Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, November 2021
Stretched over two chairs atop the skinny passenger deck of a 10-car ferry as it shuttles across Lago di Como, I look south into the haze of Italy. I’m savoring the best of my favorite country with none of the chaos and intensity that are generally part of the Italian experience. Looking north, into a crisp alpine breeze, I see snowcapped Alps.
I’m just minutes from Switzerland ... but it’s clear I’m in Italy. The ferry workers are Italian, with that annoying...
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Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, November 2021
En route to Dachau’s infamous concentration camp, I sit next to an old German woman on the city bus. I smile at her weakly as if to say, “I don’t hold your people’s genocidal atrocities against you.”
She glances at me and sneers down at my camera. Suddenly, surprising me with her crusty but fluent English, she rips into me. “You tourists come here not to learn but to hate,” she seethes.
Pulling the loose skin down from a long-ago strong...
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This article appears in our Print Edition, November 2021 -- Page 26
As we’ve had to postpone our travels because of the pandemic, I believe an occasional dose of travel dreaming can be good medicine. Here’s one of my favorite European memories from Finland — a reminder of the fun that awaits us at the other end of this crisis.
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I’m in Helsinki, surveying the city from its fanciest rooftop restaurant. The setting sun glints off the cruise ships in the harbor as fish merchants take down...
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Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, October 2021
Strolling through Copenhagen, I come upon a parade: ragtag soldiers-against-conformity dressed in black making their way through the bustling, modern downtown. They walk solemnly behind a WWII vintage truck blasting Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in The Wall.” I’ve never really listened to the words until now.
These “soldiers” are fighting a rising tide of conformity. They want to raise their children to be free spirits, not cogs. Painted onto their...
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Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, October 2021
On Sunday mornings in Paris, I enjoy Mass in St. Sulpice, a church with perhaps Europe’s finest pipe organ. While I’m surrounded by towering vaults, statues of saints, and centuries of tradition, it’s the music that sends me. The spiritual sails of St. Sulpice have been filled for two centuries by its 6,600-pipe organ. Organists from around the world come to Paris just to hear this organ.
As the first Mass of the morning finishes, half the crowd remains seated as the...
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Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, October 2021
I am terrible at foreign languages. Despite traveling around Europe four months a year since I was a kid, I can barely put a sentence together anywhere east or south of England. But with some creative communication, I manage just well enough to write guidebooks, produce TV shows, and enjoy Europe on vacation. And nowhere do I have more fun communicating than in Italy.
Because Italians are so outgoing and their language is such fun, interactions are a pleasure. Italians have an...
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Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, October 2021
Guzelyurt, in the region of Cappadocia in rural Turkey, is a town that has changed little over the centuries. Exploring it, I hike steeply down into a ravine, winding through a community in the rough — where the chores of daily life seemed stuck in the Middle Ages. Then, climbing up to a hilltop perch marking the end of town, I survey the view and marvel how the honey that holds this architectural baklava together is the community of people who live here — and the traditions they...
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Rick Steves' Europe Supplemental
This article appears in our Online Edition, October 2021
Alentejo is a vast and arid land — the bleak interior of Portugal, where cork seems to be the dominant industry.
The rolling hills are covered with stubby cork trees. With their bark peeled away, they remind me of St. Bartolomeo, the martyr who was skinned alive. Like him, these trees suffer in silence.
The people of Alentejo are uniformly short. They seem to look at tourists with suspicion and are the butt of jokes in this corner of Europe. Libanio, my guide, circles the...
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