The Coolest Airbnbs in the City Center of Krakow, Poland

Between Estonia and Lithuania lies the unspoilt parkland of Latvia.

After a summer filled with headlines about iconic European sights buckling under the pressure of overtourism and moronic tourists running amok on the continent, it’s now more obvious than ever that you need to arrive in Europe with a game plan to avoid some of the most crowded situations. 

Most visitors to Central Switzerland base themselves in Lucerne in order to explore the glorious landscape that surrounds it, but don’t forget to make some time for the city itself.

Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania might just be the next big hiking destinations.

Hotels and inns that have been around for decades or centuries often have the sort of charms—and scenic locations—that newer properties lack. “Historic hotels are often in tree-lined historic districts or close to nature,” says Lawrence Horwitz, a spokesperson of Historic Hotels of America, a consortium of these properties.

Switzerland’s largest city may not (yet) draw the crowds of its other Western European counterparts, but it has more than enough of its share of panache to lure travelers and keep them engaged, entertained, and edified. The eminently walkable city, in spite of streets that zig and zag, is also increasingly bike-friendly. To wit: in 2024, Zurich will host Cycle Week, the national biking festival, and serve as the location for the annual Road and Para-Cycling Road World Championships. But you don’t need to ride competitively to enjoy Zurich’s myriad charms—gorgeous waterfront location, historic Old Town, sophisticated shopping, and artsy neighborhoods among them.

Few places are as synonymous with Jewish food as New York City. Manhattan's Lower East Side neighbourhood served as a culinary cauldron when it was home to the largest Jewish community in the world in the late 19th and early 20th Centuries, blending centuries of diasporic gastronomic knowledge.

“Shall we jump in?”

Madame Ziemowit the witch nods and scratches her beard as I flip a tarot card, revealing the chariot symbol. Picking the chariot seems fitting, as the turban-clad sorcerer and I are on a train, having just crossed the border from Germany into Poland. Multicoloured lightbulbs adorn carriage windows, framing a green-blue blur of fields and rivers. Next to us a toddler, sitting in a mini-library by the loo, draws squiggles on an Etch A Sketch. A jaunty brass fanfare plays through the carriage speakers.

One of the fruits of getting on a train is that it makes me want to chat. So instead of gazing at Kent as we proceed to Paris from London, I talk to my neighbour. Martha grew up in San Francisco, studied in Oregon, and puts syrup on everything. When we part ways on the concourse of Gare du Nord – she to lunch with a friend from Wisconsin, me to amble around before continuing towards Turkey – she says the best things about the US are Taylor Swift and meatloaf. It’s good to talk.

Margate doesn’t stay still for long. A streak of seaside nostalgia runs through the Kent town, but this is a place with its focus squarely on the future. Take Dreamland, a retro-themed pleasure park that draws visitors to its vintage carousel and scenic railway (Britain’s oldest roller coaster) as much as its Pride celebrations and a newly installed Banksy mural. Aroseaund the bay, modern art exhibitions rotate through the Turner Contemporary gallery, while kids play with buckets and spades on the beach in its shadow. New openings butt up against the resort’s kiss-me-quick attractions, and nowhere is this more apparent than along the seafront. Amusement arcades and shops selling inflatables squeeze in between microbreweries and cocktail bars, and restaurants serve both cod and chips and miso-battered tofu. 

An Asiatic black bear, which endured severe trauma in a zoo in Russian-occupied Ukraine, is set to be adopted by a zoo in Scotland.