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Cameron’s Travels

My co-author and frequent collaborator, Cameron Hewitt, is well-traveled, smart, and insightful. And, while he and I are in perfect sync in our travel styles and priorities, he gives voice to the next generation of "Rick Steves travelers." Join me in enjoying his reports right here. —Rick

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When Travel Dreaming Turns to Trip Planning: A Reality Check for the Return to Europe

At the end of this summer, I’m hoping to head back to Europe for the first time in nearly two years. My wife and I are excited to spend a mellow vacation in two of our favorite countries: Slovenia and Italy. But now that travel dreaming is turning to trip planning, we’re realizing that being in this “early wave” of Americans heading to Europe won’t be simple.

You may think it’s too early to head back to Europe, and I won’t disagree. We’re well aware that we are early birds, and as such, this trip will require thoughtful planning, patience, flexibility, and a willingness to grapple with uncertainty. The point of this post is not to convince you to go to Europe as soon as possible; rather, it’s a reality check on the speed bumps and hiccups we’re encountering as we begin to make plans. This may embolden you to plan your own trip; more likely, it’ll validate your decision to wait until 2022.

The Plan

We are hoping to spend a couple of weeks in Europe at the end of the summer, about two months from now. Our itinerary: A week in Slovenia (Ljubljana and the Julian Alps), followed by a week in Italy (Tuscany and the Cinque Terre). Why Slovenia and Italy? First, they’re places we’ve been dreaming of since lockdown began, and where we have friends we’re excited to reconnect with. Second, they’re neighboring EU/Schengen countries, hopefully making it relatively straightforward to cross between them. And we’re choosing to travel mainly in rural places — where our only agenda is scenic joyrides, low-impact nature walks, and simply being in Europe — as opposed to big cities, where we’d be tempted by a long wish list of museums and restaurants that may be closed or too crowded for comfort.

Normally I am an itinerary-planning wonk; I totally geek out on this stuff. Obviously, that skill atrophied over the last year and a half. (Though I must admit, during the darkest days of the pandemic, my wife and I sketched out a detailed two-week trip to New Zealand — knowing full well it almost certainly wouldn’t happen. Alas…someday.) Planning this trip feels like exercising a muscle I haven’t used in a very long time. But slowly, I’m getting back into shape.

The Logistics

In the coming weeks, Europe will reopen to vaccinated American visitors. But much is yet to be determined. Going to Europe in the second half of 2021 means keeping up-to-the-minute on the evolving situation. For the latest, I’ve been checking a variety of news sites (which are handy summaries, but often gloss over details); official European government and embassy sites (which are more definitive, but can be clogged with bureaucratic gobbledygook); and, most important, European friends, who are sharing their sixth sense about how things might evolve.

Here’s the tricky part: While Europe is making plans to reopen, those plans are not quite in place yet. So, effectively, we’re planning a trip to a future reality that doesn’t yet exist. Travel is always a leap of faith, but this feels even more so. (For this reason, I won’t bother getting into too many details in this post; suffice it to say, if you’re not up for continually researching the latest on your own…you should hold off on going to Europe.)

As of July 1, vaccinated or recovered Americans are eligible to apply for a “Digital COVID Certificate” from the European Union (also called a “Green Pass”) — a smartphone QR code designed to ease transit. Even before this rolled out, there were already concerns about the rollout. I’m hoping things become clearer over the coming weeks; we have our vaccine cards at the ready, and expect that, when the time comes, we’ll somehow use them to get official permission to enter the EU.

What about testing and quarantining? In theory, the Digital COVID Certificate will allow us to avoid any quarantine requirements on arrival in Europe, and when traveling between EU/Schengen countries. But each country sets its own policies. Currently there are still some testing requirements when entering or moving within Europe; these may be relaxed — or heightened — as the summer goes on. Even though we are fully vaccinated, we’re expecting that we may need to test at some point, or many, in our travels. (And as of now, we’ll definitely need to test before returning to the US — though this, like many other aspects of international travel, may well change.)

While we wait for the red tape to become clear, our biggest hurdle is booking flights. Normally we look for the most affordable option, without much concern about refundability. But in this case, it’s more likely that we’ll need to change or cancel our plans. As I’ve looked around at likely flight options, it appears that airlines are offering more changeable, or even refundable, tickets for $200 to $400 more than basic economy fares. Normally this would sound steep. But in 2021, it’s a worthwhile investment in our peace of mind. (The good news is that base fares for our trip are about on par with 2019, and in some cases even lower.)

I also have this concern in mind when booking accommodations. So far, most of the places we’re considering have very liberal refund policies, allowing us to cancel even a few days before arrival. We’d be reluctant to book a hotel with strict cancellation policies — but, of course, that limits our choices.

Is Europe ready for us? Increasingly, the answer appears to be yes. After some stumbles out of the gate, European vaccination rates are rapidly moving the right direction. In fact, some countries are already pulling ahead of the USA, and the EU is shooting for the ambitious goal of immunizing 70 percent of its adult population by the end of July. Just over the last few weeks, Spain, France, and Italy have all suspended their masking requirements. European hotels and restaurants are desperate for our business, and it seems we’re reaching a tipping point where it’s safe and responsible for us to head over and help them out.

Still, I sense a healthy skepticism, bordering on unease, among my European friends. The rise of the Delta variant is putting certain countries (including the UK) on the “undesirable” list; this could lead to new travel restrictions in some places. However, vaccines appear to be successful in preventing Delta infections, and so far, these added restrictions apply only to non-vaccinated travelers. If a variant emerges that causes more “breakthrough” infections in vaccinated people, I’d take that as a reason to cancel our trip. (Meanwhile, the still-evolving variant situation is even more reason to focus our trip on remote, rural areas that are well suited to distancing.)

In general, when I ask my European friends what they think about this trip, the response is unanimously positive. Maybe they’re just lonely and eager to see me after two long years. But I also think they have a sense that the pandemic is winding down, and late summer will be a great time to venture back and celebrate together. Some have mentioned a fear (based partly on bad memories from last year) that there could be a new surge over the winter. Hopefully the success of the vaccines prevents that. But either way, my European friends seem to believe that late summer or early fall is as good a time as any for a visit.

The Attitude Adjustment

All of the above are logistical questions. But there are larger philosophical questions, too. And whether you’re heading to Europe soon, or holding off until 2022 (or beyond), it’s clear that we travelers will need to adjust our expectations.

One thing I keep reminding myself is that, following an event as major as the pandemic, there’s no returning to exactly the way things were. We talk a lot about “back to normal,” but the fact is that our post-COVID reality will be a “new normal.”

After 9/11, there were many temporary changes to our daily lives — and also a few that are still with us, such as perpetually heightened security checks at the airport. Likewise, I imagine we’ll see some long-term changes in European travel. For example, I assume more people will wear masks on airplanes and in crowded spaces, as a matter of course. Some changes will be for the better: Some of my favorite restaurants have streamlined their takeout business and their in-person menus and ordering. But other changes might be a headache, or even feel like a loss.

The fact is, even as we’re being told to celebrate our soaring vaccination rates and plummeting cases, many of us are unhappy. We’re seeing an epidemic of mass shootings and gun violence; employees are quitting their jobs at an unprecedented rate (the so-called “Great Resignation”); and, anecdotally, shoppers, airline passengers, and motorists are melting down in numbers we’ve never seen before. Many of us are probably dealing with some unresolved trauma from weathering a once-a-century global crisis. And everyone is still adapting to all those little changes and readjustments in everyday life.

As travelers, if not simply as human beings, the first step is to accept that things are different, and to cut each other some slack. When you go back to Europe — whether it’s this summer or next — if you expect things to be exactly as you remember them, you’ll be disappointed. That’s why flexibility will be key. And the sooner you go, the more flexible you’ll need to be.

That also includes adhering to the local guidelines, wherever you go. If you bristle at the idea of having to mask or distance in a way that you don’t personally feel is necessary — or that runs counter to your own government’s advice — I suggest that you exercise your right to postpone your trip to Europe until such time as it’s more in line with your expectations. If the Romans are masking and distancing…do as the Romans do.

All of this is to say that my wife and I are totally realistic that our dreamed-of return to Europe will hit several more bumps in the road over the coming weeks, and may not happen at all. But for the first time in a very long time, we’re optimistic. And no matter how it turns out, I’ll be reporting on what I learn.

What about you? Any thoughts of heading to Europe later this year? If you’re planning a trip, what challenges are you encountering? And if you’re the rare American who’s already made it to Europe, how did it go?

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Why Americans Don’t Trust Each Other (and Northern Europeans Do)

With the big news that vaccinated Americans can go maskless in most situations, I’ve noticed a trend: deep societal distrust. People in my social circles (who are mostly vaccinated, or will be soon) are wringing their hands and raising alarms that some Americans will remove their masks even if they’re not vaccinated. The new CDC policy is predicated on trusting both the efficacy of the vaccines (which is well-founded) and the “honor system” approach to unmasking only when vaccinated. The challenge is that the Venn diagram overlap of “anti-vaxxers” and “anti-maskers” is, one imagines, very nearly a solid circle. But there’s a bigger, underlying problem: We Americans don’t trust each other.

“Social trust” is a complicated sociological construct, with many ramifications. But it boils down to a simple question: Do you believe that most people can be trusted?

It’s staggering to reflect upon what a huge blow American social trust has taken over the last year. Of course, there’s the pandemic: When called upon to change our behavior to protect ourselves and our most vulnerable neighbors, many Americans simply refused — throwing temper tantrums in supermarkets and politicizing public health guidance as a matter of “personal freedom.” And even some people who’ve been saying “Trust the science!” for all this time are now, suddenly…not trusting the science.

But there have been many other reminders, too, of how little Americans trust each other. The murder of George Floyd, and so many others, demonstrated why Black Americans have very good reason not to trust the police (or, really, society at large). And on January 6, a mob of furious insurrectionists who didn’t trust the results of a legitimate election stormed the US Capitol building.

All of this is not just to recap a grisly year in American history, but to illustrate how little trust Americans have for each other. (Not to mention, how little the rest of the world trusts the US.) And that’s very much at odds with the way much of Europe operates. In fact, Northern European countries have the highest social trust of anyone.

I’m not pretending to be a social scientist. But I am an avid traveler. And especially in Northern Europe, I see signs of social trust permeating everyday life, in a way that makes me jealous…if not tempted to move abroad.

Strolling the canals of Amsterdam, you find yourself peeking in big, open windows that face out to the street. It’s as if people have chosen to live their personal lives in public. That’s because they have: Dutch people sacrifice some degree of privacy for the peace of mind that comes with knowing that your neighbors are looking out for you. They want to be seen, because if their neighbor walks by one day and notices they’re not sitting at the table drinking their morning coffee, the neighbor will investigate and, if necessary, send for help. For the Dutch, spying on each other doesn’t breed paranoia. It provides comfort.

I have changed planes dozens of times at Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport. When you’re lying there on a hard bench in a jeg-lag stupor, you hear the same announcement again and again: “Immediate boarding, please. Delta flight 143 to Seattle. Please report to the gate. You are delaying the flight.” It’s telling how the Dutch try to motivate wayward passengers: Not with the consequences to yourself (that would be “You will miss your flight”) — but with the inconvenience you are causing others. Letting someone else down, to the Dutch, is the ultimate embarrassment. (To many Americans, it’s a point of pride.)

Walking through small-town Denmark, you may come across a strange sight: a baby stroller — with the baby inside! — just sitting there on the sidewalk. This seems shocking, until you realize that the stroller is parked at the window of a café, where Mom is catching up with friends while keeping an eye on her kiddo. This would never fly in most parts of the US; we’d call Child Protective Services without hesitation. But the Danes trust each other: Mom knows that nobody will snatch her dozing baby, and passersby know that she’s just a few steps away if needed. (And even if she weren’t, they’d step in to help.)

On a visit to Oslo, a Norwegian friend told me he’s very aware — and appreciative — of the trust he feels within his society. He is comforted that everyone looks out for each other, and that individual achievement doesn’t supersede a more widespread prosperity. Norwegians believe there’s always enough to go around.

He said that you also find this ethic in Scandinavian emigre communities in North America. A prime example is the “Minnesota slice” phenomenon at an Upper Midwest potluck: Nobody wants to take the last slice of pie, so instead, they keep cutting it in half, then in half again, carving off infinitesimally smaller slivers. At some point, once a wedge can’t be divided any further, what’s left sits on a plate until the table is cleared. The Minnesota slice is a tangible symbol of “just in case you need it, my friend…”

Anecdotally, it seems to me that many Americans are pretty depressed right now, even in spite of our euphoria that the pandemic appears to be in its final stages. We’re wiped out from the false starts and the hurry-up/wait that has characterized life for the last 14 months. We’re exhausted from a year-plus of quarantine, we’ve grown accustomed to isolation, and we’re anxious about changing our entire lifestyle yet again. I believe this transition is made harder because we’ve lost any faith we once had in our fellow Americans. Scary times are scarier when you don’t feel like the person next to you has your back.

In fact, scientists have found that social trust is correlated with happiness (repeatedly, including in the United States). It’s also correlated with economic development (again, repeatedly). In the USA, we prize individuality. We tell ourselves that the only way to be happy is to be a free agent, to follow our own compass. This has only increased over the last year. But the research tells a different story; it suggests that “maximum personal freedom” is a recipe for existential misery.

I don’t know how we begin to re-establish social trust in the United States. Maybe it’s a lost cause. (Though I imagine a first step would be to embrace objective reality in the form of, let’s say, election results, police body-cam footage, and scientific inquiry — even when these don’t support our deeply held beliefs.) But it’s clear that trusting each other is the only viable path forward, if we hope to emerge from COVID stronger and happier than before.

I am aware this is naively optimistic, but I like to dream that somehow, this will change with the post-pandemic “new normal” in America. Perhaps we’ll realize that we’ve hit rock bottom and will now turn toward a more Northern European model of trusting our neighbors, earning their trust in return, and remembering that we’re all in this together. After all, it’s right there in our national motto: “Out of many, one.” Somewhere along the way we clung to only the first part and jettisoned the last.

Either way…I’ll save a slice of pie for you. Just in case.

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Europe Is Reopening. So Many Questions!

After 14 long months of being patient, travelers finally got some good news: Europe is hoping to reopen to vaccinated Americans this summer. If you’ve been dreaming of Tuscan agriturismi, Greek isles, Slovenian Alps, or Spanish cities…you may not have to dream much longer.

This news, however, raised more questions than it answered. And as I knock the rust off my gears and click over from “dreaming/reminiscing” into “planning” mode, my mind is buzzing with what comes next.

Some things are known — or, at least, “known unkowns.” Over the last several days, I’ve been researching logistics for a post-COVID Europe travel FAQ on our website. If you’re looking for straightforward details on exactly when and how Europe’s reopening might work, click over there.

Those boxes ticked, now I’m finding myself preoccupied with bigger questions about travel in Europe post-COVID — the kinds of questions that are hypothetical until, suddenly, they aren’t. You won’t find many answers in this post, but maybe these questions will prime your pump as you ponder whether and when to go to Europe, too. (And feel free to add your own concerns and musings in the Comments.)

First: How “open” will Europe really be? It seems likely that, in the coming months, the United States’ vaccination rate will continue to outpace most of Europe’s. That means that vaccinated travelers will be mixing among non-vaccinated locals. And that means that COVID restrictions will likely remain in full effect: masking, distancing, limits on gatherings, and so on. Many businesses will still be closed, or operating at very reduced capacity.

In response to Europe’s reopening, I’ve heard some people say, “Why would I go somewhere when the museums and restaurants are closed?” That’s a fair point — and those people should stay home longer, until Europe is entirely back on its feet. But for travelers who choose to venture out sooner, it remains to be seen whether things are “open enough” to warrant the trip. (And, for what it’s worth, if you’ve ever wished you could visit Europe when it was less crowded, this may be your chance. Unexpected closures and other hiccups could be a welcome tradeoff for peace and quiet.)

A related question is an ethical one: Is it appropriate to travel in a place where many residents are not vaccinated, even if you are? I chewed over this question in my previous post, about Iceland’s reopening. And I can really see both sides.

The fact is, Europe’s tourism industry is in a tailspin. Every week I get emails from European friends who are struggling: Some tour guides have taken office jobs, chained to a desk rather than leading eager students around the wonders of Europe. Others can’t find work, so they’re scraping to get by. Restaurants and bars that have long been hubs where travelers and locals could meet and mingle have closed their doors forever. Spunky little hotels and lovingly run B&Bs have closed up shop.

Anecdotally, I’ve seen a new wave of closures, both in my own community and across Europe, escalate in the last few months — ironically, just as the end is in sight. It seems like many business operators have the finances and the internal fortitude to weather up to one year of crisis…but at some point, they just can’t keep going. One big question I have is, simply, which businesses will survive and emerge on the other side of the pandemic?

Vaccines are a game-changer. And vaccinated Americans are a huge potential customer base just sitting there, waiting to be invited in to spend money and revive an ailing economy. Nothing is 100% “safe” these days, but vaccinated travelers (provided they obey local masking, distancing, and other regulations) are Europe’s safest bet for getting things rolling again, short of not getting things rolling at all. Will this gamble pay off? Or will unexpected outbreaks cause Europe to pull the “emergency brake” on reopening and make travelers wish they’d waited?

Looking farther into the future, I wonder what the new status quo will be in Europe, in the wake of COVID. We are all eager to get “back to normal,” but it’s only realistic to expect that it will be a new normal. After 9/11, air travel (and travel in general) gradually began to feel “normal” again…but some things were permanently altered. (When’s the last time you walked a loved one to their gate and waved goodbye as they got on the plane?)

Similarly, some aspects of travel will never quite go back to “pre-COVID.” Many of these changes are probably for the best. For example, after a year and half of no colds whatsoever, you’d better believe I’ll be wearing a mask on long flights for the foreseeable future. (Think of all the sore throats and runny noses I’ll avoid!) And for quite some time, I’m sure I’ll keep a mask tucked in my back pocket for crowded Metros and other congested areas.

Other things might feel like a loss. In many southern European countries, old friends and new acquaintances greet each other with a double or triple kiss on the cheek.  Much as some people are speculating that the elbow or fist bump will remain a viable alternative to a handshake, I have to wonder if Europeans will become less “kissy”? Will they adopt a more American attitude about personal space?

In general, people-to-people interaction has always been one of the great joys of travel. How will that be affected by rampant germophobia? I imagine, at a minimum, we’ll all need to wade back into those kinds of interactions, and deprogram ourselves from seeing every stranger as a potential existential threat.

I also wonder how the pandemic will change travelers’ tastes — their preferred style of traveling, their mindset, even their preference of destinations? I’ve heard some speculation that urban destinations will be on the outs, at least for a while, as travelers head for the countryside to socially distance in an idyllic little slice of rural Europe. Places like village Tuscany, rugged North Wales, or Iceland’s remote Westfjords may become newly popular.

On the other hand, some travelers — having spent so much time stuck at home — may be desperate to plunge into a big city and let it gobble them up whole. I daydream about simply being in my favorite city, Budapest. Not doing anything in particular; just existing in a place I love.

I suspect that fast-paced, whistle-stop, if-it’s-Tuesday-it-must-be-Belgium itineraries may also go out of vogue. Will travelers be inclined to slow down and listen to the church bells? Lingering longer — visiting fewer places and digging in deeper? Not traveling for so long has reminded me what a privilege travel is, and that I shouldn’t take it for granted. Rather than racing through an itinerary as if eager to mark off a big red X on each calendar day, I’m planning on building in more slack…creating space to relax and reflect.

Before the pandemic, Europe had reached a saturation point. “Overtourism” was the big theme of 2018 and 2019, and some super-popular cities (like Amsterdam, Barcelona, or Venice) were even asking travelers to stay away. Soon those people got their wish, and then some, as they had those places entirely, unmistakably to themselves. Will they now welcome us back with open arms? Or have they gotten used to the solitude?

It’s hard to imagine it today. But someday — perhaps sooner than we think — Europe will be grappling with “overtourism” all over again. My last question — more of a hope, really — is whether all of us, Europeans and travelers, will have taken the long pandemic hiatus to approach these challenges in a more thoughtful way. Now more than ever, I am aware that I should travel as an invited guest — mindful that my impact on a place can be positive, or negative, or a mix of both. My goal will be to enjoy and engage in Europe without becoming part of the problem. And maybe Europe will be more proactive about limiting, or more smartly managing, incoming travelers to prevent damaging fragile cities and towns.

In some ways, I wish someone could just give me the answers to these questions right now. At the same time…I just can’t wait to head over there and find out for myself.

What about you? Any hopes or fears about Europe’s reopening? What are the big questions you’re hoping to find answers for, when at long last you make your way back to Europe?

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Iceland Is Open. Should You Go?

For those of us addicted to international travel, March 18 brought some intriguing news: Iceland opened its borders to people who have been vaccinated against COVID-19. Suddenly, an overseas trip — to a steaming, insanely scenic, puffin-populated, near-Arctic island, no less — is a real possibility. Summer solstice in Reykjavík, anyone?

I love Iceland. Over the past few years, I’ve traveled there several times, researching, writing, and updating our Rick Steves Iceland guidebook (in collaboration with Rick and our co-author, Ian Watson). I’m not vaccinated yet — I’m patiently waiting for my turn — but as soon as that happens, the temptation to head back to Iceland will become difficult to resist. Meanwhile, Continental Europe has hit a speed bump with its vaccine rollout, and they’re still sorting out who will be allowed in, and when. My fingers are crossed for returning to the Continent sometime in the latter half of 2021…but I’m not counting on it.

So, for antsy travelers-in-waiting, should Iceland be our first trip back overseas? Iceland’s tourist season is brief: The weather’s best, the midnight sun is shining, and the puffins are nesting from June through August. That gives us a little time to decide. Here are some considerations.

Is It the “Right Thing” to Do?

For me, the first question is an ethical one: Would I be doing more harm than good by visiting Iceland this summer?

In recent years, with Iceland’s meteoric rise in popularity, tourism has grown to about 40 percent of its revenue and 15 percent of its jobs. Iceland is reopening its borders because, economically, they need tourism to return.

But here’s the critical caveat: Iceland wants the right kind of tourists. That means, first of all, people who can prove they’ve been vaccinated. And more than that, Icelanders want visitors who are conscientious — ones who recognize that they’re invited guests and are willing to do their part to keep Iceland safe.

This winter, my wife and I spent some time in a place similar to Iceland — an isolated locale with relatively low COVID rates, hoping to keep it that way while opening up to visitors. We went there only because we were confident we could adhere to rigorous precautions (masking, social distancing, and so on). We didn’t want to get sick, sure. But even more important, we didn’t want to infect our hosts.

In the end, it went great. The unanimous sense we got from locals was that they genuinely appreciated visitors who buoyed their economy — provided those visitors respected the rules and shared their commitment to keep the community safe.

In short, if you feel a sense of entitlement to do whatever you like on vacation — if a “vacation” means a vacation from masking and social distancing — then stay home. Iceland doesn’t want you. But unselfish rule-followers are more than welcome.

Ring Road, Iceland

This ties into what I hope will be a trend in post-pandemic travel: Being a thoughtful guest. It’s easy to forget now, but 2019 — the last “normal” year of traveling — was a hard one. “Overtourism” was the big theme; popular places like Amsterdam, Barcelona, Venice, and, yes, Iceland were overwhelmed with bigger (and unrulier) crowds than they could handle. “Instagram” became a dirty word because of the pileup of humanity that clogged a few influencer-endorsed photo op viewpoints, getting in the way of local life.

Talking to people in these “overtouristed” places, the unifying sentiment was clear: They don’t want zero tourists; they want the right number of tourists, and the right kind of tourists — those who are curious, respectful, and fun. As we get “back to normal” over the coming months (whether that begins in Iceland or not), this is something all travelers should keep front-of-mind: Being a good traveler means being a good guest.

Logistics

Iceland is user-friendly. English is widely spoken; the roads are well-maintained, well-marked, and (except during Reykjavík’s rush hour) uncrowded; and people are generally welcoming, if a bit shy, and have an inspiring can-do attitude. The downsides are the cold weather, even in summer (bundle up); and the high expense (but budget-minded visitors find ways to manage their costs).

The biggest logistical hurdle right now is that incoming visitors are required to show proof of vaccination with one of several approved jabs: Pfizer, Moderna, Johnson & Johnson/Janssen, or AstraZeneca. Proof that you’ve recovered from COVID-19 is also accepted. Visitors also must preregister online. Iceland requests that visitors download and activate the national contact-tracing app. And, once there, visitors are expected to adhere to any COVID-related regulations, including masking, gathering, and social distancing policies similar to what you’ll find in more community-minded corners of the USA.

If you’re considering a visit, be certain to keep up-to-date on entry requirements, which could change at any time — the onus is on the traveler to be informed. The Icelandic government’s COVID-19 website is a good resource. (To get your head around all of this, here’s a recent first-person account of visiting Iceland right now.) And keep in mind that, for now, all passengers returning to the United States must have a negative COVID-19 test within 72 hours before their trip (so you’ll need to get a test in Iceland); it remains to be seen whether this requirement might be relaxed for vaccinated travelers.

The CDC is currently discouraging travel, even for the vaccinated. (This advice is being widely ignored, however.) Assuming you’re planning a summertime trip, keep an eye on evolving CDC guidance. Because it’s still not entirely clear whether vaccinated people can carry and spread COVID-19, masking at all times at airports, in flight, and in other indoor or enclosed situations remains the considerate thing to do; regardless, Icelandair (and other airlines serving Iceland) has a masking requirement, and Iceland requires masks in public, unless you’re outside and more than two meters from the nearest person.

To plan your trip, pick up our Rick Steves Iceland guidebook. The second edition was meticulously updated in late 2019; in fact, on my last trip to Europe before the world changed, I invested a week in writing up new chapters on Snæfellsnes and the Westfjords. Unfortunately, by the time that edition was printed, COVID-19 had already shut down travel. That second edition is as up-to-date as anything in print. Still, it’s too early to know how the pandemic might affect the book’s advice…so please be patient.

In general, anyone heading to Iceland (or anywhere) in the next several months should be realistic: You’re a pioneer, and you’ll need to remain flexible. As of this writing, bars, theaters, and swimming pools in Iceland remain closed, and restaurant space is strictly controlled. (For details and updates, see this government site.) Beyond that, things are unpredictable: New variants or problematic spikes could scrap your plans or send you home early. If you’re not up for that, sit tight until the situation is more established.

What to Do, Where to Go?

The 48- or 72-hour “layover” approach has always been popular for a quick Iceland getaway: home-basing in Reykjavík and spending most of your time side-tripping to the Blue Lagoon lava-rock spa, the attraction-studded Golden Circle loop, the dramatic scenery of the South Coast, and/or the off-the-beaten-path Westman Islands. (Here’s my detailed description of one such trip. And here are some more itinerary tips.)

Typically, people do these quickie stopovers because they’re adding Iceland on to a longer European journey. This summer, however, Europe seems likely to remain off-limits, or at least more complicated to visit. So if you’ve ever been tempted to settle in for a longer, stand-alone Icelandic trip — and you should — now may be the time.

Europe’s ultimate road trip is Iceland’s Ring Road: 800 stunning miles on Highway 1, looping around the perimeter of the island. It takes at least a full week at a speedy pace; adding a few more days lets you linger longer and break up a string of one-night stays. My Ring Road blog post outlines the basics of doing the drive on your own, and our Rick Steves Iceland book offers detailed, day-by-day, stop-by-stop instructions for a mind-blowing road trip.

If you have a little less time — or want to spend less of it in the car — you could still visit Reykjavík and environs, then add on a few days elsewhere. The Snæfellsnes peninsula is doable as a long day trip, but works better with at least one overnight. This combines well with a trip to the Westfjords, which gets you feeling very far from civilization, including the chance to visit some stunning waterfalls and one of the world’s best bird cliffs. Or spend a few nights in the Mývatn area (in Iceland’s North); this offers a taste of the Ring Road without committing to the entire loop.

Consider the efficiency of a one-way car rental (which may come with an extra fee): Drive from Reykjavík to a distant and scenic outpost, drop off your car, then zip back to the capital on a cheap, easy, and frequent flight (from Ísafjörður in the Westfjords, or from Akureyri near Mývatn).

Another advantage of this “get out of Reykjavík” approach is that it makes social distancing that much easier. The experience of driving through the Westfjords or hiking amidst steamy craters at Mývatn isn’t that much different today than it was during pre-COVID times; one of the great appeals of Iceland has always been that sensation of being all alone in the grandeur of nature. (The only ailment I’ve ever picked up in Iceland was a wicked case of athlete’s foot from a thermal swimming pool.)

Should you go to Iceland this summer? It would be reasonable to conclude that it’s too early — there’s plenty to see and do closer to home, and Iceland will still be waiting for you later on, when things are closer to “normal.” But if you’re just itching to get overseas, Iceland could be an ideal way to give it a scratch until Continental Europe opens up.

I’m still thinking about it, and keeping an eye on how those first few weeks’ worth of visitors are finding Iceland (and how Iceland is finding them). What about you? Tempted?

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10 European Discoveries for 2021

On the horizon, there is light. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but it’s coming. Although it has never been more important (or harder) to continue staying home, limiting contact with others, wearing masks, and so on, it’s beginning to feel like 2021 may bring the “return to normal” — and the return to travel — that we all crave. It’s too early to begin planning trips, but it’s never too early to dream. So…where to?

The last several years, my New Year tradition has been to assemble a list of 10 European Discoveries. As we reach the end of a year of hardship, and face a new year of further uncertainty, I almost bailed on this idea. But we will return to Europe. It’s just a question of when. So I’ll keep with tradition — but with a new spin.

I believe that in the post-pandemic world, travelers will look for something different. Before COVID-19, we had gotten so busy, and so stressed by the crowds, that we forgot to slow down and hear the church bells — to savor those beautiful everyday moments of European life. (If I have a post-pandemic resolution, it’s to not make this mistake again.) Having renewed our appreciation for the incredible privilege of being able to go anywhere we want, we’ll seek opportunities to settle in, slow down, and be fully present in Europe. We’ll choose places just outside the mainstream, ones that reward patience and contemplation.

And that’s the theme of my 2021 European Discoveries: 10 places where you might want to settle in for a week, or a few, and really get to know a fascinating corner of our planet. I haven’t set foot in Europe in well over a year — with, I assume, several more months yet to go. It has afforded me ample opportunity to reflect on my 20-plus years of exploring Europe. And looking back on all of it, these are the places the burn brightest in my mind.

Where are you hoping to slow down and savor our world in 2021?

 

Soča Valley, Slovenia

I can think of few places I’ve missed more in 2020 than Slovenia. And for me, the most beautiful place in this incredibly beautiful country is the Soča Valley, where a turquoise river cuts a gorge deep into soaring alpine cliffs, just a few miles from the borders with Austria and Italy. Historians know the Soča Valley for its fierce mountaintop battles during World War I (this is where Ernest Hemingway was wounded while driving an ambulance). And contemporary travelers know it as an adventure-sports capital (whitewater rafting, canyoning, paragliding) and home to the restaurant of Ana Roš, the world’s best female chef. You can get a taste of the Soča Valley on a very busy one-day side-trip from Lake Bled or Ljubljana. But why not settle in for several days? Sleep at a tourist farm on a high-mountain pasture, wake up each day to the sun peeking over snowcapped mountains, and spend your breakfast (of farm-fresh eggs) deciding which breathtaking hike or scenic drive to do today.

 

The Markets of Provence

In September of 2019, my wife and I had a full week to unwind anywhere in Europe. Already exhausted from a packed and fast-paced year of travel, we opted for a quiet weeklong break in the South of France. Why? We wanted to savor the delightful market days (jours de marché) that hop from place to place around the bucolic Provençal countryside. In one week, we sampled seven different markets, each with its own personality. Yes, Provence is packed with other attractions: great sights and wine-tastings and gourmet meals and scenic hikes and hot-air balloon rides. But the markets are precisely the type of sensory super-experience we’re all desperate for after a 2020 spent very close to home. After living through a time when going to the corner grocery store feels like high adventure, imagine the thrill of strolling a lively town square, generously shaded by plane trees, as you choose a little wheel of cheese for your picnic from a mound of fragrant options, browse for just the right produce for a home-cooked Provençal feast, and bite into a strawberry that truly, intensely tastes like strawberry.

 

Budapest

I wrote the book on Budapest…literally. And yet, even after 20-some visits, I still can’t get enough of this grand city on the Danube. With each weeklong visit to update my guidebook, the list of things I’d still like to see and do gets longer, not shorter. The melting pot and de facto capital of Central Europe, Budapest’s unique urban culture mixes a respect for tradition with a cosmopolitan openness to creativity and innovation. It wins my vote for the hands-down best restaurant and nightlife scene in Europe. And yet it also has a stately elegance, with ornate turn-of-the-century buildings, inviting tree-lined plazas, and wooded hills ideal for nature hikes. (And don’t get me started on the thermal baths.) Last March, I had already booked my tickets for yet another visit to Budapest, and I couldn’t wait. That trip, of course, never happened. And by the time I finally get back there, the anticipation will be unbearable. I never know precisely what I’ll see, do, and learn in Budapest. But I know it’ll create lasting memories.

 

Iceland’s Ring Road

When we produced our Rick Steves Iceland guidebook, we included a “how to” chapter on Europe’s ultimate road trip: driving 800 miles on Highway 1 around the perimeter of Iceland, connecting astonishing scenery, geothermal hotspots, glaciers and icebergs, charming fjordside settlements, and warm and wonderful Icelanders. We covered the Ring Road generously in our book, even though we figured very few people would devote the full week required to do this trip justice. But maybe we were wrong. The pandemic has made National Lampoon’s Vacation-style road trips all the rage again. There’s never been a better time to rack up some serious miles through cinematic landscapes and have an honest-to-goodness adventure. And Iceland is made to order for “social distancing” as we tiptoe into the post-pandemic future. My Ring Road post covers the basics; if the photos and places intrigue you, forget about that “48-hour Icelandic layover” you’ve been contemplating…go all-in on the full Ring Road.

 

North Wales

Recently I had the joyful experience of driving around North Wales (roughly the triangle formed by Conwy, Caernarfon, and Ruthin) for several days to update our Rick Steves Great Britain guidebook. I adore Europe’s plucky, off-the-beaten-path cultural eddies, and North Wales tops the list. Along with offering a fascinating crash course in Welsh culture and language, this region is studded with towering stone castles that make you feel like a kid again, a rugged landscape of craggy mountains and slate rooftops, and cheery red dragons laughing down from every flagpole. And it’s compact, making it easy to see a lot from any one of a number of charming home bases. While less known than the Scottish Highlands or Ireland’s Dingle Peninsula, North Wales is every bit as fun, scenic, and culturally rich.

 

Maramureș, Romania

Years ago, my Dad and I went on a road trip through Romania, seeking traditional culture. When we came to Maramureș — ten long, potholed hours of driving north of Bucharest — we felt like anthropologists stumbling upon a place that time forgot. The rolling green hillsides are dotted with giant, tipsy haystacks. Rustic villages with mud roads — and more horse carts than cars — are lined with elaborate wooden churches and ceremonial gateways. Shepherds living in split-wood shacks make cheese like medieval peasants. And riverside settlements bustle with industry dating back to biblical times, from carpet-washers to fulling mills to to weaving looms to moonshine stills. This is not an “open-air folk museum” — it’s the real deal, Europe’s Amish Country. As our world changes at a dizzying pace — which only accelerated in 2020 — there’s no guarantee that Maramureș traditions will survive for much longer. (Teo Ivanciuc, an excellent local guide who helped us film our TV segment in Maramures, would love to show you around.)

 

Camino de Santiago, Spain

In the Middle Ages, pilgrims walked from all over Europe to venerate the bones of St. James in Santiago de Compostela, at the northwest corner of Iberia. This route — the Camino de Santiago — was largely forgotten over the centuries, only to be rediscovered in our own lifetime by travelers seeking an escape from modern life. After a year of deep soul-searching, there’s nothing like a four-week hike to clear the mind, synthesize all we’ve learned, and contemplate where to go from here. Begin in the green Pyrenees foothills of Basque Country, then walk across the arid plains of northern Spain, through villages and cities and across stone bridges from Roman times, before finally passing trough the wilds of lush, green, and rocky Galícia — all along the way, sleeping in rustic pilgrims’ hostels and following scallop shells through the wilderness. I’ve hiked bits of the Camino here and there (and I drove the entire route, end to end, to write a “how to” chapter in our Rick Steves Spain guidebook). But I’ve never been so tempted to do the full Camino the old-fashioned way.

 

Lofoten Islands, Norway

All my life, I’d seen this magical place in postcards and coffee-table books: soulful fjords with cut-glass mountains rising high above serene, deep waters, speckled with red cottages and almost no people. My wife and I decided we simply had to see this scene for ourselves. And when we finally made it to the Lofoten Islands — above the Arctic Circle and chilly even in August — we found it even more stunning than the photos. Getting to the Lofoten requires some effort (from Oslo, fly due north for an hour and a half), so you might as well settle in. The rugged Norwegians who’ve carved out a hardy life up here, hanging cod to dry on rickety wooden frames, are adept at introducing visitors to traditional lifestyles. Rent a rorbu (cheery cottage perched on stilts over the fjord) and spend a few days just tooling around, from the “capital city” village of Svolvær to the end-of-the-road cod-fishing settlement called Å. We home-based in Reine, perched on a flat rock in the middle of a fjord with the most stunning views in all of the Lofoten, and from there we ventured out to see everything the archipelago has to offer.

 

New Zealand

Sure, it’s not “European” in geographical terms. But for anyone who loves Europe, New Zealand feels strikingly familiar…yet excitingly different. (One afternoon, you’re punting the River Avon in Christchurch, as if you were in an English country garden; the next day, you’re swimming with dolphins at Kaikoura.) After years of hearing from our well-traveled friends about this seemingly too-good-to-be-true land, my wife and I finally spent a few weeks here in early 2019. And we fell instantly, hopelessly in love. Yes, the scenery is gobsmacking, and Lord of the Rings fans are in heaven. But New Zealand is so much more: a melding of Europe and Polynesia set amidst an entertaining landscape, where majestic glaciers rise high above steamy groves of ferns and palm trees. We loved sampling the local wine, craft beer, and third-wave coffee culture; learning about the indigenous Māori culture; and getting to know the wonderful Kiwis, who somehow manage to be well-organized and ceaselessly competent while remaining low-key and easygoing. Even before we came home, we’d already started Googling “How do I emigrate to New Zealand?” Now that the Kiwis (under the steady and compassionate leadership of Jacinda Ardern) have managed the pandemic better than anyone, this little island nation is sure to be flooded soon with more than its share of tourists…and transplants. Why not finally get down there soon,  ahead of the crowds? As soon as they open up to outsiders, New Zealand is at the top of our list of post-pandemic dreams.

 

Agriturismo Cretaiole, Tuscany

For years I’ve been singing the praises of a very special place to stay in the most beautiful corner of Tuscany. On a wooded ridge just outside Pienza, city mouse Isabella married country mouse Carlo and, together, they converted a traditional Tuscan farm into the best possible expression of an agriturismo — where visitors experience rural Italian culture and cuisine with modern comforts. With each visit, this place impresses me even more — and especially the vivid, perfectly orchestrated Tuscan experiences that Isabella creates for her guests: truffle hunts, pasta-rolling parties, olive oil appreciation classes, wine tastings, deeply meaningful nature hikes, and on and on. When I close my eyes and picture the one place I’d love to get back to as soon as I can, it’s spending a week — or more — at Cretaiole.

On my most recent visit to Tuscany, a few months before COVID-19 hit, Isabella showed me around her gorgeous new boutique hotel (La Moscadella), offering a similar Tuscan cultural experience with more luxury. But now that fine hotel, and the original farmhouse, sit mostly empty — one more tragedy in this year full of them. Whether it’s Cretaiole or some other perfect place you’ve discovered in your travels, small businesses are hurting right now. If you have the means to travel, as soon as it’s safe, consider booking a return visit. Helping to jump-start these businesses is the least we can do, considering all of the joy people like Isabella and Carlo have brought to our lives over the years.

I’m hoping that 2021 brings good fortune and a return to what we love, both for us travelers and for the people we meet on the road. Like all things, this too shall pass. And a year from now, if all goes well, we’ll be comparing notes about a whole new slew of discoveries for a new age of travel.