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

Thanksgiving in Tuscany: Why You Should Travel for the Holidays

Trick-or-treating is over for another year, cotton cobwebs and jack-o-lanterns are out by the curb, the last few colorful leaves are tumbling out of the trees, and the clouds and rain have shrouded Seattle in gloom. At times like this, I’m glad to have some happy memories of past travels.

A few years ago at this time, I was getting ready to head to Tuscany for Thanksgiving with my wife’s family. (I wrote a series of blog posts about the agriturismo we stayed at just outside of Pienza, and the many culturally enriching activities they arranged for us.) It was, without a doubt, the most memorable Thanksgiving of my life — and a reminder of why, much as we love our traditions, it’s important to break free from them every so often and spend the holidays in a new place.

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When I tell people I was in Tuscany for Thanksgiving, their first question is — with a note of concern — “Did you have turkey?”

Americans love their Thanksgiving dinner. And many of us simply can’t fathom counting our blessings without an oversized portion of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, and gravy. Our agriturismo host, Isabella, understands this, so very early in the planning stages she reassured her nervous American guests: “And of course we will celebrate Thanksgiving with a special Thanksgiving meal — one with a Tuscan twist.” Well, phew!

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In typically thoughtful fashion, Isabella had arranged a fantastic feast, which happened to be at one of my favorite restaurants in the region (Ristorante Daria, in the tiny hill town of Monticchiello). Months before, Isabella had conspired with the owner/chef, Daria, over a list of traditional Thanksgiving dishes. And the gang at the restaurant had come up with a delicious mashup of American and Tuscan.

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The first two courses were the most Tuscan, but cleverly informed by “our” Thanksgiving ingredients: a delicate pumpkin soufflé, topped with creamy pecorino cheese sauce and fresh-grated truffle. And a dish of pillowy sweet potato gnocchi, gently nestled in a subtle citrus cream. Both dishes were, at once, explosively flavorful and intensely comforting. I would not mind seeing either of these on my Thanksgiving table for many years to come.

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Then it was time for the main event. The waitstaff loaded all of the turkey onto a tray and ceremonially paraded it through the restaurant, like proud hunters with their kill. Then they took it back into the kitchen and re-emerged with beautiful — and very traditional — plates of turkey, green beans, Brussels sprouts, and mashed potatoes…with, in a delicious Italian twist, a trickle of fresh-pressed olive oil.

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They also brought out some fantastic gravy and surprisingly traditional cranberry sauce. Daria explained that she’d asked some American friends to ship her some cranberries, which are completely unknown in Italy. (Pretend for a moment you’re an acclaimed Italian chef. And imagine your shock — and maybe disgust — upon taking your first-ever bite into a raw cranberry: an explosion of sour and astringent, wrapped in a tough little shell and infused with a blood-red dye. How on earth do Americans eat this stuff? The answer: Lots and lots and lots of sugar. Even on her first try, Daria nailed it.)

Sitting around the dinner table, watching Isabella’s family, and my family, enjoying an American-Italian hybrid dinner, was poignant. But it made me sad to think that people might pass up an idyllic week in off-season Tuscany with their families, just because of a fear that they may not get their turkey fix. Even if we’d missed out on the turkey, this week would have been totally worth it.

Holiday traditions are powerful. But keep open the option of busting out of your rut every so often. Risk not having turkey at Thanksgiving. Spend Christmas at a radish festival in Oaxaca instead of singing carols around a fir tree. Skip trick-or-treating in order to be in Slovenia the day after Halloween, when everybody in the country goes to the cemetery to decorate their family graves — in a touching celebration of generations past and present. Instead of dozing off watching another Detroit Lions blowout, drive around the French Quarter of New Orleans, handing out Thanksgiving leftovers to homeless people.

I’ve been fortunate enough to experience all of those magical holidays, and never regretted what I was “missing out on.” If holidays are fundamentally about surrounding yourself with the people you care about, you can do that anywhere. Your traditions will always be there, back home, waiting for you…next year.

If you’d like some inspiration for experiencing Europe for the holidays — or anytime off-season — here’s a recap of some of the other wonderful experiences we enjoyed during Thanksgiving week in Tuscany:

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We stayed a full week at Agriturismo Cretaiole, perched on a ridge just outside of Pienza and wonderfully run by Isabella and Carlo. Carlo’s dad, Luciano, kept us well-lubricated with nightly doses of grappa and Vin Santo.

We experienced three entirely different — and equally enjoyable — cooking classes: preparing a blowout feast in an Italian mama’s house; shadowing a Michelin chef in his restaurant’s kitchen; and rolling our own pasta back home at our agriturismo.

We explored Montepulciano — my favorite Tuscan hill town — with its colorful cast of craftsmen.

We followed a talented dog as she sniffed out truffles in a primeval forest.

And, in general, we fully enjoyed being in the foodie paradise of Tuscany.

Finally, at the end of the week, we did a little “Black Friday” shopping in Tuscan hill towns, and enjoyed the first of Italy’s holiday lights.

All in all, we found that off-season is a wonderful time to travel in Italy. It’s mild but not cold, it’s less crowded than peak season, and it’s a great time to sample seasonal specialties most tourists never taste.

While you’re digesting your turkey this year, why not do a little daydreaming for next year? A cross-cultural holiday is something worth trying for anybody. Sure, you could miss the turkey, or the Santa suits…but you might just discover something even better.

Or maybe you already have. If you’ve enjoyed holiday experiences on the road, share your favorite memories in the Comments.

Five Electronics Essentials for Traveling in Europe

Electronics play a big role in my travels: smartphone, laptop, serious camera. This post isn’t about those big items, but the smaller “support” items that help me get the most out of my gear. In the spirit of my 10 practical little items I won’t go to Europe without, here are five more electronics-related items that you’ll find in my bag anytime I hit the road.

1. Extra-Long Phone/Tablet Charging Cable

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Europe’s characteristic old hotels were designed decades — or centuries — before everyone needed to plug in a phone at bedtime. I use my phone as an alarm clock, so I want it on my nightstand — not charging on the desk, halfway across the room. An extra-long, 6- or even 10-foot cable doubles your flexibility and takes up only a little more space and weight than a standard 3-foot cable. (Bonus tip: If the outlet is juuuust out of reach of my nightstand, I plug in my laptop, then plug my phone into the laptop — using my MacBook to daisy-chain my way to a few extra feet.)

2. Slide-on Euro Adapter Plug

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If you have an Apple device or laptop, notice that you can slide off the American-style two-flat-prong plug, and slide on a plug for Europe (or wherever). This reduces the odds of leaving your plug adapter behind in the socket when you’re packing in a hurry.

3. Phone Car Charger and Windshield Holder

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The first one’s a no-brainer — you never know when your phone’s battery will flatline at the worst possible time. Packing along a little charger helps tide you over on long journeys. The second item — a suction-cup windshield holder for my phone — may be bulky, but it’s worth it. Now that I’ve used one, I can’t imagine how I got by without it. (Quite dangerously, in all likelihood.) My travels in Europe often include long road trips where I’m the driver, navigator, and sole passenger. And I navigate almost entirely with Google Maps on my phone. With this combo, I can plug in my phone to charge, then affix it to the windshield — letting me navigate my way safely anywhere in Europe, all day long. (By the way, more and more European rental cars now have USB outlets, which let you not only charge your phone while you drive, but listen to your own music or podcasts on the car’s sound system.)

UPDATE (August 2018): Since I first wrote this list, I discovered the perfect solution for safely using GPS while driving: The Kenu Portable Vent Mount. It grips your phone tightly, and you insert its prongs into the car’s vents. And, since it doesn’t rely on bulky suction cups, it’s impressively compact — about the size of a cigarette lighter. The vent mount takes up a fraction of the bag space of a suction-cup model, and works even better…easily my favorite travel gizmo find of the last few years.

4. Headphone Splitter

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My wife often joins me on my trips. And she always packs along this handy little device, which lets us share iPad videos without bothering fellow passengers on a plane or train.

UPDATE, December 2022: OK, I know: Times have changed, and these days it’s probably easier just to pair two sets of AirPods (or other wireless headphones) to the same device. But this splitter can still come in handy while sightseeing: It lets two people share an audioguide while touring a museum for the price of one. (Even when I’m alone at a museum, I look for a headphone jack on the audioguide handset. This frees up my hands to take notes, snap photos, or stroke my chin appreciatively.)

5. Camera Gear

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I carry a bigger camera than most people do (Nikon D750), but that doesn’t mean I want to lug around a lot of dead weight. In my camera bag, you’ll find just the basics: an extra memory card and battery (I learned my lesson last summer, when my battery died just after I’d hiked up to a hilltop viewpoint over Rocamadour at “magic hour”); a spare viewfinder eye cup (mine tends to pop off easily when I slide my camera in and out of my bag, so I stocked up on a few cheap replacements); and a microfiber dust cloth (this one tucks up inside a little pouch). I don’t haul a full-size tripod, but every so often you want to be able to shoot in low light. After going through several, the best mini-tripod I’ve found is by Manfrotto — it’s sturdily built and can support a heavy camera, but still lightweight. And what about that little wooden fork? I don’t carry a day bag — just my camera bag. And I often eat a quick lunch on the run…like a salad from a mini-market that doesn’t stock plastic cutlery. This wooden fork has allowed me to eat several healthy salads…without using my hands.

One “caveat emptor” note: Online — even at some of the big vendors — you can find suspiciously inexpensive versions of some of these items. But I’d stick with a mainstream brand. I’ve bought a few extremely cheap camera batteries that turned out to be exactly that (they died after just a few uses), and some off-brand Euro adapters that broke the first time I used them. When surveying your options, read the reviews carefully.

What am I missing? Do you have any favorite electronics or related accessories?


This list is focused on electronics. But don’t miss my companion list of 10 Little Things I Won’t Go to Europe Without. Or, for a wealth of packing advice and information, check out the Packing Light section of our website.

10 Little Things I Won’t Go to Europe Without

While packing for a trip to Europe, I took a break for a little photo session of my favorite take-alongs. I’m not talking about the obvious stuff — backpack, day bag, toiletries kit, and packing cubes. No, these are the little odds and ends that 20 years of European travel have taught me to always bring along.

Every seasoned traveler has a little bag of doodads stuffed deep in their suitcase, “just in case.” But I’m evangelical about packing light. So I’ve narrowed my MacGyver bag of tricks down to items that are practical, useful, and light enough that even if I don’t wind up needing them, they’re still worth packing along. Here, in no particular order, are the 10 little items that I may never need in Europe…until I definitely do. (You can download or print the list here.) While this list was originally posted in 2016, I update it routinely and occasionally add some new items — most recently in December of 2022.

1. Two types of tape

In a previous post, I mentioned how I use a little roll of black electrical tape to cover up annoying little lights in a hotel room. I’ve used it for dozens of other things, too: band-aiding a fraying headphone cable, de-linting a sweater, fastening a plug to its adapter so I don’t leave it behind in the socket, and on and on. I also bring another type of tape: a very small roll of white duct tape. I often ship a box of accumulated dead weight home midway through a trip, and this tape is essential for sealing the box and reinforcing its seams. Duct tape has so many other uses, too. For example, I’ve used it to help keep stubborn drapes closed to avoid an early-morning sunbeam wake-up call.

UPDATE (December 2022): A roll of tape, even a small one, is admittedly bulky to pack. Imagine how glad I was to learn, from one of my Facebook followers, about RediTape, a flat-pack duct tape. This has replaced that bulky roll in my rucksack. )

2. Vapur Water Bottle

Of course, you could just buy a bottle of water, then re-use the bottle throughout your trip. But an empty plastic bottle takes up more than its share of space in a tightly packed day bag. Instead, I carry a collapsible Vapur water bottle, which you can roll up and tuck (unobtrusively) into any pocket until it’s needed. The plastic carabiner-type hook on the cap is handy for attaching it hands-free to my camera bag or a belt loop. And they’re durable — mine has survived several multi-week trips.

3. Trader Joe’s “Just Mango Slices”

On an hours-long plane or train ride, junk food is tempting. But instead, I carry a couple of bags of Trader Joe’s dehydrated, unsweetened “Just Mango Slices.” They’re explosively flavorful and hearty enough to cut through any jet lag-induced hunger — and they’re more nutritious than a candy bar.

4. Resealable Plastic Baggies (Various Sizes)

It can be hard to find these in Europe. And even if you do, why buy a dozen when you really just need one or two? To save time, I pack away a little bundle of zippered baggies — a mix of gallon, quart, sandwich, and “snack” sizes. I never know just how I’ll use them…until I do (sticky snacks, wet swimsuit, edible souvenirs with a potential for leakage, somewhere to safely stow my phone when I hit the beach or pool, and so on).

5. Sea Bands

I’m fortunate not to have too many problems with motion sickness. But you never know when you’ll wind up on a plane through heavy turbulence, or a bus ride on a serpentine mountain road, or a boat on rough seas. These elastic bands slip onto your wrists, with little beads aimed at pressure points related to combating nausea. This non-medicinal cure has earned many loyal fans among cruise enthusiasts, morning-sickness sufferers, chemo patients, and the perennially carsick.

6. Go Toobs and FlatPak Soap Case

I’ve tried all different types of little bottles for my shampoo, laundry soap, and other liquids. Most have failed — often messily. But a few years back I discovered Go Toobs, and now that’s all I use. The silicone bottle is sturdy yet flexible, and the cap is firmly built and stays on well. By the way, I always seal little bottles like this in “snack-size” plastic baggies before plane trips — just in case the pressure changes trigger any problems.

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UPDATE (December 2019): Russ Whealy, who manages merchandise here at Rick Steves’ Europe, recently added to our product lineup one of my favorite new discoveries: the Matador FlatPak soap bar case. It’s a little collapsible baggie where you can keep your bar of soap. Somehow, it keeps your moist soap from becoming a soggy mess while also preventing leakage. This seemed too good to be true. But I took one on my latest research trip…and it worked like a charm. I used to carry around a heavy plastic soap dish that took up more than its share of space in my toiletries kit. Never again.

(You can also thank Russ for our “spinner” carry-on wheeled bag — my wife’s new favorite bag.)

7. Starbucks Via Instant (or Instant Cappuccino)

If your accommodations don’t provide breakfast, it can be a pain to go prowling the cobbles, bleary-eyed at dawn, just to caffeinate. A few packets of Starbucks Via Instant can save the day. (I also carry single-serving packets of sweetener and powdered creamer. ) This is especially handy if you’re renting an Airbnb-type apartment that comes with a way to heat water, but nothing to put in it. A cup of Via (and maybe a couple of mango slices) tides me over just long enough to get ready for the day and go find a real breakfast.

UPDATE (December 2022): The only catch with Via is that I take milk with my coffee. For a few years, I brought along some individual packets of powdered Coffe Mate…a workable hack, but a little cumbersome. Finally I realized that Europe already has the perfect solution: Over there, it’s easy to get instant cappuccino (Nescafé is one ubiquitous brand), either in individual packets or a little plastic can. Just add water, and you have a coffee drink that’s nicely frothy (how do they do that?) and just the right amount of sweet. While instant cappuccino is tricky to find Stateside (especially in individual packets), it’s readily available at grocery stores all over Europe. I still bring a couple of Via packets for emergencies, then hit a grocery store early in my trip for some instant cappuccino.

8. Airplane Barf Bags

I’ve never used one of these for its intended purpose. But I never leave one behind when I get off the airplane. I have quite a collection of these practical little enclosures, which are just the thing for organizing receipts, postcards, or other random bits of paper…or for just about anything else.

9. Earplugs

As an absurdly light sleeper, I’ve tried every possible kind of earplug (believe me), and I’ve settled on this as my favorite brand: Mack’s, which are soft (comfortable) yet substantial (soundproof). Even if you are a heavy sleeper, you never know when you’ll check into your hotel and discover that the new nightclub next door happens to be holding its grand opening rave…tonight. (This actually happened to me once.) Pack along a few sets of earplugs, and you’ll increase your odds of sleeping soundly.

(If you’re a terrible sleeper like I am, check out my tips for getting a good night’s sleep on the road.)

UPDATE, December 2022: OK, this is hardly a “little thing.” But more recently, to get a good night’s sleep in noisy surroundings, I go to bed wearing my Bose noise-cancelling headphones. (I travel with them anyway, for a little peace and quiet on long flights and train trips…so why not use them overnight?) I never tried this until recently because I simply thought there was no way I’d be comfortable sleeping with them on. But now that I’m used to them, I barely notice them. It’s nice having a second option in my arsenal for noisy nights: Depending on the kind of clamor I’m dealing with, sometimes earplugs do the job, other times the headphones work better, and on occasion, having both is not a terrible thing.

10. Plastic Sheet Protectors

Magazines and assorted papers tend to get beat up when you jam them into a bag, or when you’re fishing around in that bag to find something. For years, I’d eventually succeed in ripping off the cover of any magazine I brought along. But now, to keep papers and magazines organized and tidy, I slide them into plastic sheet protectors. I can see just what’s inside each one: This one has my trip schedule; some extra screen protectors for my phone (which tend to wear out on a long, intense trip); a few of those handy barf bags; and postcard reminding me of my travel motto. Also, did you ever think about how much gross grime and germs live in those seat-back pockets where you stuff your iPad? If you slip it into one of these first…then you never have to.

11. (New Bonus Item) Smartphone Vent Mount

Since I first wrote this list, I discovered the perfect solution for safely using GPS while driving: The Kenu Portable Vent Mount. It grips your phone tightly, and you insert its prongs into the car’s vents. And, since it doesn’t rely on bulky suction cups, it’s impressively compact — about the size of a cigarette lighter. This is also included on my list of Five Electronics Essentials for Traveling in Europe.

UPDATE, December 2022: Things just keep on changing! Since I added the vent mount to this list, I’ve noticed that more and more of the cars I rent have built-in screens that let me plug in my phone and use Google Maps right on the dashboard…making this item unnecessary. However, this vent mount is so tiny that I still tuck it into my bag, just in case I wind up with an older car (which still happens on occasion).

Minimalist packers would say this is all just clutter: “You might not ever need that stuff! And if you do, why not just shop for it in Europe?” But when I’m traveling, every moment is precious. And anytime I have to go on a wild goose chase around a supermarket or department store to find some obscure little item, that’s a museum I didn’t tour, or a gelato I didn’t lick, or a park bench I didn’t get to people-watch from. Each of these items has saved me time, money, stress, or all three. And even if you add them all up, the combined weight and space they take up in my bag is negligible.

What are your favorite clever packing extras?


Affiliate disclosure: I receive not one dime if you purchase any of the items mentioned in this post. Like all of our travel advice at Rick Steves’ Europe, this is based purely on my judgement of what’s best for the traveler.

Be sure to check out a related post: my list of affordable, lightweight, and handy electronics-related items I’d never go to Europe without.

For more practical travel tips — hard-earned from 20 years of being a professional traveler — check out my 10 Europe Travel Hacks and 10 MORE Europe Travel Hacks.

Better yet, review the Travel Tips section on our website, a comprehensive, in-depth collection of tips and advice covering every angle of European travel.

And, if you enjoy my take on travel, be sure to get a copy of my travel memoir, The Temporary European: Lessons and Confessions of a Professional Traveler. It’s a collection of my favorite travel tales from 20-plus years of working with Rick Steves; an inside look at what it’s like to write guidebooks, lead tours, and make travel TV as a living; and, because I’m a travel teacher at heart, plenty of practical advice (like this list) for how to experience Europe like a pro.

European Travel Pet Peeves

After more than 15 years of traveling around Europe for a living, I still enjoy every moment as much as I did on my first trip. Well, almost every moment. The truth is, the more you travel, the more little, random things start to get on your nerves. At the risk of sounding cranky — and with tongue planted firmly in cheek — here are a few things that make me reconsider renewing my passport.

Noisy hotel rooms

We’ve all been there: Late at night or early in the morning, the bar next door disgorges its rowdy customers onto what had been a serene street. Or your neighbors come back from a late dinner and crank up the volume on their TV. Or a prewar elevator grinds its way up the shaft just on the other side of the wall from your bed…and, even with your head burrowed under a pillow, you can feel the gears trundle over each rusty bolt.

I don’t blame hotels for little bumps in the night. But I am an extremely light sleeper…which means that I’m a magnet for unexpected noises. On a recent trip, in one week alone, I had neighbors with thunderous plumbing and small bladders in Santa Margherita Ligure; a midnight bachelorette party on the shared terrace right outside my room in Pisa; and in Salzburg, a next-door neighbor doing a little 7:00 a.m. remodeling project — literally using a power drill on the wall behind my headboard.

Earplugs can only do so much. Side note: When you ask a hotelier for a quiet room, and they smile sweetly and say, “All of our rooms are quiet,” what they really mean is, “None of our rooms are quiet.” And when they say, “We are in the very center, so you have to expect a little noise,” they actually mean, “We totally cheaped out on the windows.”

Blinking lights in a dark hotel room

Speaking of barriers on the road to sleep, it seems every TV in Europe comes standard with an extremely bright little light that cuts through the darkness of a hotel room. Like the steely gaze of HAL 9000, this laser beam pierces deeply into your soul and jolts you awake just as you’re drifting off. (In my MacGyver bag of travel tricks, I carry a little roll of black electrical tape, which makes short work of these unwanted little lights.)

Traveler-unfriendly transportation connections

I understand that local transit is (and should be) designed for local commuters  — not necessarily for travelers. However, in areas where tourism drives the economy, it’s mystifying when the authorities conspire to complicate a simple journey to a comical degree.

On a recent trip to update our Rick Steves Italy guidebook, I ran into a pages-long wall of text about how to connect two popular hill towns: Orvieto and Civita di Bagnoregio. In their wisdom, this tourism-driven corner of Umbria has turned this journey — which should be a simple 30-minute ride — into a farce of Rube Goldberg complexity.

Hundreds of visitors must do this trip every single day. And if they don’t have a car, here’s how they have to do it:

1. In Orvieto, buy a bus ticket at the tabacchi shop 200 yards up the street from the bus stop. (Actually, buy two. I’ll explain why later.)

2. Go to the bus stop. Mind you, this is not the bus stop immediately in front of the funicular station, where every other regional and local bus stops. Nope — this bus uses its own special stop, which is hidden away (I am not making this up) a five-minute, completely un-signed walk away, inside a deserted former military barracks that feels vaguely postapocalyptic.

3. When the bus arrives in the town of Bagnoregio, you have one more chance to buy a return bus ticket, at the tabacchi shop across the street. This is important, because the shop will be closed in the afternoon when you’re ready to head back. Except on Sundays, when of course it’s closed all day. (While the normal price for the ticket is €2.20, you can buy a ticket from the driver…for €7.)

4. Walk 20 minutes through the town of Bagnoregio, pausing at the belvedere in the garden for an amazing view of Civita. But do not — I repeat, do not — walk down the enticing staircase next to the viewpoint. You’ll reach the bottom of the stairs and discover a locked gate. (The real staircase is just over your right shoulder.)

5. Cross the long causeway up to Civita, and enjoy the heck out of the town — having really earned this experience.

6. Walk back down the causeway and 20 minutes back through town to catch the bus back to Orvieto — feeling smug for having already bought your ticket. Just for fun, sit up front so that you can watch the driver have the same conversation with each of the 20 irate tourists who pile on behind you. “What!? Seven euros?”

Did I mention that you have to leave Orvieto by 7:50 in the morning? Because, of course, even though every single bus between Orvieto and Bagnoregio is 100% tourists, this bus does not run between 7:50 and 12:45. (I could not possibly be making this up. Nobody would believe me.)

If you ever wonder why our Italy guidebook tips the scales at 1,250 pages…now you know. If Italy ever standardized its crazy regional transportation system, we could probably print the book on a postcard.

“Non-stop”

Seen all over Europe, this is the international shorthand for “open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.” Or so you’d assume. But I frequently see a “non-stop” place shuttered at night or on a Sunday. So technically it’s not “non-stop” at all…right? (To be fair, “infrequent stops” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.)

Riding a bus to board an airplane

With all of the airport gripes we have in the US, at least once we finally make it to the gate, we know it’s just a matter of walking down the jetway to reach our 17 inches of misery. But at many European airports, there’s yet one more hurdle: cramming onto an overstuffed bus and zipping across runways to some distant fringe of the airport.

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Pulling up to the plane, all of the bus doors open all at once, kicking off a melee of passengers elbowing their way up the stairs to find seats scattered throughout the airplane. (Begin boarding from the back? First class first? People needing additional time or assistance? Forget it.) And then, when you reach your destination, you have to ride another bus to get to the terminal.

This is especially stressful when you have a tight connection — you can’t just burst down the jetway and break into a sprint. No, you have to wait patiently for the entire plane to deboard, fidget nervously as the bus dodges luggage carts across the tarmac, and then make like Usain Bolt once you’re unceremoniously deposited at some mysterious annex of the airport, just past the Z gates.

“Rich breakfast”

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I can’t tell you how many hoteliers — all over Europe — have bragged to me, with a wink, “We have an extremely rich breakfast!” This is clearly a language-barrier problem: They think it means “delicious and full of variety.” But to American ears, it’s more like “a little indigestion and heartburn to start your day.” Appetizing.

Tiny showers with big faucets

Europe is small. Tight streets, tight hotel rooms, tight everything. And normally I don’t mind it. In fact, I believe — philosophically — it’s good for Americans (who are accustomed to having all the room we want) to be reminded that space has value, and we need to be thoughtful about sharing it.

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That said, European showers drive me nuts. The enclosures can be minuscule. And I could deal with that. But all too often, a big chunk is taken out of the middle by a jerry-rigged faucet that pokes way out from the wall. You know what I’m talking about: No matter how careful you are, it jabs into your lower back. And the oversized paddle of a handle is perfectly positioned to catch your elbow every time you turn around — suddenly making the water either volcanic or glacial. And while we’re on the topic of hotel showers…

Liquid soap

It now seems near-universal for hotels to provide a single pump bottle of cheapo, all-purpose “body wash/shampoo/and while we’re at it clothing detergent and dish soap” mixture. (I recently found one that was labeled, simply, “Flowers” — apparently the marketing team took the day off.) For convenience and for environmental reasons, I carry my own shampoo and a big bar of soap. But occasionally I run out, and it’s nice to check in and discover some little individually wrapped itsy-bitsies, or a mini-bottle of shampoo that’s, you know, actually shampoo. However, these have been nudged aside by the liquid soap lobby.

Byzantine pricing

I’m a big fan of straightforward pricing: The burger is $4, add fries for a buck. But many sights in Europe make a hobby of coming up with dozens of different ticketing variations for the same sight.

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Salzburg’s Höhensalzburg Fortress is the worst offender I’ve seen recently. To enter the fortress, you can either hike up, or take the funicular. This could have been so effortlessly simple: The fortress costs €8, add €2 for each ride on the funicular. But no. They have separate discounts for entering the first hour of the day, or an hour before closing time. You can choose whether you want to add on the “Regency Rooms.” You can pay for the funicular one-way (and hike back down) or round-trip. And so on.

Consequently, the ticket desk is a mob scene. When I dropped by to update our guidebook, I assumed all of these people were waiting in line to buy tickets. But then I noticed a wall of bored cashiers, and I realized: No, these customers are puzzling over the comically long ticket menu, trying to make sense of which ticket they want to buy. I have to assume that, to guarantee future employment, the person responsible for pricing created a system so complex that nobody else could ever fully comprehend it. (I actually met one of these people once…but that’s a pet peeve for another time.)

Come on, no reason I should have all the fun — what are your travel pet peeves?


Cranky as this all seems, sometimes these frustrating memories grow fonder in retrospect. This post is part of my “Jams Are Fun” series — about when good trips turn bad, and the journey is better for it. After a lifetime of world travel, upon writing a memoir of her adventures, my wife’s Great-Great-Aunt Mildred chose the title Jams are Fun. Mildred realized that it’s not always the big sights that stick with you the most…it’s those serendipitous moments when things go memorably awry.

If you savor the Schadenfreude of hearing about good trips gone bad, check out the other posts in my “Jams Are Fun” series. How about that time I ran out of gas on Scotland’s remote north coast? Or that time I was stuck on a cruise ship during a churning storm in the North Sea? Or the time I became embroiled in a gelato feud in a small Italian village? Or really the entire experience of driving in Sicily

Hungary’s Top Five Thermal Baths

In my last post, I wrote about my favorite Budapest thermal bath, Széchenyi. But that’s just a drop in the bucket. Budapest has two dozen spas, and Hungary has over a hundred. And, while they all enjoy hundred-degree water, jets, massages, and fanciful architectural flourishes, each one is unique. Hungary’s addictive thermal spas are a slippery slope: If you spend enough time here, you’ll wind up a connoisseur. And after scouring plenty of options — both in the capital and in the countryside — here’s a rundown of my personal favorites. (All of these, and ample tips for how to enjoy any Hungarian thermal bath, are covered in more detail in my Rick Steves Budapest guidebook.)

1. Széchenyi Baths (Budapest)

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This elegant bathhouse in the center of Budapest’s City Park is the undisputed champ. This spa has it all: Grand architecture; indoor and outdoor sections; pools with healthy (read: stinky) minerals, and pools that are all about fun. If you go to just one thermal bath in Hungary, start with Széchenyi. For details, check out my full rundown on the place.

2. Hagymatikum Baths (Makó)

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Tucked in the southern fringe of the country, the town of Makó was the birthplace of Imre Makovecz — the inventor of Hungary’s defining postcommunist architectural style. Before his death in 2011, Makovecz sprinkled his hometown with priceless examples of his distinctive “Organic” style, including the Hagymatikum Baths. This bulging mushroom-shaped hall hides a mind-bending wonderland of hot-water fun.

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In the center of the grand hall, a towering tree trunk stretches up to a starburst skylight in the wood-beam roof.

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A canopy provides cover for the interconnected lower pools — which flow into each other like a lazy river — and also creates a restful upper deck (with napping loungers) where giant Easter Island heads survey the scene.

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Combining unique architecture with modern thermal-bath amenities, Hagymatikum is practically a pilgrimage for both architecture fans and spa lovers.

3. Rudas Baths (Budapest)

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Thanks to a recent rejuvenation, Rudas offers an ideal combination of old and new. At its heart is a mysterious-feeling, 400-year-old Turkish bath — an evocative relic of the bygone Ottoman occupation. Float on your back under the stony dome — light faintly twinkling through the glass-mosaic skylight — and be one with the past. A half-dozen pools let you gingerly step your body temperature up and down — or, if you get overheated, just pull the rope to be doused by a bucketful of frigid water.

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Meanwhile, upstairs in the same building, Rudas’ new “wellness” section is all modern efficiency, with sleekly tiled hot and cold pools, a Danube-view restaurant, and — best of all — an easy-to-miss sundeck where you can soak in a 97-degree hot tub with a panoramic downtown Budapest view. Feeling the bubbles tickle your feet, look out over Budapest’s bridges, where footsore commuters trudge along smoggy highways…and be happy you’re on vacation.

4. Gellért Baths (Budapest)

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Budapest’s swankiest, most famous, and most touristy thermal spa fills one wing of a once-grand hotel. Gellért is a classic. And the baths— decorated with an Art Nouveau flourish — are sparkling after a recent renovation. Once carefully segregated between men and women, Gellért recently opened up its parallel facilities to all. (Enjoying this unprecedented access, bathers quickly discovered that the men’s section is far more beautifully decorated — and hotter — than the women’s section. Hmmm…)

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Gellért feels fancy. Its lobby has the genteel aura of an old museum. Its lap pool fills a colonnaded hall with a skylight. And its two large thermal spa zones are encrusted with colorful mosaics.

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At the spouts where a century’s worth of mineral-rich hot water has trickled into the pools, bulbous lobes hang like prehistoric stalactites.

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While most of the complex feels staid and a little sleepy, Gellért hides its fun outside: A wave pool that thrashes bathers around like driftwood. On a hot day, Gellért’s wave pool is refreshing entertainment.

5. Hévíz Thermal Lake (Hévíz)

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Filling a volcanic crater near the town of Keszthely (two hours southwest of Budapest) is the world’s second-largest thermal lake. Hévíz is continually fed by thermal waters that bubble up from springs a hundred feet below. All of this constant, natural flushing ensures that the lake’s waters refresh completely every two days, and the temperature never drops below about 70°F (and stays closer to 95°F in summer).

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Extremely popular with aging Russians and Germans, the lake’s unique mineral composition is supposedly excellent for easing arthritis, joint pain, and other ailments. When I told a local friend I’d visited Hévíz, he said, “You know the water’s radioactive, right? You’re not supposed to stay in for more than 30 minutes at a time.” Apparently, there can be too much of a good thing.

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From the locker rooms, you’ll tiptoe along wooden walkways to the pavilion in the middle of the lake. There you’ll ease into the waters, then swim out into the lake itself. Rent a pool noodle and slowly paddle your way around the lake.

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Weave between the lily pad lotuses as you glide in slow motion across the tranquil surface. All around you, portly, aching, aging bodies bob in the steamy surf. For those who enjoy being close to nature, Hévíz is the best place in Hungary to simply float like a cork.

Honorable Mention: Salt Hill Thermal Spa (Egerszálok)

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My favorite small town in Hungary, Eger, anchors an arid wine region in the north of the country. About a half-hour outside of Eger, on the outskirts of the winemaking village of Egerszálok, is a series of Pamukkale-like natural travertine pools — nicknamed “Salt Hill.”

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Back in my early days guiding the Rick Steves’ Best of Eastern Europe tour, I enjoyed bringing my groups to an extremely humble little spa here, in the middle of nowhere. It was basically one small round pool, filled with hot water and jammed with locals, with a few wooden cabanas to change in. Far from the gentility of Gellért, it was a perfectly earthy — and memorable — Hungarian spa experience.

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But these days, Salt Hill has gone big time. In 2007, developers took notice of the unique deposits and bucolic setting, and built a sprawling, state-of-the-art spa hotel — being careful not to disturb the natural fortifications that made this place special to begin with.

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Today bathers can enjoy views of the Salt Hill as they frolic in a world of futuristic pools, cascades, and jets.

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With so many ways to have hot-water fun, Hungary is a must for anyone who enjoys slowing down and relaxing while on vacation. Come on in…the water’s perfect!

 


For details on all of these thermal baths, check out our Rick Steves Budapest guidebook.

 

This post was published in 2016.