In 2022, as travel resumed, I made it back to lots of famous places: London, Rome, Amsterdam, Dubrovnik. The Matterhorn, the Scottish Highlands, the hill towns of Tuscany. But, as usual, many of my favorite experiences came in lesser-known corners of Europe — underappreciated places that exceed expectations when it comes to creating beautiful memories.
As a refresher: My annual “Discoveries” list is one traveler’s arbitrary rundown of places I’ve been to recently (mainly in 2022) that may not already appear on many itineraries. These are just ten of the hundreds of such places, all over Europe — meant not as any sort of definitive “best of” list, but simply to inspire you to go beyond the Londons, Parises, and Romes when planning your 2023 travels. In fact, I’d love it if you shared your own favorite finds in the comments.
And if you’d like to see previous years’ lists, here are the Discoveries for 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 — all still great choices. (I skipped the Discoveries in 2022…not wanting to jinx what, a year ago, felt like a tenuous time to travel.)
Sarajevo, Bosnia-Herzegovina
Imagine a bustling city in a stunning setting — tucked in the deep valley of a gurgling river, surrounded by green hills. It has a dynamic history as a crossroads of civilizations, where you can visit a Catholic church, an Eastern Orthodox church, a mosque, and a synagogue, all within a couple of blocks. One part of town feels like a Turkish bazaar, with riverstone cobbles underfoot, the sound of tapping coppersmith hammers, the smell of sweet hookah smoke, and the haze of grilling meat hanging heavy in the air. And then, just a few steps away, you enter a tidy Habsburg street plan with proud turn-of-the-century architecture, parks, and boulevards.
This city also has a delicious culinary tradition of delectably seasoned meats, decadently spreadable cheeses, and crispy savory pastries cooked under a metal baking lid covered with hot coals…not to mention unfiltered coffee and honey-soaked treats (think baklava). Oh, and the locals are incredibly welcoming, easygoing, and quick to befriend visitors, and they have fascinating life stories to share.
Now imagine that this place has next to no American tourists.
This is not a fantasy; it’s Sarajevo. With each return visit, I simply can’t fathom why so few travelers have discovered what may well be the most underrated capital city in Europe.
Returning this fall, I discovered a new hole-in-the-wall shop on the main drag that specializes in just one perfect dish: First, they pull a puffy lepinje flatbread pocket straight out of the oven. Then they slather it with the soft cheese kajmak, which begins to melt and fill in all the little grooves. You can pay a bit extra to stuff it with flavorful smoked beef…a delicious mobile feast. Walking down the street, munching one of my favorite meals of the trip (if not the year), it occurred to me that, on top of everything else, Sarajevo might be one of the best “street foodie” destinations in Europe.
Sarajevo has a new fancy hotel downtown, and it recently opened a cable car that trundles visitors to the mountaintop high above town for sweeping views. Those are nice upgrades, but they’re just gilding the lily of what’s already one of travel’s great cities. Someday Sarajevo will start to get the attention it deserves. But in the meantime, it’s cheap, uncrowded, and endlessly rewarding.
Richmond, London, England
During the dark days of the pandemic, like a lot of people, I took solace in binge-watching TV. One of the shows I found most uplifting was Ted Lasso, the story of an insistently upbeat American football coach transplanted to the UK to manage a soccer squad. Richmond may not be a real team, but it absolutely is a real place — a sleepy bedroom community just outside London. And on a sunny weekend in February, I went to Richmond on a lark, just to see if I recognized anything from the show. Sure enough, I found myself standing on that adorable, perfectly British square, with a pair of red telephone boxes; a classic half-timbered pub with sturdy picnic tables out front; narrow, shop-lined alleys leading every which way; and facing an expansive green packed with people out for a stroll. During the pandemic, when I closed my eyes and dreamt of being back in Britain…this was the place I imagined.
It was a small thrill to find the door to “Ted’s apartment,” and to step into his local pub. But if I’m being honest, I quickly forgot all about that fictional world…and enjoyed exploring the real one. One of my all-time favorite moments of 2022 was simply sitting on a bench at Richmond Green, watching dogs chase tennis balls.
For me, Richmond illustrates two things: First, Britain has hundreds of charming little communities that are worth poking around for an hour or two. This one just happens to star on a TV show. And second, I just love it when I go someplace for some random reason — in this case, because I saw it onscreen — and wind up loving it for its own sake. So on your next trip, make a point to find “your” Richmond… whether or not it’s actually Richmond.
Upper Engadine and Nearby Scenic Rail Lines, Switzerland
To be clear: I’m not saying that the Upper Engadine is somehow better than, say, the Berner Oberland, or Zermatt and the Matterhorn. But this remote, rugged corner of Graubünden, in the southeast corner of Switzerland, was perhaps the biggest (and nicest) surprise of my late-summer guidebook research trip. The most famous place here is the glitzy, soulless, skippable resort of St. Moritz. Instead, stay in nearby Pontresina and have a grand ol’ time riding lifts to lofty panoramic perches (Piz Nair, Muottas Muragl, Alp Languard) and exploring stony traditional villages (like Samedan).
The Upper Engadine’s other claim to fame is its position at the intersection of two world-famous scenic rail journeys, the Glacier Express and the Bernina Express. I did both of those trips, too. And if I’m being honest, eight-plus hours — even a super-scenic train — is a lot. Here’s a pro tip: Based in Pontresina, you could do only the very best bits of both journeys, a couple of hours in each direction, then come right back home. This efficient approach lets you conquer two of the most astonishing high-alpine rail lines in the world, each a feat of late-19th-century engineering: the Bernina Pass (to the south, toward Italy) or the Albula Pass (north, toward Chur). With stone bridges that soar hundreds of feet above yawning valleys, ingenious circular viaducts that loop 360 degrees to dispense with the need for cogwheels, and peek-a-boo views of snowcapped, 14,000-foot peaks and receding glaciers, Pontresina gives you easy access to what may be the most stunning train trips in Europe, mile per mile.
As a bonus, for those on a tight budget, most Upper Engadine accommodations provide a sightseeing card that covers all local transport — including those thrilling (but pricey) mountain lifts. This basically doubles the value of what you pay for your lodgings (but make sure they include it before you book). Maybe this is yet another reason why most of my fellow hikers were active Swiss retirees rather than the Insta-glam jet set.
The Jordaan, Amsterdam, The Netherlands
In the middle of an intense, seven-week trip of tour guiding and guidebook research, I had a three-day weekend to relax and recover. The place I chose was Amsterdam — and specifically, the Jordaan, a residential neighborhood of tidy grid-planned blocks, traditional skinny houses, funky shops, and local restaurants. I found the perfect apartment, in the attic of a family home — with crooked, creaking funhouse floors and dramatically angled rafters. To reach my room, I had to climb two staircases so steep they were practically ladders. And when I opened the window and saw a pair of bikes brrrring-brrrring-ing past on the idyllic street scene below, I knew I’d found the perfect getaway.
One morning, I woke up to discover an utterly delightful weekend street market (two of them, actually) sprawling through the lanes and squares near my apartment. Another time I rode a tram to Vondelpark and rented a bike to pedal with the Amsterdammers in a lush, green oasis. On several occasions, I window-shopped the delightful nearby restaurant streets (with the even-more-delightful names Eerste Anjeliersdwarsstraat and Tweede Anjeliersdwarsstraat) and took my pick from the incredible variety of places to eat.
One thing I did not do, a single time, on this visit to Amsterdam? Complain about the touristy crowds. Because the Jordaan let me avoid them entirely.
Trieste, Italy
The Italian port city of Trieste has an identity crisis like no place else. Today it’s part of Italy — but just barely, connected by an umbilical cord of land just wide enough for a railroad and a highway. It’s almost entirely surrounded by Slovenia, whose parched karstic cliffs rise up like a stone curtain just behind the city. Complicating matters, most of today’s Trieste was built not by Italians or Slovenes, but by Austrians and Hungarians, who transformed this humble settlement into their primary trade port and shipbuilding center…with grandiose buildings that would feel more at home on Vienna’s Ringstrasse or Budapest’s Andrássy út, rather than a few steps from Adriatic embankments. This is the kind of place where you need a conspiracy-type diagram, with red yarn crisscrossing thumbtacked photos and maps, just to figure out who controlled it, and who lived here, and when, and why.
And yet, all of that complexity melts away when you actually set foot here. Trieste is hard to characterize, but the main thing is that it’s simply lovely: a grand, imperial-feeling city with a sunny seafront embankment, shot through with faded elegance (from fin-de-siècle coffee houses to aristocratic villas), and with more than its share of fascinating history. Choosing between Austrian pork cutlets, Italian pastas, and Slovenian jota (turnip stew) and potica nut-roll cakes on the same menu, you know you’re at a nexus of history. As someone with a passion for Habsburg history, for Slovenia, and for Italy, I knew I’d find Trieste interesting. But I wasn’t prepared to enjoy it as much as I did.
Side-note: I’m not entirely sure whether I went to Trieste because I read Jan Morris’ riveting Trieste and the Meaning of Nowhere, or if I read her book because I was going to Trieste — but either way, it reminded me how “bringing along” a great author or historian with you, on any trip, immeasurably deepens your appreciation of a place. And Trieste is a twofer, since James Joyce lived here while writing most of Ulysses (as documented in a lovable local museum). This is fitting, when you consider how a cacophony of languages and cultures fills the streets of Trieste — just like in the pages of that masterpiece.
Glasgow, Scotland
Every time I go back to Glasgow, I like it even better. And this summer, I had plenty of time to think about why…when I got stuck there for several extra days after contracting COVID. But actually, I can think of few better places to just sit around and recover.
I owe this — and my general good feelings about the city — to the Glaswegians. They’re kind and generally good-natured, but also wicked-smart and fiendishly funny. They have a penchant for knocking important city leaders down a peg by crowning their statues with orange traffic cones. The city has some of the most beautiful, most wildly creative, most satirically incisive street art I’ve seen anywhere.
As an indication of how endearingly salt-of-the-earth Glasgow is, its single best museum (in a city with lots of great ones) may just be the old tenement house whose resident moved out in 1975 after not having changed a thing in five decades — and they’ve left it perfectly preserved to this day, a fascinating time warp of midcentury, middle-class lifestyles.
Sure, the city center lacks the Old World romance of Edinburgh. (It reminds me of Cincinnati or Indianapolis, with fewer high-rises, more interesting architecture, and an infinitely more entertaining accent.) But I’m drawn to the West End, the posh yet hip residential district that’s a short bus, subway, or taxi ride away. Surrounding the U. of Glasgow campus are green parklands, lively traditional music pubs, and cozy streets lined with endlessly browsable restaurants and shops. On this visit, stepping off the subway, I bumped into a fascinating mural celebrating the many different people who call this corner of Scotland home. Mesmerized, I couldn’t pull myself away for about 15 minutes.
The next time I wind up getting stuck in Europe…I hope it’s in a place as nice, and as engaging, as Glasgow.
Pelješac Wine Country, Dalmatian Coast, Croatia
The Pelješac (PELL-yeh-shawts) Peninsula is a long, skinny spit of land poking out into the Adriatic Sea just north of Dubrovnik, on Croatia’s Dalmatian Coast. It’s always been an off-the-beaten-path destination for wine lovers who’ve done their homework. But in 2022, Pelješac came closer to the mainstream overnight, when they finally opened a brand-new bridge that routes most traffic right along its base.
In October, I spent a fun and fascinating day with a local wine expert (Sasha Lušić, who runs the D’Vino Wine Bar in Dubrovnik) to get my guidebook coverage up to snuff for the coming onslaught of visitors. We visited Ston to ogle its beefy fortifications and vast salt pans; we pulled over along a sleepy bay to slurp fresh oysters, pulled straight from the Adriatic, and washed down with a local sparkling white wine; and, best of all, we dropped in on a half-dozen different wineries, lovingly handpicked by Sasha.
I was especially charmed by Anto Grgurević, who holds advanced degrees in viniculture. Anto is determined to combine academic research with hands-on sweat equity to advance the art of Croatian winemaking. He has reintroduced some classic traditional vines — once used extensively here, but long since forgotten — even as he experiments with doing old things in new ways. (He’s the first in the region to make an amber wine, using a naturally occurring “albino” grape.)
After our tasting, Anto said “Follow me,” hopped in his car, and drove us deep into the peninsula’s interior to his family’s vineyard. Donning a comically large sombrero to shield himself from the glaring sun (good for the grapes, less so for the eyes), he walked us through the vines, pointing out the different types of grapes here and there, each matched perfectly to the precise microclimate of that patch of land.
Looking out over the hillsides where his ancestors toiled, Anto grew philosophical. “I’ve only got about 25 vintages in my life,” he said. “That really only gives me a few years to experiment and figure out how to make the best possible wine. Then I’ll spend the rest of my life cranking it out.”
Then he said, with a wink: “The best vines, you plant for your kids and your grandkids.”
Oh, and the wines? The wines are sensational.
Toruń, Poland
This gorgeous, red-brick town — cute as a fairy tale, and famous for its gingerbread and for native son Nicholas Copernicus — has always been a personal favorite. But I’ve always suspected my affinity for Toruń was somehow idiosyncratic, because I almost never see (non-Polish) travelers here.
Then, this May, I headed up a team of Polish guides to lead the first-ever departure of our new Rick Steves Best of Poland tour…and I’ll be darned if every single person in our group didn’t utterly fall in love with Toruń, too. The next morning, as we were pulling out from our one-night stay, there was practically a mutiny on the bus to call off the rest of our itinerary and just stick around Toruń.
Toruń has no world-class sights. There aren’t many, if any, museums or churches worth entering. But I’ve rarely been to a place that’s more delightfully strollable. It has cozy red-brick buildings, grand interlocking squares, broad traffic-free promenades, stately churches with prickly spires…and the whole city smells like gingerbread.
After our hands-on gingerbread-making demonstration, we oriented our group for their free evening. Our best advice: “Just walk down this street until you run out of pretty things to look at. Then come back.” A couple of hours later, I followed my own advice and went for a twilight stroll. Reaching the far end of the Old Town, I heard a raucous echo through an otherwise empty square…and followed that noise to an outdoor restaurant where about half of our tour group was having their favorite meal of the trip.
And that’s the kind of place Toruń is: Not much to see. Not much to do. But a wonderful place to simply be.
Modena and Emilia-Romagna, Italy
Italian food is, of course, delicious. But what if I told you there was a place in Italy that Italians — from the scalps of the Alps to the toe of the “boot” — unanimously agree has the best food anywhere?
Back in 2021, I spent much of the year putting together an ambitious project: a brand-new, full-color, region-by-region handbook to Italian cuisine called Rick Steves Italy for Food Lovers (which just hit bookshelves everywhere). One of the hazards of that project was that our co-author, renowned Italian food expert Fred Plotkin, makes foodies like me desperately want to visit every corner of Italy.
In particular, I got caught up in Fred’s enthusiasm for the region of Emilia-Romagna. This is where you find some of the most quintessentially delicious Italian foods: luxurious pastas, especially filled ones; some of Italy’s top salumi, from mortadella to prosciutto di Parma; and, of course aceto balsamico tradizionale and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese — don’t you dare call them “balsamic vinegar” or “parmesan.”
After months of salivating at my desk, I just had to see this place for myself. So when my wife and I finally returned to Europe in the fall of 2021, we included a couple of days in Emilia-Romagna. We had world-class meals in Bologna, Parma, and Ferrara, and we spent two nights in Modena. The food was, if possible, even better than promised. The tortellini in brodo at that sidewalk café in Parma immediately shot to the top of our “best pastas ever” list, even as it redefined what pasta could be.
But we also adored the livable cities, which combined a certain elegance with a user-friendly unfussiness. And Modena in particular got under our skin, as the perfect home base. There are no important sights in town; to be honest, I never set foot in a museum or church. But we never tired of exploring its streets and squares.
And, of course, Modena also provided many memorable meals. One Sunday evening, I kept striking out when my first through fifth choices for dinner were closed. My “last resort” — a desperation play — wound up providing me with one of my best meals of the trip.
That’s Modena…and Emilia-Romanga. It’s no wonder that Tuscans, Romans, Lombards, and Sicilians all love to eat here.
Stopping to Listen to the Church Bells…Anywhere
Looking back on 2022, this was a year when I simply enjoyed being back in Europe — anywhere, doing anything, often doing nothing at all. During those two long years stuck at home, I had plenty of time to reflect on what I love best about travel — especially as I was assembling my travel memoir, The Temporary European. In that book, I explain the conclusion I reached: The best experiences in Europe are, so often, not the big sights and famous attractions. Rather, they are those precious moments in between that stick with you long after you’ve returned home.
I present this in terms of “stopping to listen to the church bells” — no matter how busy you are. But it can take many other forms. Maybe it’s sitting on a park bench on Richmond Green, watching people and their dogs enjoy a sunny day. Chatting with a Croatian vintner about his ancestral responsibility and his contemporary passion. Doing a little “street grazing” in Sarajevo. Getting lost in the heavenly gingerbread allure of Toruń. Browsing an Amsterdam street market.
Where are you going in 2023? It doesn’t matter. Go where you like. But when you get there, don’t spend your time racing from place to place, adhering to an ambitious itinerary. Make a point to stop — literally stand still — and, even if for just a moment, take it all in. Notice the little details of everyday life you’ve always missed. Eavesdrop on conversations…and if you have something to add, interject. Imagine what it might be like to actually live in that place. And if you hear the church bells chime…listen.
Where are you headed in 2023? Any favorite discoveries from 2022 you’d like to share?
If you enjoyed this list, and would like to browse some others, check out my Discoveries for 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021.
Most of my travels in 2022 were to update our Rick Steves guidebooks. Many of those new, fully-updated-post-COVID editions (including Italy, London, Scotland, and many more) are now available at our Rick Steves Travel Store; the rest are coming soon in 2023.
If you enjoy these stories, check out my travel memoir, The Temporary European: Lessons and Confessions of a Professional Traveler. You can find it at your favorite local bookstore, online at the Rick Steves Travel Store, or as an e-book (such as the Kindle edition).
