Here you can browse through my blog posts prior to February 2022. Currently I'm sharing my travel experiences, candid opinions, and what's on my mind solely on my Facebook page. — Rick
Over the years, I’ve made several trips to developing countries specifically to learn about why, in a world of such abundance, people go hungry.
I’m privileged in so many ways. I live in a rich and highly developed country. If I’m hungry, I go to the supermarket. If I need water, I turn on the faucet. When I’m sick, I go to the doctor. And my children enjoyed a fine education. Meanwhile, almost a billion people get none of that. It’s like we live on two different planets. And it’s so easy for privileged people — people like me — to ignore this reality.
In my new one-hour special “Hunger and Hope: Lessons from Ethiopia and Guatemala”, I share with you what I learned from locals and experts about key aspects of extreme poverty and how to beat it. Together, we’ll witness the importance of water, education, empowering women, and nutrition during a child’s first 1,000 days.
We’ll see firsthand the impact of globalization and the effects of climate change. And with the help of innovative solutions and smart development aid, world hunger has been cut in half in the last generation.
“Hunger and Hope: Lessons from Ethiopia and Guatemala” — 5 minutes of desperation and 55 minutes of hope — is airing now on public television across the country (check your local listings), or you can stream the full hour online.
I’ve always wanted to produce a show that explores the key aspects of extreme poverty — ever since I first visited Central America and got a perspective-shattering peek into the daily lives of the more than 700 million people on our planet who live on less than $2 a day. For the past few years, my crew and I have been hard at work to capture on camera the inspiring people and committed organizations dealing with this reality, so different from most Americans’ own privileged existence. And now, our TV special is ready for prime time: “Hunger and Hope: Lessons from Ethiopia and Guatemala” will be available for streaming on our website Wednesday, February 5. In the coming weeks, it’ll air on public television stations across the country (check your local listings).
My goal was to distill into one hour the most important lessons in the fight against hunger: What does extreme poverty look like, what’s causing it, and what are the most effective ways to overcome it? I wanted to take a deep dive into innovative solutions, like improving access to clean water, ensuring proper nutrition during a child’s critical first thousand days, providing a good education, and empowering women to be leaders in their communities.
I also wanted to show why smart development aid is a good and practical investment. In Guatemala, one example was Pedro’s snow peas. Pedro used to toil as a low-paid worker on a coffee plantation. With help from an NGO, Pedro gained firm title to his land, where he now grows his lucrative crop. (People in Guatemala don’t eat snow peas, but Pedro knows that they’ll fly off the shelves in England). And in Ethiopia, Abadi has been able to turn his farm animals’ droppings into fuel for cooking (which means he no longer needs to burn wood for fuel) and fertilizer (which means his family will be fed and he’ll have extra harvest to sell at the market) — all thanks to smart development.
Ending hunger is possible. We can do it because we care, or we can do it because it’ll make our world more stable. Or we can do it for both reasons. With “Hunger and Hope: Lessons from Ethiopia and Guatemala,” I hope that you’ll learn as much from these inspiring stories as I have.
Enjoy my preview and check your local listing for air dates in your city.
As a child traveling in Europe, I met a piano player who was a concentration camp survivor. I remember watching the serial number tattooed on his wrist sliding in and out of his sleeve as he played. He told me stories of his experience…stories that I would never forget.
The evils of fascism were incremental. As its small evils became big evils, German society managed to be oblivious to its own atrocities. At first, concentration camps contained people who didn’t conform. Then, they became forced labor camps. Eventually, the Nazis built death camps — which were located outside of Germany and therefore farther from public view. With what the Nazis called the “Final Solution,” the entire Jewish population was targeted for extermination. In total, approximately 6 million Jews died from Nazi persecution. 2.7 million of those died in death camps.
Today, I believe history is speaking to us. As a historian and tour guide, I hear it, and I embrace the challenge of sharing its lessons.
Let us learn from the Holocaust and never let it be repeated.
It’s my favorite time of year when I host my European tour guides here at the Rick Steves’ home base for Test Drive a Tour Guide. While they’re in town, I’ll be taking advantage of their travel expertise by recording radio interviews with them from January 22–29.
I plan to record about 50 new interviews all focused on Europe; our topics will include updates on countries from Iceland and Poland to Spain and Croatia. We’ll enjoy fascinating conversations ranging from a paprika primer in Hungary to the perfect week in Portugal. We’ll delve into Turkish food and Scottish identity in the UK. We’ll get practical tips on managing a Vatican visit, enjoying Basque culture and much, much more.
Want to be a part of the conversation? We’d love to hear your travel tales and answer your travel questions. For a chance to join us on the air, please take a look at our recording lineup and submit your questions.
And, if you’d like to eavesdrop on the raw and crazy production as it happens, be sure to head back to our recording lineup during the scheduled times and click “Listen Live.” (The edited interviews will air over the next year on public radio and in our weekly podcasts.)
I hope you can join us — as we celebrate European travel with the best guides in the business in our studio.
On New Year’s Day 2020, Rick Steves’ Europe lost one of our oldest and dearest friends: Walter Mittler, who ran Hotel Mittaghorn in Gimmelwald, Switzerland. Walter, who was in his mid-90s, died peacefully in the hotel that was his home for the last half of his life, in a tiny village surrounded by the wonder of the Swiss Alps.
Gimmelwald is that pristine alpine village that inspired me to say (on my first visit, in my student backpacker days), “If heaven isn’t what it’s cracked up to be…send me back to Gimmelwald.” For four decades, a big part of the heavenly nature of Gimmelwald was Walter’s welcome.
I’ve long said that my passion as a guidebook writer is to connect people with people, and that my favorite hotels and restaurants are the ones that are “personality-driven.” There was no hotel more “personality-driven” than Walter’s Hotel Mittaghorn. In fact, by the power of Walter’s passion to house and feed travelers and nature lovers affordably in the pricey Swiss Alps, his hotel was generally known as “Walter’s Hotel”…or even simply “Walter’s.” For decades, when travelers said they stayed at Walter’s, it was the kickoff of a fun sharing of memories and stories about the conviviality and good food that sprung from that humble mountain chalet and its host.
Hotel Mittaghorn, aka “Walter’s Hotel”. From these balconies many Alpine memories were created.
Walter was a chef for Swiss Air. When his aunt got emphysema, he changed gears and moved up to Hotel Mittaghorn—taking his aunt with him into the high country for the healthier air.
Back when I was a budding tour operator, Walter was the hotelier who nudged me from my rustic youth hostel days to seeking out characteristic guesthouses that sparkled with the personality of their hosts. I’ll never forget the day in the late 1970s when I checked my little tour group into our rustic Gimmelwald hostel and found a handwritten invitation to hike up the hill to visit Hotel Mittaghorn. From then on, Walter’s was our home in Gimmelwald. For the next couple decades of tours, we’d book out his entire hotel — filling all of his rooms and sending our overflow (the most rugged of our tour members) up the creaky stairs to his top-floor Matratzenlager (mattress dorm).
I’d wake early and step outside with Walter. He’d look skyward and give me the yea or nay in regards to the weather. If it was a “nay,” we’d slumber on. If it was a “yea,” I’d rouse the entire group and we’d hustle to the lift and ride to the summit of the Schilthorn.
Walter’s menu was simple: Today – chicken, Tomorrow – spaghetti. Each morning, you just flip the board over: Today – spaghetti, Tomorrow – chicken.
Walter simplified his life as the years went on. Eventually his menu was a board with two sides: The first night was spaghetti, and on the second night, he’d flip it over to chicken and vegetables. The salad was always fresh, picked hours earlier from his garden. Walter and I invented a “traditional” drink we called “the Heidi Cocoa” (hot chocolate and schnapps). It was a bestseller — especially when the local farmer with the accordion would drop by after dinner for dancing. With faces sunburned from our hikes, and smiling big from the high-altitude ambiance Walter created after dark, we’d cap our days in Walter’s dining room creating lifelong memories.
When I visited one winter for skiing, Walter surprised me with an invitation to sled down from Mürren (the next town above). It occurred to me that, after a decade of friendship, I’d never seen Walter out of his hotel. With a boyish smile, suddenly about 40 years younger, he put on his headlamp and grabbed me and his antique wooden sleds. We rode the lift up to Mürren, then gleefully sledded the trail — iced into what was closer to a luge course — back down to Gimmelwald…capping the fun with a nice Heidi Cocoa.
I don’t think Walter could live anywhere else but at Hotel Mittaghorn. And I think the opportunity to help house and feed travelers is what got him out of bed, long after that had become a struggle. Walter ran the hotel (with the necessary help of his right-hand-man, trusty Tim) longer than what was probably best for his guests. For the last decade, he shuffled more, muttered more, had a harder time with the stairs, and refused to join the computer age. But his passion for hospitality and travel and his good nature stayed fresh as the snow on the trees that surrounded him each winter.
While the consummate host, Walter was also the village loner in many ways — and very modest. He left a simple will asking that his ashes be placed in a common, nameless grave in the nearby town of Thun. And with that, Walter is gone.
I believe that heaven is what it’s cracked up to be. And now, a little piece of Gimmelwald has made it even better. Walter, thanks for the joy you brought so many travelers. Bless your beautiful soul.
For decades, as travelers fell in love with the Swiss Alps, Walter Mittler put a roof over their head.
