Rick Steves' Europe

Visiting Vesuvius and Pompeii

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 17 May 2012 00:00:00 PST

The ancient city of Pompeii — famously ruined in A.D. 79 when mighty Mount Vesuvius blew its top — is one of Italy’s most popular tourist attractions. Few visitors make it to the top of the towering volcano, but those who do enjoy a commanding view.

You can get to Vesuvius with a train/bus/hike journey. You start by riding a rickety but reliable commuter train from Naples or Sorrento (because it circles under Vesuvius, the train is called the Circumvesuviana). From the Pompeii stop, a shuttle van takes you up the volcano to the end of the road. From there, it’s a steep 30-minute hike to the desolate, lunar-like summit.

Belly up to the crater’s edge. Steaming vents are a reminder that while Vesuvius is quiet today, it’s just taking a geological nap. The last eruption was in 1944, and it’s only a matter of when, not if, it will erupt again. Italian authorities close Vesuvius to visitors when they think the volcano is acting too frisky.

A hike around the crater’s lip comes with spectacular vistas of Naples, its sweeping bay, and Pompeii. Be still. Listen to the wind and the occasional cascade of rocks tumbling into the crater. As you observe wisps of smoldering steam, imagine the scene nearly 2,000 years ago, when Vesuvius sent a mushroom cloud of ash, dust, and rocks 12 miles into the sky. For 18 hours straight, spewed ash settled like a heavy snow on Pompeii. Most of the city’s 20,000 residents fled as roofs and floors began collapsing.

But then, suddenly, the eruption changed. A red-hot avalanche of rock and ash raced down the mountainside at nearly 100 miles per hour. Pompeii and the 2,000 unlucky souls who had stayed behind were buried, leaving their bodies encased in volcanic debris. As the bodies decomposed, they left hollow spaces. Centuries later, archaeologists detected these spaces and gently filled them with plaster, creating molds that chillingly capture their anguished last moments.

Today, ongoing excavations of once booming Pompeii offer the best look anywhere at ancient Roman life. Back then, Rome controlled the entire Mediterranean Sea, and Pompeii was an important, big port town. Not rich, not poor, Pompeii was middle class. And because it was a port, it was a sailor's quarter, with lots of bars, public baths, brothels, restaurants, and places of entertainment.

The best way to understand Pompeii is to walk the site; the entry fee is $15 (for a free audio tour of the site, see www.ricksteves.com/audioeurope). In good Roman style, the city was well organized, contained by its walls with a grid street plan. Back in antiquity, most of Pompeii’s streets would have been lined with stalls and jammed with customers from sunup to sundown. Chariots vied with shoppers for street space.

There were no posh neighborhoods in Pompeii. The well-off and not-so-well-off mixed it up as elegant houses existed side by side with simpler homes. Pompeii’s best-preserved dwelling is the House of the Vetti, the home of a wealthy merchant. If it’s open, step into its atrium for a peek at the typical layout of a mansion. Richly frescoed entertainment rooms ring the central courtyard, where a formal garden surrounds a pool with water, meant to bring a feeling of freshness.

One of Pompeii’s most impressive aspects is how abundant water was. In this well-plumbed city, lead pipes funneled water from an aqueduct-fed reservoir at the high end of town directly to neighborhood water tanks. With the tanks installed just below the level of the reservoir, gravity did the work — and ensured good water pressure. Fountains provided a social center at street intersections, and a steady stream of water flushed the chariot-rutted streets clean. Pompeii’s citizens enjoyed relaxing at its impressive public baths.

For archaeologists, Pompeii was a shake-and-bake windfall. They first got to work at the site back in the 1700s — before Italy was united. The local king who ruled from Naples demanded: “Bring me the best of whatever you find!” That’s why, as impressive as the ancient city is, the finest art and artifacts of Pompeii ended up back in Naples, at the National Museum of Archaeology.

For lovers of antiquity, this museum by itself makes Naples a worthwhile stop. Considering how important the collection is, it’s remarkable how ramshackle the displays are. But look past the dust bunnies — the museum offers the best possible peek into the art of Pompeii. The collection ranges from grand statuary and exquisite mosaics to the most intimate details of everyday life. All the artifacts are a testament to the ultimate irony of Vesuvius: Even as the volcano’s fury destroyed Pompeii, it also preserved most of what the world knows about this ancient town.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

Preparing for Your European Adventure

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 10 May 2012 00:00:00 PST

Going to Europe is exciting, but can be stressful, too. By arranging a few things while you’re still at home, you'll greatly increase your chances of having a smooth, enjoyable European vacation.

Check your passport. Is it due to expire soon? You may be denied entry into certain countries if your passport will expire within three to six months of your ticketed date of return. Get it renewed if you’ll be cutting it close.

Stash photocopies of important travel documents. Whether at home or abroad, anybody can experience unexpected problems from loss or theft. If you have a copy of a valuable document, it’s easier to replace the original. In fact, make two sets of photocopies of your passport and railpass or car-rental voucher. (For debit and credit cards, just record the numbers, rather than photocopy them.) Pack one copy and leave the other with a buddy at home, to be faxed or emailed to you in case of an emergency. I hide my copy in a second money belt clipped into the bottom of my luggage (don’t tell anyone).

Contact your debit- and credit-card companies. Prior to your trip, call your bank and credit-card company to let them know which countries you'll be visiting. This will ensure that they don’t decline foreign transactions. While you have them on the line, confirm your debit card's daily withdrawal limit, request an increase if you want, and ask about fees for international transactions.

Arrange your transportation. Buy tickets for any flights you might need to take within Europe as early as possible, since the cheapest seats sell out fast. Train travelers should decide whether it makes sense to buy a railpass (these cover trips in one or more countries for a set number of days); if so, you'll need to buy it before you leave the US. If you plan to take the Eurostar between London and Paris, book tickets far ahead for the best fares.

If you're renting a car, your driver’s license is all you need in most places, but some countries, including Austria, Greece, Italy, and Spain, also require an International Driving Permit. While that’s the letter of the law, I’ve rented cars in dozens of countries without an IDP — and have never been asked to show one. You can get an IDP at your local AAA office.

Take care of medical business. Visit your doctor to get a checkup, and deal with any dental work that needs to be done. If you use prescription drugs, bring a sufficient supply to cover your trip, along with a copy of your prescription so you can refill it at a European pharmacy if necessary. Call your health insurance provider to see if they cover you internationally or whether you might need to buy special medical insurance.

Look into travel insurance. This can minimize the financial risks of a vacation. Your potential loss varies, depending on factors such as your health, how much of your trip is prepaid, the refundability of your air ticket, and what coverage you already have (through your medical, homeowners’, or renters’ insurance, and/or credit card).

For me, trip cancellation and interruption insurance is the most usable and worthwhile type. If I think there’s a greater than 1-in-20 chance I’ll need it (for instance, if I have a loved one in frail health at home), this can be a very good value and provide needed assurance. But if I’m healthy and hell-bent on making a trip, I’ll risk it and not spend the extra.

Prepare gadgets for takeoff. If you plan to use your US mobile phone in Europe, consider signing up for an international calling, text, and/or data plan, and confirm voice- and data-roaming fees. If you're bringing a mobile device, download any tools that might come in handy on the road, such as translators, maps, transit schedules, ebooks, Internet calling apps, and free audio tours (including mine, covering some of Europe's top sights and neighborhoods).

Make sleeping, eating, and sightseeing plans. For those who want maximum choice and peace of mind, book accommodations well before your trip, especially if you’ll be traveling during peak season, major holidays, or popular festivals. To avoid long lines at major sights, such as the Eiffel Tower and Florence's Uffizi Gallery, make advance reservations online (I'll cover this topic in more depth in a future column).

The best travelers are those who plan ahead. With a little advance legwork, you'll return home with rich stories of spontaneous European adventures.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

Europe Distilled: From Bottled Moonshine to Sunshine

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 03 May 2012 00:00:00 PST

Finishing dinner at Rome’s Ristorante da Fortunato, my friend Stefano explains that his greatest joy is an after-dinner drink called grappa. I try my best to enjoy the local firewater and fail. Sipping the grappa, Stefano instructs me: “You must not be in a hurry when taking a grappa!” He savors it carefully, sniffing the aroma and lingering over every taste. He then tells me that his ultimate joy is to have a glass of grappa — and a Tuscan cigar — while cruising on his sailboat to Corsica.

And so it goes all over Europe. Each nation has its own brand of moonshine — a distilled concoction that burns your throat, waters your eyes, and clouds your mind till you think you can drink like you’re a native. Trying these regionally produced spirits and liqueurs can be a great cultural experience — and brings out fun and fascinating facets of my favorite continent.

While many Americans are familiar with whiskies and brandies, there's a cornucopia of other specialty spirits in Europe, many made from fruits. Italy's grappa, for example, is made from winemaking leftovers — skins, pulp, seeds, and stems — distilled into a clear, potent brew. If you can't take it straight, try a shot of it in a cup of espresso, which the Italians call "caffè coretto" (corrected coffee).

"Ginjinha" is one of my favorite Portuguese drinks. This sweet liqueur is made from the sour, cherry–like ginja berry, sugar, and alcohol. It's sold for less than $2 a shot in funky old shops throughout Portugal. Buy it with or without berries ("com elas" or "sem elas" — that's "with them" or "without them") and "gelada" (if you want it poured from a chilled bottle — very nice).

In Greece, cloudy, anise-flavored ouzo, supposedly invented by monks on Mount Athos, is worth a try even if you don’t like the taste of black licorice. Similar to its Mediterranean cousins, French "pastis" and Turkish "raki," ouzo turns from clear to milky white when you add ice or water (don’t drink it straight). Greeks drink it both as an aperitif and with food.

Each Eastern European country has its own distinctive firewater, most of them a variation on slivovitz — a plum brandy so highly valued that it’s the de facto currency of the Carpathian Mountains (often used for bartering with farmers and other mountain folk). In Hungary, for a more straightforward spirit, try "pálinka," a powerful drink made from various fruits, most often "szilva" (plums) or "barack" (apricots).

In Germany and Austria, put down your beer stein and sample some schnapps. One of the best places for Teutonic homebrew is Salzburg, Austria. Look for Sporer on the city's main drag; it's a family-run distillery and retail shop that's been around for a century. Their many firewaters are in jugs at the end of the bar: "Nuss" is nut, "Marillen" is apricot (typical of this region), the "Kletzen" cocktail is like a super-thick Baileys with pear, and "Edle Brande" are the stronger schnapps.

One of the most notorious European specialty drinks is absinthe, the highly alcoholic, herb-based beverage popular among artists and writers in the late 1800s. Van Gogh and Gauguin had their falling out thanks, in part, to a night of absinthe drinking. That same night, Van Gogh sliced off part of his earlobe and presented it to a prostitute.

Considered dangerously addictive, absinthe was banned in 1915 but is legal again in France. There's a ritual to drinking it that requires a special glass and a slotted spoon. First pour a shot of absinthe into the glass; then place a sugar cube on the spoon and trickle cold water slowly through the cube into the drink. The green liquid turns cloudy as the sugary water releases the scents of absinthe's main flavorings — wormwood, anise, and fennel.

If you want to know more about "la fée verte" (the green fairy — absinthe's nickname), visit the Musée de l’Absinthe in Auvers-sur-Oise, northwest of Paris. It's located here for a reason: Auvers is also the site of Van Gogh's suicide and grave.

Compared to the Goth green of absinthe, "limoncello" is like bottled sunshine. This is Italy's candy-like liqueur made from lemons. Italy is one of the world's largest producers of lemons, and its Sorrento area specializes in limoncello. Sip it chilled after dinner for a "bella Italia" experience.

While taste-testing your way through Europe is fun, there's another reason for bar-hopping: You're sharing the local stuff with local people in local bars. So ask that person sitting nearby to suggest his or her favorite. It may singe your eyebrows, but you’ll never forget it.

(Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.)

Burgundy: Wine, Barging, and Beyond

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 26 Apr 2012 00:00:00 PST

My favorite corner of France is Burgundy, a region overflowing with edible, drinkable, scenic, and floatable delights. Its rolling hills and a handful of sleepy villages have given birth to the superior wines and fine cuisine that say "French."

The city of Beaune, snug within its medieval walls, makes a handy base for exploring the region. You'll feel comfortable right away in this prosperous and popular town, where life centers on the prestigious wines grown in the picturesque vineyards all around. Medieval monks and the powerful dukes of Burgundy laid the groundwork that established this town's prosperity. The monks cultivated wine, while the dukes cultivated wealth.

Beaune's real charm is the town itself, which is especially vibrant on Saturday, the market day, when colorful stands fill the square. There is one must-see sight in town, the Hospice de Beaune, a medieval hospital. Six hundred years ago, concerned about the destiny of his soul, one of Burgundy's wealthy sons attempted to buy a ticket to heaven by building this charity hospital. Rich and poor alike came here to die (or occasionally get better). The colorful glazed tiles on its roof established the classic style repeated on ancient buildings all throughout Burgundy.

In Beaune, every other shop seems to be selling wine. The production and consumption of the famous Côte d'Or ("Golden Hillside") wines is big business, and a good "nose" is a life skill worth developing. Your visit to Burgundy can include just about every aspect of the wine trade, right down to traditional barrel making. This time-honored craft is kept alive at cooperages, where crafting barrels is a mix of modern efficiency and traditional techniques. Workmen use steam and bands of iron to bend oak staves into wine-tight casks. The characteristics of the wood contribute to the personality of Burgundy's wine.

Each bit of land in the region has its own "terroir" — a unique combination of geology, soil characteristics, exposure to the sun, and altitude. Aficionados say that the quality of wine can be different from one spot to another just 200 yards away. Visitors are sometimes surprised by the poor-looking soil. Struggling to survive in the rocky ground, the grapevines manage to produce fruit of wonderful character and aromatic complexity.

To the connoisseur, the lovingly tended fields of Burgundy are a kind of pilgrimage site. For those versed in this drinkable art form, roadside signs read like fine-wine lists. Sightseers are welcome to drop in at many wineries, enjoy a little tasting, and pick up a bottle or two. Drivers enjoy motoring on Burgundy's lovely tree-lined roads, and bikers are happy here, too. Except for the rare farm vehicle, service roads are the domain of two-wheelers pedaling among the scenic villages.

An even more peaceful way to see Burgundy is by barge. Like much of France, Burgundy is laced with canals dug in the early industrial age. Two hundred years ago, these canals provided the cheapest way to transport cargo. With the help of locks, you could actually ship your goods clear across France, from the Mediterranean to the Atlantic. Today, trucks and trains do the heavy hauling, and the canals are for relaxed barging.

In the country famous for super-fast TGV trains, this popular mode of travel has two speeds: slow and stop. Full-service barges can be hired with a captain and crew who do the navigating, cooking, and guiding. Boats have fine staterooms with all the comforts you'd expect in a good hotel. You'll invariably be eating and drinking some of the best that Burgundy has to offer: boeuf bourguignon, coq au vin, escargots, and the celebrated local wine.

The French, who invented our modern concept of a vacation, are on to something good with barging. Whether on a luxury barge or a captain-it-yourself boat, the basic barging experience is the same: a lazy, intimate glide by pastoral yards and green fields. Barges come with bikes, and the pace is slow enough to allow for excursions. But what could be more enjoyable than sitting back in a deck chair and letting the sights come to you?

The Burgundy canal is 145 miles long, with 209 locks. Your barge ride is punctuated by a lock every mile or so. By rising from lock to lock, boats can gently "climb," step by step, over the rolling terrain. Each lock is a treat. Attendants who live in the historic lock houses are friendly and always ready to help out. Some locks are automated, while others involve a little old-fashioned elbow grease to ease the barge through.

In this calm and cultivated region, nature is as sophisticated as the people, and traditions are strong. If you're looking for quintessential French culture, you'll find it in Burgundy.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

The Cobbled Charms of Ceský Krumlov

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 00:00:00 PST

Lassoed by its river and dominated by its castle, Ceský Krumlov feels lost in a time warp. Nearly four hours south of Prague, this fairy-tale town of 15,000 is buried in the hills of the southern Czech Republic, an area much appreciated for its pastoral countryside. With its delightfully cobbled Old Town, rare Baroque theater, and colorful castle, Ceský Krumlov is an absolute treat.

The town has long attracted visitors. Tucked into a hairpin bend in the Vltava River, it was a safe, choice spot for Celtic, then German, then Slavic tribes to settle. In the 16th century — the town's Golden Age — Ceský Krumlov hosted artists, scientists, and alchemists from all over Europe.

These days, visitors set their sights on the mighty castle of the Rožmberk family, who ran the city from this perch for three centuries, until about 1600. The interior of the castle, which you can only visit on a one-hour escorted tour, gives a glimpse of the ultimate in Bohemian noble living through the ages.

The castle has several other sights. The strikingly colorful round tower, featuring a 162-step climb to the top, was built to guard the medieval river crossing. Bear pits hold a family of European brown bears, as they have since the Rožmberks added these animals to their coat of arms in the 16th century. A 2,300-foot-long garden boasts a mix of French and English styles.

The castle's highlight is the Baroque Theater, where guests of the noble family would go for evening entertainment. A guided tour takes visitors under the stage to see the wood-and-rope contraptions that enabled scenes to be scooted in and out within seconds while fireworks and smoke hid the action from the audience.

Baroque theater was all about melodrama, created with lighting, perspective, and sound effects. Machines were used to simulate a horrifying wind, driving rainstorm, and menacing thunder. But the use of candles and pyrotechnics for special effects took their toll. Europe once had several hundred Baroque theaters, but most burned down. Ceský Krumlov's theater is one of only two that survives in good shape and is open to tourists (the other one is in Stockholm).

Across the river from the castle is the made-for-strolling Old Town. Gothic buildings curve with the winding streets. Many precious Gothic and Renaissance frescoes were whitewashed in Baroque times, when the colorful trimmings of earlier periods were way out of style. Today, these frescoes are being rediscovered and restored.
At the heart of the Old Town is the main square, lined with a mix of Renaissance and Baroque homes of burghers (all built on 12th-century Gothic foundations). Lékárna, with a fine red Baroque facade on the lower corner of the square, is still a pharmacy, as it has been since 1620. McDonald's tried three times to get a spot here but was turned away each time. The Puppet Museum features more than 200 movable creations and a model stage, where children of any age can try their hand at pulling the strings on their favorite fairy tale.

The Vltava River beckons to those with an adventurous spirit. One of my favorite activities here is to rent a canoe and go for a three-hour float down the dreamy river, through Bohemian forests and villages, past cafés and pubs happy to welcome paddlers for a break. The destination? A 13th-century abbey. From here, the rafting company shuttles you back to town or provides you with a bicycle to pedal back along a bike path. Those with less time can still hit the water by taking a half-hour float around the city's peninsula.

While Ceský Krumlov can be done as a day trip from Prague, evenings here are wonderfully atmospheric. One of the liveliest places in town is the Gypsy Pub. Unlike other cities in Eastern Europe, where Romas (Gypsies) tend to live in segregated ghettos, Ceský Krumlov boasts a proud community of about 1,000. The easiest way for a traveler to experience the traditional Roma culture is through its lively music — always crowd pleasing and fiery.

Several big summertime festivals bring the city to life. At the Celebration of the Rose in June, locals celebrate their medieval roots (and drink oceans of beer) as blacksmiths mint ancient coins, jugglers swallow fire, mead flows generously, and pigs are roasted on open fires. The summer also brings a top-notch international jazz and alternative music festival to town, performed in pubs, cafés, and the castle gardens.

Once you see Ceský Krumlov, it's not hard to understand why this is the Czech Republic's second-biggest tourist magnet. With its simple beauty and wonderfully medieval feel, Ceský Krumlov is the quaint, small-town Europe that many people dream of experiencing.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

Pack Light, Even for a Cruise

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 12 Apr 2012 00:00:00 PST

When I put my luggage into a taxi at the start of my first-ever cruise trip, it was a shock. I'd never packed so much before: deck wear, nicer evening wear, and rugged travel clothing to use on land. I'd even brought four pairs of shoes...if you count my flip-flops.

But compared to my fellow passengers, I was still packing light. Pulling my wheeled carry-on bag to my stateroom, I had to dodge huge bags that jammed the hallways like a chorus line of beached whales.

Many cruisers eventually learn to keep their luggage to a minimum. Cruise-ship cabins are cramped, and large suitcases consume precious living space. Plus, you'll still need to get to the airport, on and off the plane, and between the airport and the cruise port. The lighter your luggage is, the easier your transitions will be.

Consider packing just one carry-on-size bag (9" by 22" by 14") and sharing an extra bag with your travel partner. I know — realistically, you'll be tempted to bring more. But cruising with limited luggage can be done without adversely impacting your trip; I've done it, and was happy I did. Pack one bag each, as if traveling alone, then share the third bag for bulky cruise extras (such as formal wear). If traveling before or after the cruise, you can store that third, nonessential bag at a friendly hotel or in a train-station luggage locker.

Here's another reason to favor carry-on bags: If the airline loses your checked luggage and doesn't get it to your embarkation port by the time your ship sets sail, the checked bags are unlikely to catch up to you. If you booked air travel through the cruise line, the company will do what it can. But if you arranged your own flights, the airline decides whether and how to help you — and rarely will it fly your bags to your next port of call. If you only checked the third, shared bag, no matter what gets lost, you'll still have your essentials.

Baggage restrictions provide a built-in incentive for packing light. Some cruise lines limit you to two bags up to 50 pounds apiece; others don't enforce limits (or request only that you bring "a reasonable amount" of luggage). But all airlines have restrictions on the number, size, and weight of both checked and carry-on bags. These days, you'll most likely pay for each piece of luggage you check — and if your bag is overweight, you'll pay even more.

You don't need to pack for the worst-case situation. Pack for the best weather and simply buy yourself out of any cold snaps. Risk shivering for a day (or layer a sweater under your rain jacket) rather than pack a heavy coat. Think in terms of what you can do without — not what will be handy on your trip. When in doubt, leave it out. The shops on your cruise ship (or on shore) are sure to have any personal items you forgot.

Most cruisers will want two to three changes of clothes each day: comfortable, casual clothes for sightseeing in port; more formal evening wear for dinners on the ship; and sportswear, whether it's a swimsuit for basking by the pool or athletic gear for hitting the gym or running track. But that doesn't mean you have to bring along 21 separate outfits for a seven-day cruise. Think versatile. Some port wear can double as evening wear. Two pairs of slacks can be worn on alternating nights, indefinitely. As you choose clothes for your trip, a good rule of thumb is: If you're not going to wear an item more than three times, don't pack it.

During the day, the dress code is casual. People wear shorts, T-shirts, swimsuits with cover-ups, flip-flops, or whatever they're most comfortable in. But in the evenings, a stricter dress code emerges. On most nights, dinner is usually "smart casual" in the main dining room and at some (or all) specialty restaurants. For men, slacks and a button-down or polo shirt is the norm; most women wear dresses, or pants or skirts with a nice top. Lightweight accessories like a tie or scarf add class to an outfit.

First-time cruisers may worry about "formal nights." While most cruises do have a few formal nights with a dress code, they're optional. You can always eat somewhere other than the fancy dining room.

Remember, packing light isn't just about the trip over and back — it's about your traveling lifestyle. You're not on a photo shoot for the pages of Vogue. With only one bag, you're ready for any travel adventure.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

From Walls to Islands, Northern England's Past Comes Alive

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 00:00:00 PST

While southern England gets most of the glory — and the tourists — the country's far northeastern corner harbors some of the best historical sights. Hadrian's Wall serves as a reminder that this was once an important Roman colony, while nearby Holy Island is where Christianity gained its first toehold in Britain. And both can be reached from the town of Durham, home to England's greatest Norman church.

For years I've visited Hadrian's Wall, the remains of the fortification the Romans built nearly 2,000 years ago to mark the northern end of their empire, where Britannia stopped and where the barbarian land that would someday be Scotland began. But until last summer, I never ventured beyond the National Trust properties, the museums, and the various car-park viewpoints.

This time, I spent a sunny late afternoon actually hiking the wall. As I scrambled along these Roman ruins, I took a moment to simply absorb the setting. All alone with the sound of the wind, I surveyed the vast expanses and craggy hills that seem to rip across the island, like a snapshot that has frozen some sort of geological violence in mid-action.

Hadrian's Wall stretches 73 miles across the isle. Once a towering 20-foot-tall fortification, these days "Hadrian's Shelf," as some cynics call it, is only about three feet wide and three to six feet high. But it's still one of England's most thought-provoking sights.

The best way to experience the wall is to focus on a six-mile stretch right in the middle, featuring three must-see sights: Housesteads Roman Fort shows you where the Romans lived; Vindolanda's museum shows you how they lived; and the Roman Army Museum explains the empire-wide military organization that brought them here.

This stretch of the wall also boasts some of the most enjoyable hiking. A three-mile ridge walk alongside the wall from Steel Rigg to Sycamore Gap (with the tree featured in the movie Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves) to Housesteads Roman Fort gives you a perfect taste of scenery and history.

If you prefer history with monks mixed in, visit Holy Island. This small dot off the coast of northern England, near the Scottish border, was the home and original burial ground of St. Cuthbert, a great missionary monk and leader of the early Christian church in northern England. Known 1,200 years ago as Lindisfarne, this island was the source of the magnificent Lindisfarne Gospels, illustrated by monks with some of the finest art from Europe's Dark Ages. By the ninth century, Viking raids forced the monks to take shelter in Durham, but they returned centuries later to re-establish a church on this holy site.

Today Holy Island makes a pleasant stop for modern-day pilgrims, who cross a causeway to a quiet town with B&Bs, cafés, and 150 residents. The island's highlights include a priory, with an evocative field of ruined church walls and a tiny museum, and a dramatically situated castle that's more enticing from afar than it is inside.

South of Hadrian's Wall and Holy Island and three hours north of London, the town of Durham sits snug below its castle and famous church. A sharp bend in the River Wear protected medieval Durham, providing a moat on three sides. Today the river ties Durham into a tidy little bundle and seems to protect it only from the modern world.

For nearly a thousand years pilgrims have come to Durham to see its cathedral. It was built around the year 1100 to house the much venerated bones of St. Cuthbert. The architecture is unusually harmonious because it's all one style. The cathedral was built in just 40 years and survives essentially unaltered. In the rest of Europe this kind of architecture would be called Romanesque. But in England it's called Norman, named after the invaders who brought it here from France. Round arches and zigzag carved decorations are textbook Norman.

For me, a Durham highlight is attending an evensong. I always arrive early and ask to be seated in the choir, the cozy, central church-within-a-church. In this vast, dark, and chilly building, the choir served as an intimate space where medieval monks could worship multiple times a day.

While the cathedral is the city's top draw, it's not the only one. Strolling the town and popping into the indoor market just off the main square is a delight. And as home to England's third-oldest university, the city is lively with tattooed students in search of a good karaoke bar.

From a magnificent cathedral to striking ruins, England's northernmost fringes provide the best opportunity to delve into the country's fascinating past while enjoying its friendly present.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

Italy's Civita di Bagnoregio: Jewel on the Hill

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 29 Mar 2012 00:00:00 PST

Of all the Italian hill towns, Civita di Bagnoregio is my favorite. Less well-known than Siena or Assisi, this stunning little gem has escaped the modern age mostly because of topography.

The town teeters atop a pinnacle rising high above a vast canyon ruled by wind and erosion. The saddle of earth that once connected Civita to its bigger and busier sister town, Bagnoregio, has worn away. Photographs around town show the old donkey path that once linked the hamlets. Today, the only way in or out is by a footbridge. Supplies are ferried in on mopeds.

The main entrance is a huge stone passageway, cut by the Etruscans 2,500 years ago and decorated in the 12th century with a Romanesque arch. Passing through the portal, you enter another world — one stuck in the Middle Ages. You can feel history in the smooth cobblestones under your feet.

Inside the gate, the charms of Civita are subtle. Those searching for arcade tourism won't know where to look. There are no lists of attractions, orientation tours, or museum hours. It's just Italy. Civita is an artist's dream, a town in the nude. Each lane and footpath holds a surprise. Ivy drapes over arches and scrambles up walls; potted flowers parade across balconies. The warm stone walls glow, and each stairway is dessert to a sketch pad or camera.

For me, exploring Civita is a cultural scavenger hunt. Rounding one quiet corner, I encounter the stately facade of a Renaissance palace with a fancy wooden door and grand windows leading to — thin air. The rest of the building fell away into the valley decades ago, riding a chunk of the town's ever-eroding rock. Pondering the view, I'm reminded that slowly but surely this town will succumb to the march of geological time.

The Swiss-cheese ground beneath Civita is honeycombed with ancient cellars, perfect for storing wine, and cisterns for collecting rainwater. Many date from Etruscan times. A pre-Roman tunnel below the town doubled as a bomb shelter in World War II.

Civita has one famous son, St. Bonaventure, the "second founder" of the Franciscan order. His home is long gone, but the basic grid plan of the old town survives, with a church as its centerpiece. The identity of this holy place of worship has rotated with the centuries: An Etruscan temple, then a Roman temple, rose here before today's Catholic church. Ancient pillars from those pagan temples stand like giant bar stools just outside the church door. To beat the heat, I like to step inside and enjoy a quiet moment in a pew.

The main piazza is the heartbeat and pride of the village, the spot where festivals and processions start, visitors are escorted, and the town's past is honored. Wild donkey races take place here in June and September, and at Christmastime, a living nativity scene is enacted in the square.

Civita's young people are gone, lured away by the dazzle of more modern places where they can take part in Italy's cosmopolitan parade. And as old people become frail, they move into apartments in nearby Bagnoregio. With the permanent population dwindling, Civita is becoming a weekend getaway for wealthy urbanites, who are slowly buying up the place. The remaining full-time families cater to visitors.

To enrich your experience of this rustic place, be an extrovert. Poke around and talk to people. I take a seat in the piazza, and smile and nod at each passerby. It's a social jigsaw puzzle, and each person fits. Cats, the fastest-growing segment of the population, scratch their itches on age-old stones.

Nothing is abandoned in this town. At one restaurant, the owner proudly shows off a huge olive press that is about 1,500 years old. Until the 1960s, blindfolded donkeys trudged in a circle to operate the press, crushing olives. Now it is the centerpiece of the restaurant, which sells bruschetta to day-trippers. Bread toasted on an open fire, drizzled with the finest oil, rubbed with pungent garlic, and topped with chopped tomatoes — these edible souvenirs stay on your breath for hours and in your memory forever.

I love my cool, late evenings in Civita. After dinner, I wander back to sit on the church steps with people who've been doing exactly this under the same moon, night after night, year after year. Children play on the piazza until midnight in the light of the lampposts. I listen to the sounds of rural Italy, mixed with voices and fortissimo crickets. Towering high above, Civita feels well-fortified against change.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

Thrill-Seeking in Europe

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 22 Mar 2012 00:00:00 PST

Adventure travel continues to be a major trend in the tourism industry, and while I'm not going to suggest you drop everything to climb the Matterhorn, Europe has plenty of thrills and chills to carbonate a stodgy vacation.

Over the years, I've tried windsurfing at Spain's Costa del Sol, mountain biking in Switzerland's Berner Oberland, surfing in Munich's English Garden, glacier-walking in Norway, and hut-hopping in the Italian Dolomites.

Last summer I learned that — even if I wasn't blessed with wings — I've got an abundance of hot air, and you can fly quite well with little more than that. I've always loved Cappadocia in central Turkey, so I took a majestic hot-air balloon ride over the fairy-chimney formations of that exotic landscape. From the moment our basket slipped from the land into the sky, I gazed in wonder, mesmerized at the erosion-shaped countryside.

Arguably the best hot-air balloon experience in the world is reason enough to get up at 4:30 a.m., spending $200 for a morning float above the rock formations. As I stood in the basket of my balloon, the rhythmic bursts of flame punctuated the captain's jokes while warming my wide eyes. Illogically, the stripes on his epaulets made me feel safe as we lifted off.

If you want to be more grounded, go to the Alps to take a wild ride on a summer luge ("Sommerrodelbahn," summer toboggan run). It's a quintessential alpine experience. You take a lift up to the top of a mountain, grab a wheeled sled-like go-cart, and scream back down the mountainside on a banked course made of concrete or metal. Then you take the lift back up and start all over again.

Operating the sled is simple: Push the stick forward to go faster, pull back to apply the brake. Novices find out quickly their personal speed limits. Most are cautious on their first run, speed demons on their second...and bruised and bloody on their third. A woman once showed me her travel journal illustrated with her husband's dried, five-inch-long luge scab. He had disobeyed the only essential rule of luging: Keep both hands on your stick. To avoid getting into a bumper-to-bumper traffic jam, let the person in front of you get way ahead before you start. You'll emerge from the course with a windblown hairdo and a smile-creased face.

A handy summer track, the Tegelberg Luge, is near Neuschwanstein, "Mad" King Ludwig's castle in Bavaria (www.tegelbergbahn.de). In Austria, try the Biberwier Sommerrodelbahn between Reutte and Innsbruck (www.bergbahnen-langes.at), which has the longest run in Tirol.

Even veteran travelers can find new thrills. Visiting my favorite village in the Swiss Alps, it occurred to me that I'd already ridden the lifts and hiked all the trails around Gimmelwald. But there was one experience listed in our book that I had yet to do personally: traverse a cliffside cable-way known to mountaineers as a "via ferrata." These are extremely steep routes with fixed cables, ladders, and metal rungs for steps. So, my friend Olle and I pulled on mountaineering harnesses and clipped our carabiners onto the first stretch of a two-mile-long cable, setting off with a local guide on the "iron way" from Mürren to Gimmelwald (www.klettersteig-muerren.ch).

The route takes you along the very side of the cliff, like a tiny window washer on a geologic skyscraper. The "trail" ahead of me was a series of steel rebar spikes jutting out from the side of the mountain. The cable, carabiner, and harness were there in case I passed out. For me, physically, this was the max. I was almost numb with fear.

After one particularly harrowing crossing — gingerly taking one rebar step after another — I said to the guide, "Okay, now it gets easier?" And he said, "No. Now comes 'die Hammer Ecke' (Hammer Corner)!" For about 500 feet we crept across a perfectly vertical cliff face — feet gingerly gripping rebar loops, cold and raw hands on the cable, tiny cows and a rushing river 2,000 feet below me, a rock face rocketing directly above me — as my follow-the-cable path bended out of sight. When we finally reached the end, I hugged my guide like a full-body high-five, knowing this was an experience of a lifetime. For the next several nights I awoke in the wee hours, clutching my mattress.

While hiking a via ferrata might not be your ideal vacation experience, thoughtful, rewarding travel goes way beyond collecting famous sights. It's leaving our comfort zones to have experiences that surprise, challenge, enrich, and inspire us. Try a European thrill; it will create memories that you'll forever treasure.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.

A Royal Treat: Chateaux-Hopping near Paris

rick@ricksteves.com (Rick Steves) — Thu, 15 Mar 2012 00:00:00 PST

Last summer, I felt like a king while exploring the splendid chateaux near Paris. One of the highlights was climbing under centuries-old exposed timbers through the attic of Vaux-le-Vicomte before popping out on the rooftop to a view of the spectacular garden.

An hour outside of Paris, Vaux-le-Vicomte is one of several sumptuous palaces studding the region around Paris. The most famous of these is Versailles. But several other chateaux also make for worthy day trips from Paris, including Vaux-le-Vicomte, Fontainebleau, and Chantilly.

Most of these chateaux were lavish hunting lodges — getaways from the big city. Insanely extravagant, they were primarily built by kings or bankers and financiers from the courts of the kings. These 17th-century equivalents of hedge-fund managers controlled the workings of the economy and amassed almost unfathomable wealth — which they spent in style.

Versailles is the grandest of these chateaux. Built in the town of Versailles, 30 minutes southwest of Paris, it became the residence of the king and the seat of France's government for a hundred years. Louis XIV moved to Versailles from the royal residence in Paris (today's Louvre).

The palace houses Louis' bedroom, a dazzling 700-seat royal opera house, a magnificent throne room with a 10-foot-tall canopied throne, and a royal make-out room in which couples would cavort beneath a ceiling painting of Venus, the goddess of love. In the magnificent 250-foot-long Hall of Mirrors, 17 arched mirrors match the 17 floor-to-ceiling windows providing views to the royal garden. Later, this was the room in which the Treaty of Versailles was signed, ending World War I.

Behind the palace, a landscaped wonderland dotted with statues and fountains was Louis's pride and joy. He loved his gardens and threw his biggest parties here. At the far end of the gardens — a good 40-minute walk from the palace — the pastoral Trianon/Domaine area features a fantasy world of palaces and pleasure gardens, providing Louis and his successors with an escape from their escape.

Versailles may be the most historically significant, but Vaux-le-Vicomte, just an hour away by car, is flat-out ravishing, with a harmony of architecture, interior decor, and garden design that's unrivaled. It gets my vote for the most beautiful chateau in all of France.

Vaux-le-Vicomte was the home of Nicolas Fouquet, France's finance minister during the reign of Louis XIV. After attending Fouquet's chateau-warming party in 1661, a very young Louis XIV was impressed yet envious. So, Louis had Fouquet thrown in prison, hired his architect, artist, and landscape designer, and had them build Versailles. The atmosphere of the party is re-created on Saturday evenings in summer, when thousands of candles illuminate the palace while classical music plays in the background.

Compared to Versailles, Vaux-le-Vicomte feels more intimate and in some ways more impressive. Driving up to it, you roll down a peaceful road lined with plane trees, planted by Napoleon so that his armies would have good shade to march under on their long treks across Europe. Vaux-le-Vicomte's sculpted French garden was cutting edge for its time and later would be copied in palaces all over Europe. And the palace is better-furnished than Versailles, despite the fact that most of the paintings and furniture are not original (Louis confiscated what he liked for his own pad).

While Vaux-le-Vicomte and Versailles are French-designed, the Chateau of Fontainebleau — about an hour outside of Paris — was created by Italians. But it lacks Versailles' unity. Originally built in 1528, Fontainebleau features a gangly and confusing series of wings that has grown with centuries of kings. Walking its halls, you can easily track the artistic shift in style, from Renaissance to ornate Rococo to the more sober, post-revolutionary Neoclassical.

As exhibited in its Napoleon I Museum, Fontainebleau has numerous connections to the French emperor. It was here that the pope met Napoleon before the general's 1804 coronation. And it was from the chateau's famous horseshoe-shaped staircase that Napoleon gave his stirring abdication speech, trading his rule of France for exile to Elba in 1814.

About 30 minutes north of Paris, the extravagant hunting palace of Chantilly floats serenely on a reflecting pond. Though it doesn't have the well-preserved and grandiose interiors of other chateaux, Chantilly is notable for its impressive art.

Because of the social upheaval in France during the Revolution of 1848, the chateau's owner, Prince de Conde, fled to England. Twenty years later, when blue blood was safe again in France, he returned to Chantilly with a fabulous art collection featuring 800 paintings, including works by Raphael, Titian, and Delacroix. His book collection, consisting of 13,000 titles, fills the chateau's library.

Whether your interest is art, gardens, or pure, over-the-top opulence, a trip to Paris isn't complete without a dip into the countryside to visit the region's grand chateaux.

Rick Steves (www.ricksteves.com) writes European travel guidebooks and hosts travel shows on public television and public radio. Email him at rick@ricksteves.com and follow his blog on Facebook.