — about as far as you get from Reykjavík while still being in Iceland.

A few weeks later, in Norway, I settled in to a couple more fjordside hamlets. Balestrand, conveniently located along the express boat route between Bergen and Flåm, commands a grand view over the mighty Sognefjord. Its harborfront grand hotel (with its elaborate smorgasbord dinner) and charming Ciderhuset cidery (offering tours, tastings, and pairings with delicious Turkish-accented fare) provided two of my favorite meals of the year. Deeper in the fjord is my favorite fjordside village of all: Tidy, tranquil Solvorn, a cozy burg with historic landmark hotel (Norway’s oldest), multicolored wooden boat sheds lining the shore, and a ferry that putters across the fjord once an hour to one of Norway’s finest stave churches.

Iceland and Norway are both best for their natural wonders. And, frankly, many settlements (especially in Iceland) are more functional than charming. But these five towns tempt the just-passing-through traveler to downshift…settle in…and enjoy.

Siracusa and Noto, Sicily

A year ago, the second season of HBO’s The White Lotus put Sicily on many travelers’ wish lists. After doing  a guidebook-research road trip around the country a few years back, I really enjoyed seeing many of those places pop up on the show.

The White Lotus was set in the mega-touristy, off-puttingly upscale tourist town of Taormina. Personally, despite its grand location facing Mount Etna, Taormina left me cold. The place that really sticks out is a couple hours’ drive south: Siracusa, the modern city at the site of ancient Syracuse.

Siracusa feels less “discovered” than many Sicilian towns. I could do endless laps around its old town, the islet of Ortigia, which evokes both the ancient days of Archimedes and the lavish blossoming of Baroque. Ortigia has some of the finest squares and prettiest churches in Sicily. And if you need more substantial sightseeing, you can tour the archaeological museums and ancient sites farther inland. Or just take a dip at the rocky beach.

And while you’re in the area, make time for a day-trip to Noto, tucked in the countryside less than an hour’s drive to the southwest. Among Sicilians, Noto is known for two things: its lavish Baroque architecture and its top-quality gelato shops. If I’m being honest, I’m not sure which I enjoyed more.

Antwerp, Belgium

On Belgian itineraries, Antwerp gets overlooked. Maybe that’s understandable. Bruges is cute, cobbled, and canaled. Brussels is the bustling capital, with the very grand-indeed Grand Place. Ghent mixes charm with urbanity, and boasts an exquisite Van Eyck altarpiece.

Antwerp — lonely Antwerp! — plays fourth fiddle. But those who visit Belgium’s second-biggest city find it to be engaging and rewarding, if lovably gritty.

On arrival, you find yourself standing in one of Europe’s most impressive train stations — a temple to travel that rivals any in Europe.

From there, a grand city spreads out before you. Famous for its funky design heritage and its Art Nouveau architecture, as well as for its diamond industry, Antwerp itself is something of a diamond in the rough. But increasingly, it’s being polished to a high shine. On my last visit, I stepped into the stunning Handelsbeurs — the former stock exchange, with Neo-Gothic flourishes, that evokes the city’s glory days as a trading power.

On Antwerp’s picturesque main market square — as pleasant as any in the Low Countries — I found plenty of good eateries. But, on a mission to update our Belgium guidebook, I scouted even better ones tucked into characteristic neighborhoods all over the city, especially in t’Zuid, a quick tram ride to the south. There I found, among other great places, Elsie’s — a great opportunity to sample Ethiopian and Etrurian cuisine in this multiethnic city.

Antwerp is that kind of city: One that rewards exploration and curiosity. It makes you work a bit to unearth those gems…but it’s worth the effort.

Dublin’s Stoneybatter Neighborhood, Ireland

I’m always on the lookout for fun and funky neighborhoods in great European cities. And while updating our guidebook in Dublin this summer, several leads led me to Stoneybatter.

This low-key neighborhood is effectively one street at the edge of the city center (a longish walk or quick bus, tram, or taxi ride from downtown). Stoneybatter’s main drag is lined with narrow storefronts, colorful cottages, indie bookstores and boutiques, lively street art, more than its share of stay-awhile cafés, a variety of global food eateries, and some fine dining options.

I ate very well at Grano, an Italian-owned trattoria with a short but tempting menu of authentic choices — the kind of place where, I imagine, each and every dish would be delicious. But walking to and from dinner, I kept wishing I had more time to eat at a half-dozen other places.

Part of Stoneybatter’s charm is its tucked-away-ness. It’s a short walk from the big, slick Smithfield Square, with its giant distillery, industrial-strength youth hostel, and lineup of predictable chain eateries. From there, you can walk just a few minutes northwest, passing The Cobblestone — Dublin’s most respected pub for live traditional music. Stoneybatter, just around the corner feels quirky, locally owned, and fun to explore. It’s the kind of place where I could happily imagine settling in for a week or two at a cozy Airbnb, sampling a different trendy brunch spot each morning.

Slovenia

If you know me at all, you can be sure Slovenia will wind up on any “Best of” list I write. This year, I mulled over which part of Slovenia merits a “Discoveries” mention for 2024:

The beautiful, charming, user-friendly capital, Ljubljana, with its stay-a-while ambience and outstanding food scene?

Dreamy Lake Bled, with its castle-capped cliff and church-crowned island? Or maybe head higher into the mountains — to the stunning Julian Alps, with some of the most breathtaking cut-glass peaks in Europe?

Perhaps head to the seaside, specifically the charming port town of Piran, with its sleek, marbled square, atmospheric back lanes, delectable seafood restaurants, and all of the charm of small Croatian coastal towns, but tidier and friendlier?

Or maybe we should do a little spelunking? When choosing between some of the most spectacular karstic caves on the planet, should we opt for the hauntingly grand caverns of the Škocjan Caves, or the more accessible formations of nearby Postojna?

Or does heading off the beaten path appeal? Should we explore the outstanding wineries of Goriška Brda, sharing a border with Italy’s famous Friuli wine region, or the arid limestone beauty of the Vípava Valley?

Heading to Europe at Mardi Gras time? Might I suggest paying a visit to Ptuj, with its unforgettable Kurentovanje costumed-beasts processions?

Or — hey, wait a minute! — why not…all of it?

Wherever You’ve Been Dreaming of Going

One of the lasting lessons of the pandemic is a new awareness that we can’t take anything for granted. Time may be shorter than you think. That’s why a popular theme has been “revenge travel” — finally getting to those items you’ve always dreamed of.

Maybe you’ve wished you could hike the Tour de Mont Blanc, around Europe’s tallest mountain. That was on Rick’s list — and it was one of his first trips back after COVID.

In my case, I can think of several boxes I’ve ticked recently. This past June, I realized a lifelong dream of being in Dublin to celebrate Bloomsday — a celebration of James Joyce’s Ulysses. On the date that Joyce’s masterpiece novel is set, his hometown’s streets are full of lit nerds wearing straw boater hats and Edwardian costumes, reading passages from Ulysses, and greeting each other with, “Heigho! Happy Bloomsday!” Totally worth it.

Other items on my lifelong wish list I’ve recently ticked: Exploring some new parts of Italy, from the fascinating, multicultural, coastal city of Trieste; to the culinary heartland of Emilia-Romagna; to the wine and food mecca of Piedmont.

Or ascending Lovćen, a mountaintop mausoleum overlooking virtually the entire country of Montenegro, and hiking up countless steps to a dramatic monument carved by the great sculptor Ivan Meštrović.

Some of these may seem a little obscure…because they are! I’m certainly not advising you to visit Dublin on Bloomsday, or to sample every stuffed pasta in Modena or Parma, or to huff up to the summit of Lovćen. I doubt you’d enjoy those as much as I would. (Well, maybe the pasta.) But I’m sure you have something on your personal wish list that you’d enjoy just as much I loved those experiences.

So…get to it! You have about 365 days to make it happen in 2024.

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Be sure to share your own Discoveries in the Comments!

You can also look back at my Discoveries from 2023, 2021, 2020, 2019, and 2018…all still great choices.

If you’d like to follow along with me on my 2024 travels, be sure to follow me on Facebook and on Instagram.

And consider checking out my travel memoir, The Temporary European: Lessons and Confessions from a Professional Traveler.

In 2022, as travel resumed, I made it back to lots of famous places: London, Rome, Amsterdam, Dubrovnik. The Matterhorn, the Scottish Highlands, the hill towns of Tuscany. But, as usual, many of my favorite experiences came in lesser-known corners of Europe — underappreciated places that exceed expectations when it comes to creating beautiful memories.

As a refresher: My annual “Discoveries” list is one traveler’s arbitrary rundown of places I’ve been to recently (mainly in 2022) that may not already appear on many itineraries. These are just ten of the hundreds of such places, all over Europe — meant not as any sort of definitive “best of” list, but simply to inspire you to go beyond the Londons, Parises, and Romes when planning your 2023 travels. In fact, I’d love it if you shared your own favorite finds in the comments.

And if you’d like to see previous years’ lists, here are the Discoveries for 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 — all still great choices. (I skipped the Discoveries in 2022…not wanting to jinx what, a year ago, felt like a tenuous time to travel.)

Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina

Imagine a bustling city in a stunning setting — tucked in the deep valley of a gurgling river, surrounded by green hills. It has a dynamic history as a crossroads of civilizations, where you can visit a Catholic church, an Eastern Orthodox church, a mosque, and a synagogue, all within a couple of blocks. One part of town feels like a Turkish bazaar, with riverstone cobbles underfoot, the sound of tapping coppersmith hammers, the smell of sweet hookah smoke, and the haze of grilling meat hanging heavy in the air. And then, just a few steps away, you enter a tidy Habsburg street plan with proud turn-of-the-century architecture, parks, and boulevards.

This city also has a delicious culinary tradition of delectably seasoned meats, decadently spreadable cheeses, and crispy savory pastries cooked under a metal baking lid covered with hot coals…not to mention unfiltered coffee and honey-soaked treats (think baklava). Oh, and the locals are incredibly welcoming, easygoing, and quick to befriend visitors, and they have fascinating life stories to share.

Now imagine that this place has next to no American tourists.

This is not a fantasy; it’s Sarajevo. With each return visit, I simply can’t fathom why so few travelers have discovered what may well be the most underrated capital city in Europe.

Returning this fall, I discovered a new hole-in-the-wall shop on the main drag that specializes in just one perfect dish: First, they pull a puffy lepinje flatbread pocket straight out of the oven. Then they slather it with the soft cheese kajmak, which begins to melt and fill in all the little grooves. You can pay a bit extra to stuff it with flavorful smoked beef…a delicious mobile feast. Walking down the street, munching one of my favorite meals of the trip (if not the year), it occurred to me that, on top of everything else, Sarajevo might be one of the best “street foodie” destinations in Europe.

Sarajevo has a new fancy hotel downtown, and it recently opened a cable car that trundles visitors to the mountaintop high above town for sweeping views. Those are nice upgrades, but they’re just gilding the lily of what’s already one of travel’s great cities. Someday Sarajevo will start to get the attention it deserves. But in the meantime, it’s cheap, uncrowded, and endlessly rewarding.

Richmond, London, England

During the dark days of the pandemic, like a lot of people, I took solace in binge-watching TV. One of the shows I found most uplifting was Ted Lasso, the story of an insistently upbeat American football coach transplanted to the UK to manage a soccer squad. Richmond may not be a real team, but it absolutely is a real place — a sleepy bedroom community just outside London. And on a sunny weekend in February, I went to Richmond on a lark, just to see if I recognized anything from the show. Sure enough, I found myself standing on that adorable, perfectly British square, with a pair of red telephone boxes; a classic half-timbered pub with sturdy picnic tables out front; narrow, shop-lined alleys leading every which way; and facing an expansive green packed with people out for a stroll. During the pandemic, when I closed my eyes and dreamt of being back in Britain…this was the place I imagined.

It was a small thrill to find the door to “Ted’s apartment,” and to step into his local pub. But if I’m being honest, I quickly forgot all about that fictional world…and enjoyed exploring the real one. One of my all-time favorite moments of 2022 was simply sitting on a bench at Richmond Green, watching dogs chase tennis balls.

For me, Richmond illustrates two things: First, Britain has hundreds of charming little communities that are worth poking around for an hour or two. This one just happens to star on a TV show. And second, I just love it when I go someplace for some random reason — in this case, because I saw it onscreen — and wind up loving it for its own sake. So on your next trip, make a point to find “your” Richmond… whether or not it’s actually Richmond.

Upper Engadine and Nearby Scenic Rail Lines, Switzerland

To be clear: I’m not saying that the Upper Engadine is somehow better than, say, the Berner Oberland, or Zermatt and the Matterhorn. But this remote, rugged corner of Graubünden, in the southeast corner of Switzerland, was perhaps the biggest (and nicest) surprise of my late-summer guidebook research trip. The most famous place here is the glitzy, soulless, skippable resort of St. Moritz. Instead, stay in nearby Pontresina and have a grand ol’ time riding lifts to lofty panoramic perches (Piz Nair, Muottas Muragl, Alp Languard) and exploring stony traditional villages (like Samedan).

The Upper Engadine’s other claim to fame is its position at the intersection of two world-famous scenic rail journeys, the Glacier Express and the Bernina Express. I did both of those trips, too. And if I’m being honest, eight-plus hours — even a super-scenic train — is a lot. Here’s a pro tip: Based in Pontresina, you could do only the very best bits of both journeys, a couple of hours in each direction, then come right back home. This efficient approach lets you conquer two of the most astonishing high-alpine rail lines in the world, each a feat of late-19th-century engineering: the Bernina Pass (to the south, toward Italy) or the Albula Pass (north, toward Chur). With stone bridges that soar hundreds of feet above yawning valleys, ingenious circular viaducts that loop 360 degrees to dispense with the need for cogwheels, and peek-a-boo views of snowcapped, 14,000-foot peaks and receding glaciers, Pontresina gives you easy access to what may be the most stunning train trips in Europe, mile per mile.

As a bonus, for those on a tight budget, most Upper Engadine accommodations provide a sightseeing card that covers all local transport — including those thrilling (but pricey) mountain lifts. This basically doubles the value of what you pay for your lodgings (but make sure they include it before you book). Maybe this is yet another reason why most of my fellow hikers were active Swiss retirees rather than the Insta-glam jet set.

The Jordaan, Amsterdam, The Netherlands

In the middle of an intense, seven-week trip of tour guiding and guidebook research, I had a three-day weekend to relax and recover. The place I chose was Amsterdam — and specifically, the Jordaan, a residential neighborhood of tidy grid-planned blocks, traditional skinny houses, funky shops, and local restaurants. I found the perfect apartment, in the attic of a family home — with crooked, creaking funhouse floors and dramatically angled rafters. To reach my room, I had to climb two staircases so steep they were practically ladders. And when I opened the window and saw a pair of bikes brrrring-brrrring-ing past on the idyllic street scene below, I knew I’d found the perfect getaway.

One morning, I woke up to discover an utterly delightful weekend street market (two of them, actually) sprawling through the lanes and squares near my apartment. Another time I rode a tram to Vondelpark and rented a bike to pedal with the Amsterdammers in a lush, green oasis. On several occasions, I window-shopped the delightful nearby restaurant streets (with the even-more-delightful names Eerste Anjeliersdwarsstraat and Tweede Anjeliersdwarsstraat) and took my pick from the incredible variety of places to eat.

One thing I did not do, a single time, on this visit to Amsterdam? Complain about the touristy crowds. Because the Jordaan let me avoid them entirely.

Trieste, Italy

The Italian port city of Trieste has an identity crisis like no place else. Today it’s part of Italy — but just barely, connected by an umbilical cord of land just wide enough for a railroad and a highway. It’s almost entirely surrounded by Slovenia, whose parched karstic cliffs rise up like a stone curtain just behind the city. Complicating matters, most of today’s Trieste was built not by Italians or Slovenes, but by Austrians and Hungarians, who transformed this humble settlement into their primary trade port and shipbuilding center…with grandiose buildings that would feel more at home on Vienna’s Ringstrasse or Budapest’s Andrássy út, rather than a few steps from Adriatic embankments. This is the kind of place where you need a conspiracy-type diagram, with red yarn crisscrossing thumbtacked photos and maps, just to figure out who controlled it, and who lived here, and when, and why.

And yet, all of that complexity melts away when you actually set foot here. Trieste is hard to characterize, but the main thing is that it’s simply lovely: a grand, imperial-feeling city with a sunny seafront embankment, shot through with faded elegance (from fin-de-siècle coffee houses to aristocratic villas), and with more than its share of fascinating history. Choosing between Austrian pork cutlets, Italian pastas, and Slovenian jota (turnip stew) and potica nut-roll cakes on the same menu, you know you’re at a nexus of history. As someone with a passion for Habsburg history, for Slovenia, and for Italy, I knew I’d find Trieste interesting. But I wasn’t prepared to enjoy it as much as I did.

Side-note: I’m not entirely sure whether I went to Trieste because I read Jan Morris’ riveting Trieste and the Meaning of Nowhere, or if I read her book because I was going to Trieste — but either way, it reminded me how “bringing along” a great author or historian with you, on any trip, immeasurably deepens your appreciation of a place. And Trieste is a twofer, since James Joyce lived here while writing most of Ulysses (as documented in a lovable local museum). This is fitting, when you consider how a cacophony of languages and cultures fills the streets of Trieste — just like in the pages of that masterpiece.

Glasgow, Scotland

Every time I go back to Glasgow, I like it even better. And this summer, I had plenty of time to think about why…when I got stuck there for several extra days after contracting COVID. But actually, I can think of few better places to just sit around and recover.

I owe this — and my general good feelings about the city — to the Glaswegians. They’re kind and generally good-natured, but also wicked-smart and fiendishly funny. They have a penchant for knocking important city leaders down a peg by crowning their statues with orange traffic cones. The city has some of the most beautiful, most wildly creative, most satirically incisive street art I’ve seen anywhere.

As an indication of how endearingly salt-of-the-earth Glasgow is, its single best museum (in a city with lots of great ones) may just be the old tenement house whose resident moved out in 1975 after not having changed a thing in five decades — and they’ve left it perfectly preserved to this day, a fascinating time warp of midcentury, middle-class lifestyles.

Sure, the city center lacks the Old World romance of Edinburgh. (It reminds me of Cincinnati or Indianapolis, with fewer high-rises, more interesting architecture, and an infinitely more entertaining accent.) But I’m drawn to the West End, the posh yet hip residential district that’s a short bus, subway, or taxi ride away. Surrounding the U. of Glasgow campus are green parklands, lively traditional music pubs, and cozy streets lined with endlessly browsable restaurants and shops. On this visit, stepping off the subway, I bumped into a fascinating mural celebrating the many different people who call this corner of Scotland home. Mesmerized, I couldn’t pull myself away for about 15 minutes.

The next time I wind up getting stuck in Europe…I hope it’s in a place as nice, and as engaging, as Glasgow.

Pelješac Wine Country, Dalmatian Coast, Croatia

The Pelješac (PELL-yeh-shawts) Peninsula is a long, skinny spit of land poking out into the Adriatic Sea just north of Dubrovnik, on Croatia’s Dalmatian Coast. It’s always been an off-the-beaten-path destination for wine lovers who’ve done their homework. But in 2022, Pelješac came closer to the mainstream overnight, when they finally opened a brand-new bridge that routes most traffic right along its base.

In October, I spent a fun and fascinating day with a local wine expert (Sasha Lušić, who runs the D’Vino Wine Bar in Dubrovnik) to get my guidebook coverage up to snuff for the coming onslaught of visitors. We visited Ston to ogle its beefy fortifications and vast salt pans; we pulled over along a sleepy bay to slurp fresh oysters, pulled straight from the Adriatic, and washed down with a local sparkling white wine; and, best of all, we dropped in on a half-dozen different wineries, lovingly handpicked by Sasha.

I was especially charmed by Anto Grgurević, who holds advanced degrees in viniculture. Anto is determined to combine academic research with hands-on sweat equity to advance the art of Croatian winemaking. He has reintroduced some classic traditional vines — once used extensively here, but long since forgotten — even as he experiments with doing old things in new ways. (He’s the first in the region to make an amber wine, using a naturally occurring “albino” grape.)

After our tasting, Anto said “Follow me,” hopped in his car, and drove us deep into the peninsula’s interior to his family’s vineyard. Donning a comically large sombrero to shield himself from the glaring sun (good for the grapes, less so for the eyes), he walked us through the vines, pointing out the different types of grapes here and there, each matched perfectly to the precise microclimate of that patch of land.

Looking out over the hillsides where his ancestors toiled, Anto grew philosophical. “I’ve only got about 25 vintages in my life,” he said. “That really only gives me a few years to experiment and figure out how to make the best possible wine. Then I’ll spend the rest of my life cranking it out.”

Then he said, with a wink: “The best vines, you plant for your kids and your grandkids.”

Oh, and the wines? The wines are sensational.

Toruń, Poland

This gorgeous, red-brick town — cute as a fairy tale, and famous for its gingerbread and for native son Nicholas Copernicus — has always been a personal favorite. But I’ve always suspected my affinity for Toruń was somehow idiosyncratic, because I almost never see (non-Polish) travelers here.

Then, this May, I headed up a team of Polish guides to lead the first-ever departure of our new Rick Steves Best of Poland tour…and I’ll be darned if every single person in our group didn’t utterly fall in love with Toruń, too. The next morning, as we were pulling out from our one-night stay, there was practically a mutiny on the bus to call off the rest of our itinerary and just stick around Toruń.

Toruń has no world-class sights. There aren’t many, if any, museums or churches worth entering. But I’ve rarely been to a place that’s more delightfully strollable. It has cozy red-brick buildings, grand interlocking squares, broad traffic-free promenades, stately churches with prickly spires…and the whole city smells like gingerbread.

After our hands-on gingerbread-making demonstration, we oriented our group for their free evening. Our best advice: “Just walk down this street until you run out of pretty things to look at. Then come back.” A couple of hours later, I followed my own advice and went for a twilight stroll. Reaching the far end of the Old Town, I heard a raucous echo through an otherwise empty square…and followed that noise to an outdoor restaurant where about half of our tour group was having their favorite meal of the trip.

And that’s the kind of place Toruń is: Not much to see. Not much to do. But a wonderful place to simply be.

Modena and Emilia-Romagna, Italy

Italian food is, of course, delicious. But what if I told you there was a place in Italy that Italians — from the scalps of the Alps to the toe of the “boot” — unanimously agree has the best food anywhere?

Back in 2021, I spent much of the year putting together an ambitious project: a brand-new, full-color, region-by-region handbook to Italian cuisine called Rick Steves Italy for Food Lovers (which just hit bookshelves everywhere). One of the hazards of that project was that our co-author, renowned Italian food expert Fred Plotkin, makes foodies like me desperately want to visit every corner of Italy.

In particular, I got caught up in Fred’s enthusiasm for the region of Emilia-Romagna. This is where you find some of the most quintessentially delicious Italian foods: luxurious pastas, especially filled ones; some of Italy’s top salumi, from mortadella to prosciutto di Parma; and, of course aceto balsamico tradizionale and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese — don’t you dare call them “balsamic vinegar” or “parmesan.”

After months of salivating at my desk, I just had to see this place for myself. So when my wife and I finally returned to Europe in the fall of 2021, we included a couple of days in Emilia-Romagna. We had world-class meals in Bologna, Parma, and Ferrara, and we spent two nights in Modena. The food was, if possible, even better than promised. The tortellini in brodo at that sidewalk café in Parma immediately shot to the top of our “best pastas ever” list, even as it redefined what pasta could be.

But we also adored the livable cities, which combined a certain elegance with a user-friendly unfussiness. And Modena in particular got under our skin, as the perfect home base. There are no important sights in town; to be honest, I never set foot in a museum or church. But we never tired of exploring its streets and squares.

And, of course, Modena also provided many memorable meals. One Sunday evening, I kept striking out when my first through fifth choices for dinner were closed. My “last resort” — a desperation play — wound up providing me with one of my best meals of the trip.

That’s Modena…and Emilia-Romanga. It’s no wonder that Tuscans, Romans, Lombards, and Sicilians all love to eat here.

Stopping to Listen to the Church Bells…Anywhere

Looking back on 2022, this was a year when I simply enjoyed being back in Europe — anywhere, doing anything, often doing nothing at all. During those two long years stuck at home, I had plenty of time to reflect on what I love best about travel — especially as I was assembling my travel memoir, The Temporary European. In that book, I explain the conclusion I reached: The best experiences in Europe are, so often, not the big sights and famous attractions. Rather, they are those precious moments in between that stick with you long after you’ve returned home.

I present this in terms of “stopping to listen to the church bells” — no matter how busy you are. But it can take many other forms. Maybe it’s sitting on a park bench on Richmond Green, watching people and their dogs enjoy a sunny day. Chatting with a Croatian vintner about his ancestral responsibility and his contemporary passion. Doing a little “street grazing” in Sarajevo. Getting lost in the heavenly gingerbread allure of Toruń. Browsing an Amsterdam street market.

Where are you going in 2023? It doesn’t matter. Go where you like. But when you get there, don’t spend your time racing from place to place, adhering to an ambitious itinerary. Make a point to stop — literally stand still — and, even if for just a moment, take it all in. Notice the little details of everyday life you’ve always missed. Eavesdrop on conversations…and if you have something to add, interject. Imagine what it might be like to actually live in that place. And if you hear the church bells chime…listen.

Where are you headed in 2023? Any favorite discoveries from 2022 you’d like to share?

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If you enjoyed this list, and would like to browse some others, check out my Discoveries for 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021.

Most of my travels in 2022 were to update our Rick Steves guidebooks. Many of those new, fully-updated-post-COVID editions (including Italy, London, Scotland, and many more) are now available at our Rick Steves Travel Store; the rest are coming soon in 2023.

If you enjoy these stories, check out my travel memoir, The Temporary European: Lessons and Confessions of a Professional Traveler. You can find it at your favorite local bookstore, online at the Rick Steves Travel Store, or as an e-book (such as the Kindle edition).