What if we told you you could buy a home in a quaint Italian village for less than the price of a cappuccino? The fine print, of course, is that the house you’ll get will essentially be a collapsed set of walls. It will need major construction to be livable, and it’ll take much longer than you’d expect (read: years, not months) to get that remodeling done.

Municipalities across Italy have been joining the so-called 1 euro ($1.05 in U.S. dollars) house program for years now. It all started back in 2008 when art critic and TV personality Vittorio Sgarbi, then the mayor of Salemi in southern Sicily, got the idea from a friend to offer Salemi’s most rundown, abandoned properties in its city center for 1 euro in an effort to revitalize the town, which had been hit by an earthquake decades earlier and left in shambles.ÌęÌę

Since then, the concept has taken off in over 30 municipalities across northern and southern Italy, including the islands of Sicily and Sardinia, as a way to entice buyers to restore dilapidated structures. There’s no all-encompassing website for the program and information about these houses is hard to come by—each municipality has its own listings and local realtors are the best way to track those down.

This has a map of where some of these discounted houses can be found, there’s aÌę for those who’ve bought homes or are thinking about it, and the town of Mussomeli in Sicily, a hotbed of the 1 euro house program, has aÌę.

But we wanted to know, what is it actually like to buy one of these homes? So, we called up Rubia Daniels, a 50-year-old Brazilian who has spent the last 30 years living in Berkeley, California, where she works in renewable energy. In December 2018, Daniels heard about the 1 euro homes in Italy—a country where she has ancestors and always dreamed of living—and promptly got on a flight to Palermo, Sicily. She bought three properties for 1 euro each in Mussomeli in 2019. That was just the beginning of her saga. These are her words.ÌęÌę

After I heard about the 1 euro homes in Italy, I started researching different towns. I reached out to a realtor, and they replied immediately. Three days later, I booked a plane ticket and a rental car, and I was on my way. When I got to Mussomeli, a place I had never been before, it felt like I was coming home. I come from a small town in Brazil, where people are kind and everyone tries to help each other out. Mussomeli felt the same way. When people ask ‘How are you doing?’ they really mean it.

One of the reasons I picked Mussomeli over other towns is because you don’t have to leave to get what you need. Everything is there: furniture makers, ceramic suppliers, window stores. When I was researching areas, I would see that some towns didn’t have a bank, or a pharmacy, or a hospital. I know some people who bought houses in very isolated areas, where you have to drive a long way to get supplies.

The realtor I called only spoke Italian, but I understood enough of the language to get by. My realtor was with me the whole time, showed me around, and was very welcoming. That was 2018 so things are different now. Many realtors speak English, or you can request one who works with English speakers. When I did my first tour of 1 euro houses, it was just me and a bunch of houses to see. But as time progressed, people from all over the world started going there looking for these homes. Now it is a very international community. I know Koreans, Russians, Americans, and Argentinians who all bought a home in Mussomeli.

I was looking for high ceilings and a bigger home. Some houses were in better condition, but they were too small. Some were fully collapsed. You’re basically getting the house for free, so you take what you can get. The cost? It was actually 1 euro. But of course there were other fees. I had to pay the realtor fee, which was 500 euros back then and more now. I had to pay for the deed, which was 3,500 euros. Total, I spent 4,000 euros to get the keys. I bought three houses and closed on them by June 2019, six months after I had first visited. I returned to Italy with five suitcases full of tools, a generator, and my husband and brother-in-law from Brazil, who were ready to start working on the first house.

The roof on the house had fully collapsed. It was three floors, about 1,800 square feet, and from the bottom floor, you could see the sun coming through the roof. We had to do everything from scratch. The new roof went in first. We had to demolish everything and clean it up—that alone took a long time—before we could start remodeling. I worked for a full month rebuilding walls and the roof. Then COVID hit Italy and for two years, we couldn’t return. Construction stopped. The house just sat there.

In 2023, we returned to Italy and began work again. We redid the bathrooms and the kitchen, put in all new tiles and floors. My home will soon be finished, six years after I purchased it. Once we are done with the first home, we will start on the other two. My sons will manage those projects. One may become a restaurant with a house on top, and the other might be a wellness center to give back to the community.

The contractors there are so booked, you have to wait your turn. You have to remember there are 300 houses in a small town all being repaired—many of those are also 1 euro homes—and there aren’t enough workers to get it all done. I manage the contractors from overseas with help from translators and FaceTime. You can arrange everything over the phone, from furniture delivery to painting to curtain installation.

You must understand that Sicily is an island and people operate on ‘island time’. The work is going to get done, but Italians don’t live to work. Everything takes longer. They say they’re coming today to do the job, but that doesn’t mean they’re really coming today. They will come at some point. Sometimes, you have a new contractor who comes in and says, ‘The other guy did everything wrong. You have to demolish this and start from scratch.’ It costs more, but that happens everywhere.

So far, I have spent 38,000 euros in repairs and remodeling. I’m expecting to spend another 12,000 euros to finish. So, it’ll be about 50,000 euros total. But everything in the house is new. I have new plumbing and electrical. For that amount of money in the U.S., you can buy a car. It got me what is now a brand new house in Italy. I go to Italy three times a year to see how much progress has been made.

I’m going to retire there, that’s my goal. That will be my home base. From there, it’s a quick flight to London, Paris, or Istanbul. The air is clean. I can drink the water. The food is produced locally. It’s a much nicer quality of living and a much lower price than where I currently live. My goal is to retire there in the next 15 years.

Many of these houses became abandoned during World War II, and the towns are trying to revitalize them. It’s a way of bringing the town back to life. It’s working. It’s vibrant now. There are more young families, businesses are booming. The people are welcoming and happy. If you’re not from Italy, then you need what’s called a codice fiscal, a tax identification number for foreign citizens in order to purchase a house. It’s an easy process. You go in person and fill out a form to say which house you are buying. You’ll use that number to open a bank account or pay people. If I decide to stay in Italy for an extended time, I am going to apply for my Italian citizenship.

There are still 1 euro houses for sale in Mussomeli. It’s not as big an inventory as when I was first looking, but you can still buy a house for 1 euro. Don’t think everything will be free. Know that the houses may be fully collapsed. Walk around the town, interact with the neighbors. That should help you make your decision. If you’re someone like me who gets excited about a project, then this is for you.

Megan Michelson is an șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű contributing editor who recently took a trip to Italy, where she kept looking over her shoulder for homes for sale for 1 euro. She’s also recently written about how to visit Jackson Hole on the cheap, reviewed the coolest Airbnb in Colorado, and how to find incredible ski lift ticket deals.Ìę

The post What It’s Really Like to Buy a 1 Euro Home in Italy appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

It’s time to flip the script on the experience of watching movies. Gone are the days when you’d need to stay at home to tee up a movie or bingeable series from your couch. Whether you’re in a remote campsite, a friend’s backyard, or your own living room, Samsung screens turn anywhere into the ultimate, immersive home theater. Now, you don’t need to go where the best setup is, because it can be wherever you are.

That’s why we’re sending a select group of friends on the road to watch iconic films in the epic outdoor locations that inspired them. Guess where they’re headed, and you could win a select Samsung screen to stage your own watch-anywhere party. Here’s how it works:

Geo-Guessing Challenge

This fall, three șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű ambassadors are spreading out across the country, setting up shop in mystery locations connected to their favorite movies. They’ll create an immersive movie viewing setup in unique locations (thanks to Samsung screens!), and share images and clues to help you guess where they are. After all, what’s more iconic than watchingÌęThe GooniesÌęin an Oregon cave, or Jaws on a beach in Martha’s Vineyard?

Not much, says James Fishler, Chief Executive of Samsung Home Entertainment, who’s logged dozens of van-based road trips from the Catskills to the Adirondacks and down to Assateague Island. “I love getting outdoors any chance I get, and I also love nothing more than setting up a movie night—especially if it’s an old classic like one my favorites, Harry and the Hendersons,” Fishler says. “With Samsung, there’s no reason I can’t do both!

“Whether I’m at home, on-the-go, or anywhere in between, our cutting-edge lineup of Samsung screens let you upscale every moment and deliver the ultimate viewing experience,” adds Fishler, pictured below. “The world becomes your theater, and your theater transforms into the world you’re watching.”

Here’s How It Works:

Starting on October 28, we’ll launch the first in a series ofÌęthree challenges, dropping clues and photos to give everyone a chance to guess the locations. At the end of each challenge, ambassadors will post a reel revealing where they are. Guess correctly, and you’ll be entered into a sweepstakes to win a cutting-edge Samsung screen (more below).

New to geo-guessing? No problem. We’ve enlisted professional Google Maps player , the best in the biz, to help make this challenge fun and accessible for everyone.

Episode 1

First up, we’ll tag along with Caziah “Caz” Franklin, the road-tripping renaissance man who seeks to capture the deeper essence of adventure. With his Ford Bronco, Caz is eager to spend nights under the stars between iconic national parks and wild campsites off the beaten path. Equipped with Samsung screens to join the adventure, he’ll showcase a creative theater experience, no matter how rugged the road to get there. Check out Ìę(plusÌęÌęandÌę) on Oct. 28 for the first clues about his secret screening spot.

 

View this post on Instagram

 

“We had an incredible time filming with the Freestyle by Samsung,” notes Caz, impressed with the projector’s compact design and performance. “It’s the ultimate piece of gear for those who want to unite cinema and nature—living up to its name, offering versatile, high-quality entertainment anywhere.”

Samsung Screens

The geo-guessing prize? One of these Samsung screens, all perfectly equipped to elevate your next active viewing experience.

: Pick a spot, any spot. This portable projector brings your favorite content to life anywhere you choose: from the walls, to the ceiling, to the side of your home. Weighing less than two pounds, it’s more compact and lightweight than a pair of hiking boots; easily take it with you for all of your travels, whether it’s across the country or just across the yard. Stream¹ must-watch shows and movies in Full HD on a screen that can project up to 100”. Play thousands of the top gaming titles from partners like Xbox – no console required². It’s even compatible with external USB-connected battery banks³, so you can roam freely while staying connected.

: Turn every movie night (or day!) into an epic, open-air entertainment experience with this outdoor-optimized TV. Its screen is engineered to look vivid and bright, even in daylight⁴. Its Wide Viewing Angle and Anti-Glare screen makes it easy to watch what you love from any seat, eliminating distractions and ensuring a clear picture. It boasts an IP56 rating for durability so you can enjoy your favorite content outside throughout the seasons.

:ÌęExperience all of your favorite movies and shows across both lightÌęand dark rooms with nearly no glare, thanks to the Samsung S95D series. This TV’s screen is optimized with Glare-Free technology to bring every scene to life with the purest blacks, brightest whites, and PantoneÂź-validated color.

: Life’s biggest adventures deserve the biggest screens. That’s why Samsung offers a super big lineup of 98-inch-class screens, designed to transform every movie night into the ultimate view. Not all big screens are created equal, though —but the Samsung lineup is built with advanced Supersize Picture Enhancer⁵, a feature that can help you clearly see every detail on screen without any distortion or blur, even at the 98-inch size (*available on 85” Class TVs Q80D and above, and all 98” Class TVs).

¹ Includes Samsung SmartHub by Wi-Fi; additional external content by Micro HDMI port (adapter/cables not included) and compatible devices with AirPlay 2, SmartThings’ Tap View.
² High speed internet connection, additional gaming service subscriptions and compatible controller required.
³ External battery sold separately, needs to support USB Power Delivery and 60W/20V output or above.
⁴ The Terrace Full Sun panel is protected up to 6 hours in sunlight at 700 watts and 104 degrees Fahrenheit; brightness may decrease to protect panel with other high temperature and sunlight conditions. The Terrace Partial Sun is designed for placement and use in outdoor shaded environments. The TV can be exposed to ambient or non-direct sunlight, but direct sunlight must be avoided.
⁵ Supersize Picture Enhancer is available on 85” Class TVs Q80D and above, and all 98” Class TVs.

The post The Ultimate View appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

When I had the chance to spend some time in Europe this year, the first thing I wanted to do—well, besides find some really good cheese—was figure out how to visit as many national parks as possible. As the editor in chief of , °żłÜłÙČőŸ±»ć±đ’s sister brand, I spend a lot of time thinking about national parks. Whether it’s figuring out how to pack as much as possible into a weekend in Yellowstone, thinking about the implications of reservation systems, or dreaming about units to visit, I eat, sleep, and breathe America’s best idea.

But narrowing down the European parks to visit proved tougher than I’d imagined. While the 27 EU member countries share a market and (mostly) a currency, each nation’s approach to public lands is vastly different. Some European national parks are all pristine wilderness areas and have strict recreation-use laws. In others, you’ll find trendy bars serving Aperol spritzes, with Vespas parked outside. There’s even a Croatian national park with a zoo, complete with an elephant, ostriches, and zebras. Slovenia has just a single park; Finland has dozens.

While European parks run the gamut, they all have one thing in common. They’ve been set aside as meriting designation, meaning they’re worth a visit to see something meaningful, whether that’s glistening glaciers, spectacular mountain peaks, hanging bridges across thundering rivers, or ancient vineyards clinging to cliffs above the sea.

These are the European national parks that top my travel bucket list. I’ve been to several of them and can’t wait to see the rest.

1. Triglav National Park, Slovenia (Triglavski Narodni Park)

Admission: Free

WHY GO: While Alpine countries like France and Austria get most of the love, many people know almost nothing of one of the Alps’ best destinations: Slovenia. On my first visit to the country I was instantly charmed by the country’s rolling pastures, pretty churches set against the backdrop of mountains and blue lakes, and university-town capital, Ljubljana, which, with its avant-garde metalwork and dragon mascot, has a decidedly punk feel. When I realized that a subrange of the Alps was protected in the northwestern corner of the country as Triglav National Park, I knew I had to return.

Nestled up against the Italian border and nearly touching Austria, Triglav is home to thick forests, rivers, mountain villages, and big peaks that quickly made it one of my favorite national parks. Mount Triglav is the crown jewel at 9,396 feet, but plenty of other impressive summits draw peak baggers from across the world. Vogel Ski Resort can be found here too, offering 14 miles of terrain.

BEST ADVENTURES: Most park visitors flock to the Lake Bohinj region, a nearly 800-acre glacially carved valley filled with deep blue water where you can rent traditional wooden rowboats ($16/hour), among other watercraft. Vogel is in this area, and you can take the gondola and chairlift ($34 roundtrip for adults) partway and hike to the summit. The 6.1-mile trail isn’t technical, but it is steep in places, secured with cables and pegs. Keep your eyes peeled for the ibex and chamois that live here.

Watch the weather for wind gusts that could shut down the lifts, and stay aware of the time, because it’s a long trek back down if the chairs stop running before you reach them (they close at 4 p.m. in the summer). At several traditional huts on the mountain, you can enjoy local cheese and mountain dishes like goulash.

While the Bohinj area is the most popular, venturing further into the park is absolutely worth it. Head up and over the steep and narrow VrĆĄič Pass to Triglav’s more remote west side (my favorite), where you’re as likely to encounter a herd of sheep blocking the road as cyclists riding on it. Tackle the 15-mile , a hike that can be done in a long day, or at a slower pace, where you spend the night in one of several villages along the way. The beautiful trail follows the river, which is so clear and bright it almost hurts to look at. My husband, dog and I got distracted on our hike and instead spent a pleasant afternoon wadingÌę in the cold snowmelt. Wind your way gradually down valley under larches and across swinging bridges.

If you really want to get away, several long-distance trails, including the Via Alpina red route (1,500 miles) and the Alpe Adria Trail (466 miles), run through Triglav. For less of a commitment than those, head into the Seven Lakes Valley on a multi-day excursion, where you can spend the night in several maintained huts (no camping is allowed in the backcountry).

HOW TO GET THERE: Slovenia has a great public transportation system, making it easy to get from Ljubljana to Bled by train (40 minutes) and then Bled to Bohinj by bus (40 minutes), so you can stay in the capital and still explore the park. Buses run to other parts of Triglav, too, but pay attention to timetables, as they are less frequent and getting a taxi or rideshare won’t be an option in remote parts of the park.

BEST TIME TO GO: June to September is high season for hiking and hut availability, but can also be crowded. Snow melts early in this part of the world, so low elevation hikes can be done in the spring and fall to avoid the crowds. Ìę

WHERE TO STAY: Accommodations, from private hotels and guest houses to campgrounds and mountain huts, abound inside the park. My husband and I like staying in Bohinj on the west side for easy access to Vogel and the pretty town of Bled, or the quiet village of Trenta on the east side. For an alpine experience, book a bed at Tičarjev Dom ($47 per person with breakfast), the mountain hut at the summit of Vrơič Pass. You’ll sleep dormitory-style and rise to incredible mountain views the next morning from the patio over a bela kava (coffee with milk).

2. Oulanka National Park, Finland

Admission: Free

WHY GO: If you’re looking to get into some of the most remote wilderness on the continent, head to Oulanka National Park in Finland. The park hugs the Russian border in the far northeastern part of the country above the Arctic Circle and is an experience in solitude. In fact, the wilderness doesn’t stop at state lines. It continues east, bleeding quietly into Russia’s PaanajĂ€rvi National Park, with a simple rope forming the border and keeping canoeists in the EU. Last year I visited Levi Ski Resort in Finnish Lapland, four hours to the north, and fell in love with polar night. Getting back is at the top of my list and this time I want to get deeper into the wilderness, specifically at Oulanka.

Planning a trip to this remote land filled with boreal forests, rushing rivers, and limestone gorges isn’t easy, but I promise the hardest part will be picking which season to visit–winter or summer? This far north, the year is capped by eternal night in the deep winter, when you can snowshoe, cross-country ski, and try to spot the Northern Lights, and permanent sun in the height of the warm months, with plenty of daylight for canoeing and hiking trips.

BEST ADVENTURES: Summer visitors have two main choices for exploring: by water or by land. Paddlers can rent canoes and camping gear from to embark on a trip down the Oulankajoki River. The lower section is calm, with a short two-hour option to a takeout or a seven-hour route that makes an excellent overnight trip with a stop at any of several campsites or the first-come, first-served AnsakĂ€mppĂ€ Wilderness Hut. There are rapids and a portage on the upper section of the river, so skip it unless you’re an experienced boater.

On foot, try the , a loop that crosses some of the park’s famous hanging bridges. In summer months, the trail is one-way (clockwise). Backpackers can head out on the 50-mile Bear’s Ring, aka . Finland’s most popular hike traverses the park from north to south, with each stage ending on a bus route in case you’d prefer to sleep in a real bed, or campsites and huts along the way if you’d rather rough it. Thundering rivers, placid streams, bogs, hanging bridges, and delicate purple orchids await. Look out for traditional Sami herders and their reindeer, who still inhabit the area today.

In the winter, I love how the mercury plunges when Finnish Lapland freezes over, rewarding intrepid and cold-tolerant visitors with a magical landscape. It’s my favorite time of year to be in Finland. Pines and spruces thick with frozen snow stand like fuzzy sentinels over ice-crusted rivers and cross-country ski trails. In December and January, you’ll find a scant three hours of daylight. In late winter, you’ll still experience plenty of darkness for northern lights spotting, but will also be treated to long sunrises and sunsets, turning the landscape into a cotton-candy-colored forest.

Use an app like My Aurora Forecast to monitor northern-lights conditions for your best chance at spotting the undulating colors. Other winter options are to rent snowshoes or cross-country skis in nearby Ruka and set off on the park’s many trails.

HOW TO GET THERE: The closest airport to the park is Kuusamo, which has several flights from Helsinki each day, plus a few other major European cities like Brussels and Frankfurt. While renting a car in Kuusamo is the easiest mode of travel, a bus route from the airport accesses the Karhunkierros Trail, Oulanka National Park Visitor Center, and Ruka, if you’re eager to add downhill skiing to your itinerary. Ruka Ski Resort is Finland’s best known, and has a long season lasting October to May.

BEST TIME TO GO: Peak season for hiking and canoeing, the park’s main attractions, is July through September when the weather is warmest and most predictable (think 50s) and the days are the longest. To see the Northern Lights and get out on snowy trails, December through March are the best season, but be ready for temps from freezing to below zero.

WHERE TO STAY: For the most options, base yourself at Ruka Ski Resort. Ruka offers all sorts of lodging options and the park is a quick 30-minute drive away. Winter visitors who want to go all out should stay at , with glass igloos perfect for aurora spotting (from $347/night with breakfast). If you want to be closer to the park, ’s cozy wilderness hotel borders it (from $109/night for a double room).

3. Cinque Terre National Park, Italy (Parco Nazionale delle Cinque Terre)

Admission: $21-$35/day for train and trail access

WHY GO: I’d seen the brightly colored Italian houses clinging to cliffs above an azure sea on my Instagram feed, but had no idea that the five villages making up the Cinque Terre (note the article “the,” as you’ll be judged mightily for dropping it) are actually a national park until I visited this past spring. The land here is characterized by its human influence. The steep hills leading straight into the sea have been terraced and cultivated for more than 1,000 years.

BEST ADVENTURES: The most popular hiking route is the Blue Trail (also called the Sentiero Azzuro or SVA), the main path that historically connected all five villages. In 2019, a landslide took out the section of trail between Corniglia, Manarola, and Riomaggiore, and maintenance work is ongoing, though the Manarola to Riomaggiore section reopened in July. The sections between Corniglia, Vernazza, and Monterosso al Mare remained open. Whenever you choose to travel, start out as early in the day as possible or plan an evening hike to dinner to avoid the crowded midday hours. Taking the train back is also always an option if the trails get packed (we had to turn around and take the train in April because the pathway was gridlocked).

(grab a focaccia made with the region’s famous pesto for my favorite mid-hike snack) and on to Monterosso is 4.1 miles one way with 2,000 feet of elevation gain. A less popular, but in my opinion even better, hike on the Blue Trail is the . You’ll climb up to the tiny town of Volastra, perched above the Cinque Terre, and then back down to Manarola. Time your hike so that you can grab a glass of wine and bruschetta at Cantina Capellini, a winery producing the Cinque Terre DOP white wine. The simple patio is right on the trail, situated amongst the vines, and overlooks the sea. Make sure you have room in your pack for a bottle to take home.

Heading south from Corniglia and ending in Manarola is 3.6 miles one way, with 1,300 feet of elevation gain. The descent on this route is heinous (you’ll end lower than you began), so you may want to skip this one if your knees are bad.

When you’re not on the trail, take advantage of amazing food (cornettos! pesto! wine! fried anchovies! focaccia!) on a patio, or head down to the water. Each town has sea access for swimming, though you won’t find much of a beach anywhere besides at Monterosso. Spread a towel on the rocks and sunbathe, or ($10.75/hour rentals from Riomaggiore) to explore the coastline.

HOW TO GET THERE: Fly into Florence, Milan, or Rome. Trains run directly from these major hubs to La Spezia Centrale, the closest city to the Cinque Terre, or you can drive to La Spezia Centrale and park your rental car in the large garage at the station. From there, it’s a quick seven-minute train ride to the first village, Riomaggiore. Each additional village is just a few minutes further up the tracks. If you plan on utilizing both the train and the trails, purchase a in advance, which allows unlimited train rides between villages (including La Spezia), access to the trails, and free use of the toilets at each train station ($21-$35/day).

BEST TIME TO GO: Hiking the Cinque Terre is best done in the off-season. Summer crowds are epic, and the trails can get packed by late morning even in the spring and fall.

While it’s a gamble to visit in the colder months (November through March), as the trails can close when weather is bad and you’ll have fewer lodging and dining options, it’s the least busy season. Plan a visit for the fringe months of March or November to capitalize on good weather and to beat the masses.

WHERE TO STAY: You’ll find hotels in Monterosso and Riomaggiore on each end, as well as in the larger city of La Spezia, a quick train ride away. But for the most authentic experience stay in one of the three central villages. Book a vacation rental (Airbnb has plenty of options) in Vernazza, Corniglia, or Manarola, and you’ll get to experience the towns when all the day tourists from the cruise ships have left. Quiet restaurants, empty streets, and coffee with the locals each morning are treats.

My favorite village is Corniglia, for its smaller size and gorgeous view from atop a hill, though the walk from the train station up a long set of stairs to the town makes coming and going a chore. We ended up skipping our dinner reservations one town over in favor of staying put here with a bottle of wine and take-out focaccia.

4. Dolomiti Bellunesi National Park, Italy (Parco Nazionale Dolomiti Bellunesi)

Admission: Free

WHY GO: While each region of Europe’s Alps has its own flavor, the Italian Dolomiti are particularly impressive. Craggy mountains, mist-filled valleys, and sweeping forests provide one of my favorite landscapes in the world.

The range, which encompasses northeastern Italy, is home to the 12 world-renowned ski areas that make up the Ikon Pass destination Dolomiti Superski. It’s also a Unesco World Heritage Site and the location of several incredible regional parks, such as Tre Cime. But you’ll only find one national park, Dolomiti Bellunesi, in the region. I’ve somehow missed this corner of the Dolomiti in all of my adventures here, so I can’t wait to plan a trip back to see it.

Stretching 12-square-miles northwest of Belluno, this somewhat under-the-radar park offers visitors the best of the Dolomiti, with fewer crowds than the area’s better-known and more northerly destinations of Tre Cime, Seceda, and Lago di Braises. Home to via ferratas, two of the famous Alta Via trails, and countless quintessential Italian villages, this is the place where you want to start your Dolomiti adventure.

BEST ADVENTURES: You’ll want to experience this national park by foot–miles of trails cross the mountains, including two of the Alta Via, or “high routes.” Alta Via 1 is a classic and one of the least technical of the routes, running 75 miles from Lago di Braies to La Pissa. The final four stages, which are often the least crowded, wind through the park. Alta Via 2 also includes three stages in the national park, from Passo Cereda to Passo Croce d’Aune. This route is more technical, with via ferratas required along the way. A climbing harness, helmet, and gloves are needed to tackle this option ( in Cortina »ć’AłŸ±è±đłúłúŽÇ for $23/day).

Whether or not you embark on one of the park’s through-hikes, you should definitely experience a via ferrata while in the Dolomiti. Popularized during WWI in the region to help troops navigate vertical terrain, these “iron paths” use ladders, rungs, pegs and steel cables affixed to rocks to help people move across the cliffs. The park’s highest peak, Schiara, has three via ferratas ringing it: Zacchi, Berti, and Piero Rossi, which, linked up, make for a long but doable day in the mountains if you stay at ($74/night for half board). These routes lean toward being difficult, so hiring a guide is advisable. I found to be excellent on my most recent via ferrata adventure, on the Punto Anna route in Cortina d’Ampezzo, an hour and a half north.

Cyclists can test their mettle on the grueling stage 20 of the 2022 Giro d’Italia route, which runs 104 miles (168 kilometers) from Belluno to Marmolada, crossing through the park on SR203. Whatever activities you choose to get up to, make sure to include some time on either end of your trip for a quick detour to the so-called Prosecco Road between Valdobbiadene and Conegliano, where the prestigious DOCG (the highest quality designation) sparkling wine is produced in the hills. My favorite producer, Adami, is one of the oldest in the region and has an excellent tour and tasting experience.

HOW TO GET THERE: Venice offers the closest major airport, and train service to Belluno takes approximately two hours. From there, the Dolomiti bus services many of the roads within the park, but note timetables, as service can be limited. Unless you’re planning a through-hike, the best way to explore the Dolomiti is by renting a car in Venice or Belluno, then driving to trailheads.

BEST TIME TO GO: Most staffed rifugios (mountain huts) away from the ski resorts are only open to hikers in summer, so June through September are the best months to visit if you’re planning an overnight adventure. The weather often stays pleasant through October, though, and travel then is a great way to skip out on some of the crowds if you’re prepared for the possibility of an early season snow storm.

WHERE TO STAY: Hiking the Alta Vias, even just a few linked stages, takes forethought, as many of the rifugios along the route fill up early in summer. Start planning in January or February when availability opens. Otherwise, you’ll find accommodation options—including hotels, guesthouses, rifugios, and vacation rentals—in and around the park, but book early as options can be limited. Belluno, with 36,000 inhabitants, is the closest major town.

For a unique experience, plan a stay at an agriturismo, a working farm where you’ll be treated to meals with homemade products like cheese and salumi. Mountain pasture cheesemaking has become a somewhat lost art in the Dolomiti, but this park has worked hard to restore five of these “malga” operations. If you don’t stop at an agriturismo, watch for latterias (like Latteria Perenzin in San Pietro di Feletto) where you can buy the locally made cheese alongside salumi and other products perfect for a picnic.

5. Samaria National Park, Greece

Admission $5.50

WHY GO: Encompassing the longest gorge in Europe, Samaria National Park showcases the best of the Mediterranean, from towering cliffs to fragrant cypress trees, and from white limestone riverbeds to the sparkling sea itself. Since the park is comprised almost solely of one long, steep , you can experience the place in its entirety, from the White Mountains to the Mediterranean, in one day. Samaria Gorge is located on the western side of Crete, Greece’s biggest island. I haven’t gotten to Greece yet, but a friend and colleague promises me that it’s the first place I’ll want to go.

BEST ADVENTURES: The park is open, weather permitting, from May through October. Entry begins at 7 a.m., and it’s an excellent idea to start out then, before the heat of the day. Much of the trail is exposed and sunbaked, so going the first or last month of the season is wise to avoid the mid-summer heat. The park closes down during excessively hot stretches, or if flooding is possible in the shoulder season. Pay attention to the heat and hold off if the temperatures are dangerous. It’s usually a five- to seven-hour hike without services, so pack plenty of water and snacks; bring sun protection, a hat and a neck gaiter to help stay cool; and wear hiking footwear. Water from springs is often available along the route, but don’t count on it.

You’ll start hiking steeply downhill, taking in the views of the surrounding White Mountains, before continuing through a pine and cypress forest and reaching the church of St. Nikolas inside the ruins of an ancient temple. Look around for kri kri, wild Cretan goats. Cross a few streams and you’ll find yourself in the ancient village of Samaria, which is now solely inhabited by park staff.

The gorge gradually narrows as you cross through a (hopefully) dry riverbed, alongside striped rock walls, into the skinniest point in the canyon, where the walls are just under 10 feet apart. The park closes at 6 p.m., so make sure you’re through the exit by then. Either walk another 1.5 miles or hop on a cheap shuttle to get to the village of Agia RoumĂ©li, where you can grab a late lunch or early dinner at one of several restaurants and, if time allows, take a well-earned dip in the Mediterranean.

The single ferry leaves the village at 5:30 p.m., only once per day, so don’t miss it or you’ll have to arrange a taxi boat or stay in the village. Depart at Chora Sfakion or Sougia and take the bus back to your car or lodge. If arranging your own transportation stresses you out, many tour companies offer guided excursions in the park.

HOW TO GET THERE: From Athens, fly into Chania International Airport for the closest access to the park. In Chania, you can either rent a car and drive to the gorge, or purchase a bus ticket to Xyloscalo, at the start of the trail. The full hike is one way, and at the end you’ll take a ferry to Sougia ($16/person) and then the bus either back to your car at the trailhead or your hotel in Chania. Be sure to reserve your return tickets in advance to avoid getting stranded.

BEST TIME TO GO: Samaria Gorge is open May through October, with the beginning and end of the season providing the coolest temperatures.

WHERE TO STAY: Most visitors base in the city of Chania and do the trip to Samaria Gorge in one long day, but if you, like me, would prefer a slower pace and to experience the secluded village of Agia Rouméli without the crowds, you can stay at one of the few hotels or vacation rentals in town. offers rooms, breakfast and beach loungers starting at $79 per night. You can spend the entire next day enjoying the beach before catching the ferry back.

6. Écrins National Park, France (Parc National des Écrins)

ADMISSION: Free

WHY GO: Écrins National Park, a glacier-filled alpine paradise with more than 150 peaks topping 3,000 meters, sits near the Italian border in eastern France. The Alps are one of my favorite landscapes in the world and, after visiting them in Austria, Italy, Slovenia, Switzerland, and Lichtenstein, I put this French national park squarely on my to-do list. Barre des Écrins is the tallest summit here, towering 13,458 feet above the park, the most southerly 4,000-meter peak in the Alps. Here, amongst the chamois you’ll almost certainly spot, you’ll feel like you’re at the top of the world.

BEST ADVENTURES: You could hike the park’s many trails, including a section of the Grand Écrins, but this is also a space known for its alpine climbing. If you’re looking for adventure, a three-day mountaineering- and glacier-skills course with will help you tag the summit of Barre des Écrins, staying in remote mountain huts ($1,645).

Within the boundaries of Écrins are two ski areas, and two others just bordering the park might be the area’s most famous, especially for cyclists. Les Deux Alpes bike park is one of the biggest in the Alps and is home to beginner- to competition-level courses in everything from downhill to enduro with pristine alpine views. Alpe d’Huez offers one of the Tour de France’s most iconic climbs in addition to the wild Megavalanche, a mass-start mountain-bike race on a glacier. Ride into the national park, which has around 100 miles of marked bike trails.

HOW TO GET THERE: The closest major city is Grenoble, France. Fly into Lyon, Geneva, Marseille, or even Paris and take a high-speed train to Grenoble. From there, if you plan on some serious exploring, it’s best to rent a car, but bus service is also available to Les Deux Alpes if you will stick to the resorts or hire a guide to get into the mountains.

BEST TIME TO GO: July through September are the months to visit to avoid snow in this mountain environment.Ìę

WHERE TO STAY: The ski resorts and villages in and around Écrins provide ample lodging, but to really get away from it all, book a stay in one of the 40 throughout the park. While some of these mountain huts simply serve as basic overnight shelters for mountaineers, others are staffed in the summer, offering hot dinner and breakfast and often a lovely patio on which to take in the setting sun in a gorgeous high-alpine setting.

Refuges almost always require a hike to reach, so choose your trail, do your research and book ahead to ensure you have a bed waiting at the end of your day.

Mikaela Ruland is the editor in chief of National Park Trips. She lives for the outdoors, and you can usually find her hiking, skiing, or mountain biking. She’s been to national parks on three continents, including 23 of the 63 U.S. national parks. Her favorite is whichever one she’s traveling to next.

The post Top 6 National Parks in Europe—And the Best șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs in Them appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

If you want to experience a stunning outdoor destination like a local, you need to ask one for advice. That’s why we talked to Pietro Picco about . The picturesque mountain town has it all—hiking, biking, climbing, and amazing food and lodging—and Picco knows it all like few others. He has a deep love for his home mountains—they’ve inspired him to climb peaks like Mont Blanc and K2. Here, get Picco’s insider perspective and advice, and learn why Courmayeur is the ultimate outdoor destination for all kinds of adventurers.

Plan Your Trip

șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű: What makes Courmayeur so special for alpine travelers?Ìę

Pietro Picco: Courmayeur is a lovely mountain town—a jewel guarded by the highest mountain in the Alps: Mont Blanc. In Courmayeur, visitors can immerse themselves in Val Ferret’s nature, find wild experience in Val Veny, or hike the trails in the ski area. Travelers can also find traditional gourmet Italian cuisine, alpine spas, and luxury stores.

Find Your Hike

What are your trail recommendations for beginner, intermediate, and advanced hikers looking to experience the beauty of Mont Blanc?

Whether you’re a new or experienced hiker, there are a variety of trails within walking distance from town to explore. Some lead to refuges—remote shelters for mountaineers and hikers—that make for a rewarding stop.

There are many shops in town that sell and rent anything and everything a hiker could possibly need: boots, poles, backpacks—you name it, they have it! You can also book a guided hike with one of the experienced outfitters. They’ll supply essential gear and teach you about the area’s geology and natural resources.

I also recommend exploring Val Veny and Val Ferret. Both of these scenic valleys are cradled by cols that border France and Switzerland and have scenic trails leading to viewpoints of the Mont Blanc massif. As you plan your visit to Courmayeur, consider one of these hikes:

Beginner

Rifugio Bonatti

Hike to this mountainside hut and soak in the epic scenery of Val Ferret.

• Distance: 7 miles
• Time of Year: May through October

Col de la Seigne

For travelers looking for more of a challenge, this loop offers the perfect balance of technical trail and road.

• Distance: 13 miles
• Time of Year: July through September

Intermediate

Balconata della Val Ferret

This scenic point-to-point trail is easily accessible by bus and offers stunning views of Val Ferret.

• Distance: 5 miles
• Time of Year: June through October

Traverse this point-to-point route past mountain huts and lakes.

• Distance: 9 miles
• Time of Year: June to October

Advanced

Recommended for experienced hikers, this alpine trail explores the Val Sapin, with magnificent views along the way.

• Distance: 14 miles
• Time of Year: Summer

Col de MalatrĂ 

If you want the best views of Mont Blanc, this is the perfect out-and-back trail to add to your itinerary.

• Distance: 11 miles
• Time of Year: Summer

Try Something New

In addition to hiking, how else can outdoor enthusiasts experience Courmayeur?Ìę

So many ways!

Rent mountain bikes (analog or electric) to explore the trails.

Take the that climbs to 3,466 meters, offering a unique perspective of the area. From the Skyway, it’s also possible to hike on the nearby glacier by booking a trip with an experienced guide.

Explore the various via ferratas leading to guarded huts—shelters used by mountaineers and managed by guardians in warmer seasons—and unmanned bivouacs.

Climb at the many popular crags or to alpine peaks. Guides are available for both of these activities.

There are plenty of ways to get out and explore the outdoors in Courmayeur. But if the weather turns, the Courmayeur Sport Center offers all sorts of indoor activities, including ice skating, climbing, and tennis.

Relax in Paradise

What can travelers look forward to after a day of exploring?

Courmayeur is one the Alps’ most attractive villages, with restaurants and bars spilling out onto the car-free center. Aperitivo, gourmet dinners, pizza, traditional Italian food—whatever you crave, it’s available here. You can enjoy it all with a spectacular view of Mont Blanc and the Alps. If you’re looking for some peace and quiet outside the center, you’ll find plenty of restaurants in Val Veny and Val Ferret. Plus, there are shops with luxury brands, sports equipment, and local souvenirs.

For travelers who want a “home away from home” experience, consider staying at the . This alpine retreat has everything you need for a comfortable night’s rest, with each cozy room looking out on the surrounding nature. At the on-site spa, you can recharge with Secret des Alpes wellness treatments designed for post-alpine recovery, including skin brushing and mountain pasture butter massages, followed with a soak in the heated luxury pool.

There is a place where your imagination can turn into reality. Where leisure and relaxation come in all shades. A place where flavors can amaze, nature and its views can marvel. It is , a jewel guarded by the highest mountain in the Alps: the Mont Blanc.

After all, only when you reach the summit, you see everything clearly.

Enjoy Courmayeur Mont Blanc. Italy at its peak.

The post The Insider’s Guide to the Heart of the Italian Alps appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

There’s a saying in Iceland that’s sort of the country’s unofficial motto: Þetta reddast (sounds like “thetta rettast”). Like so many Icelandic words there isn’t a direct translation into English, but the essence of it is, “Ehhh, it’ll be fine…” My good friend , who lives in Reykjavik, tells me, “It’s a big part of our national identity. It’s what we say when we’re rolling with what’s going on, in the face of any kind of adversity.” It’s not as passive as it sounds, though. Rather, it’s about accepting the things you can’t control, and pivoting to adapt and alter the things you can.

This is sage advice for first-timers visiting one of the most rugged and remote island countries in the world. To call the weather “unpredictable” would be generous, and you never know what strange obstacles you might encounter—hello, volcanoes. There have been ongoing eruptions in the town of Grindavik in southern Iceland and tourists have been advised to avoid that area. But the rest of the country is open and if you’re willing to embody the Þetta reddast spirit, you’ll have an incredible time in an otherworldly place, especially if you’re game to travel to Iceland in the off-season.

In October, I finally went to scope it out for myself. My aforementioned buddy PĂ©tur was born and raised in Iceland before moving to California where he and I became friends in high school. He moved back during the pandemic, so I took the rare opportunity to see this majestic place through a local’s eyes. I spent two weeks traveling all over with him and other friends, pivoting a lot, experiencing weird weather, taking thousands of photos, and having an absolute blast. Here’s what I learned.

Why Travel to Iceland in the Shoulder Season?

An Icelandic adventure in the off-season (roughly autumn and spring) has a few distinct advantages:

It’s markedly cheaper.

While flights to Iceland are usually reasonable (I flew , which has a ton of direct flights from the U.S.), life on the ground can be pretty pricey. Accommodations, rental vehicles, tours, and just about everything that isn’t edible is less expensive if you don’t go during the summertime rush.

There are a heck of a lot less people.

Speaking of rush, you will see noticeably fewer tourists in the off-season. That translates to less-crowded trails, better photographs, and critically, easier last-minute bookings—key to your ability to adapt to changing conditions and still get the most out of your trip. More on that in a bit.

You actually get to see the Aurora Borealis.

You can usually only view the Northern Lights in the off-season. Iceland is so far north that during the summer high-season, the sky never gets dark enough for the aurora borealis to be visible. Iceland is one of the best places on the entire planet to see the lights, so if that’s on your bucket list, then bundle up and visit in the off season. (Stay tuned for specific recommendations on where to view them.)

Know Before You Go: Tips for Shoulder-Season Visits

Of course, visiting Iceland during shoulder season isn’t without its challenges. First and foremost, there’s the weather. Battered by the Atlantic Ocean just south of the Arctic Circle, you’re more likely to encounter rain, snow, and the notorious wind in colder months. Days are shorter, too, so you’ll want to get after it early.

Gear You Should Pack for Iceland

Layers will most definitely be your friend. And bring plenty. My daily outfit consisted of:

• Thermal tops and bottoms
• Thick wool hiking socks
• Pair of
• Smartwool hoodie
• (also a good windblocker)
• Pair of
• Super-warm wind/rain-proof
• Wind-proof

With that kit, I was plenty toasty even when the rain came down nearly sideways.

Get Your Tech Dialed: Oh, and make sure you bring a power adapter, because Iceland uses European plugs. I’d recommend grabbing at least one or two, plus an extension cord with a three-way splitter so you can charge up more gadgets at once.

Now, the fun stuff.

Getting Around Iceland: The Best Transportation Options

Iceland is one of those countries where you really want to have your own wheels. There are buses here and there, but if you’re chasing rugged adventures, vehicular autonomy is a must. Of course you could join a tour group, but then you’re stuck with someone else’s agenda and schedule, and you’ll likely be surrounded by tourists.

Be Sure to Rent the Right Rig

Selecting a vehicle plays a significant role in where you can and can’t go. Once the colder months hit, the roads get icy and snowy. Even if you plan to stay in hotels and avoid sleeping in your vehicle, I strongly recommend you rent a rig with all-wheel drive or four-wheel drive that has burly tires to match and that comes with ample clearance. This will enable you to drive safely off the beaten path and check out more of the country, with even fewer tourists around during the day. (As a starting point, check out , which features a fleet of different 4WD-equipped Toyotas starting from $84 per day.)

For a Bed on Wheels, Consider a Campervan or 4X4 with a Rooftop Tent

Cruising around Iceland by campervan or a rig with a rooftop tent is another solid option. You’ll see tons of these on the road, as most outdoor adventure enthusiasts go this route. There are a lot of cool camp spots all around the island, and combining your accommodations with your wheels can be a huge cost saver. Just make sure the van you’re renting has some sort of heater (diesel or propane) and make sure it has AWD or 4WD (again, plus rugged tires and clearance). If you opt for a rooftop tent, make sure you visit in the (warmer) colder months, like September and May, otherwise sleeping on top of your car in winds and frigid temps will be brutal otherwise.

No matter what, read reviews of your outfitter before you commit, because some offer SOS services—in varying degrees of reliability—and you don’t want to deal with a breakdown when you’re deep in Iceland’s backcountry.

Most campervans and roof tent rigs come with bedding, a camp kitchen, stove and fuel, and a plug-in cooler, all of which help facilitate maximum autonomy. For a small upcharge, you can opt for a WiFi router, which makes booking last-minute campsites and navigation easier. (As a starting point, check out for rooftop tent and campervan options. Prices vary.)

Stay on Top of Your Road Conditions Beta

Whichever vehicle you choose, the shows up-to-date road conditions and closures, and will save you essential time.

And be careful out there. Know your driving skills, and the limits of the vehicle you’re renting, and make sure the tires have tread that can handle the conditions you’ll encounter. If in doubt, don’t be an idiot and drive it.

Eating in Iceland: Always Expensive, Rarely Fantastic

Now would be a good time to mention food, and it’s not great news. For starters, grub in Iceland is almost universally pricey, owing largely to the fact that nearly everything has to be imported. It’s also not exactly a foodie haven (with some notable exceptions), so I’d recommend stocking up at a supermarket, like Bonus or Krónan, before you leave Reykjavik. Aside from staples like PB&J, grab an assortment of Icelandic yogurt (a.k.a. skyr). It’s delicious.

Don’t miss the cod jerky, either, which my friend PĂ©tur says is commonly dragged across a tub of Icelandic butter when you eat it. (I tried it, and can confirm it’s indeed tasty.) I also found the sweetest, crunchiest carrots I’ve ever had in my life, and you’ll want to try (or at least force yourself to try) the divisive, salted black licorice (aka salmiakbitar) the island is famous for.

When You Arrive in Iceland

You’ll land at Keflavík International Airport. If you’re coming from the U.S. you’ll likely arrive early in the morning on a red-eye, and may be very discombobulated. If so, and you’ve got the time, take it easy on your first day there by checking out the Reykjanes peninsula. Then, head to Reykjavik to scope out some of the museums and cultural sites (see below for specifics).

Must-Dos on the Reykjanes Peninsula

The 40-minute drive from the airport to the capital city is also absolutely stunning. You’ll pass fields of lava rock that seem to go on forever, and zip by the Instagram-famous . (Note: every Icelandic person I met rolled their eyes at it, though. It’s pretty, but overpriced, from $72, and loaded with tourists. It may also be closed depending on nearby volcanic eruptions.)

If you somehow manage to sleep on the plane and want to hit the ground running, there are a ton of cool spots right on the Reykjanes peninsula before you get to Reykjavik. Don’t miss:

• SeltĂșn Geothermal Area, with sulfury, bubbling, steaming mineral pools
• KrĂ­suvĂ­kurberg Cliffs, with a sheer drop into the pounding ocean below. (It’s so abrupt it looks like the ground just snapped off.)
• Reykjanes Lighthouse, right next to the beautiful rocky shore of ValahnĂșkamöl—both well worth exploring.

I had an absolutely incredible lobster soup at the Café Bryggjan in Grindavík, but unfortunately between then and writing this piece, a cluster of earthquakes and several nearby volcanic eruptions has effectively brought the quaint fishing village to its knees. The town literally sunk several feet and now has a deep, 1.2-mile long fissure running through the middle of it. Its future is currently unknown. Again, why you have to be ready to adapt in Iceland.

Explore Iceland’s Capital: What to See and Do in Reykjavik

Hit Up a Street Vendor or Restaurant for a Hot Dog: When you get to Reykjavik, first things first: Get yourself a hot dog. I regret to inform you, my fellow Americans, that we have been surpassed in hotdoggery, and not by a little. Icelandic dogs have crispy fried onions, multiple sauces, soft buns, and snappy wieners. I ate them almost every day.

Scope Out the Historic Downtown: Work off the hotdogs by checking out the historic downtown area on foot. The Einar Jónsson Museum features some statues that would make Rodin jealous, and there’s a lot to see around the waterfront, including the massive Harpa Concert Hall.

Visit a Real Locals’ Hot Spring: If you’re craving some hot spring action, check out one of the dozens of public pools (like , for roughly $10 per entry) in Reykjavik. No, they’re not glamorous like the aforementioned Blue Lagoon, but all of the heating in Iceland (including hot water) comes from geothermal activity. The water is high in mineral content and it’s deeply soothing. The pools are a massive part of the culture there and they feature several hot tubs at different temperatures, saunas, cold plunges, and even some waterslides.

Just make sure you adhere closely to the showering instructions (i.e. shower naked beforehand and wash your whole body with soap). The waters there are considered sacred to the locals, and disrespecting them by not following pre-soak protocol is one of the rare ways to piss Icelanders off. The public pools are also for socializing, and you’re likely to meet some friendly folks who may offer you insider tips. Effectively everybody in Iceland speaks English, but if you learn a few basic phrases in Icelandic before you show up, it’ll go a long way.

Dine Out on Lamb Stew: For dinner, grab yourself lamb stew (known as KjötsĂșpa, an Icelandic specialty), and pass out for the night before you hit the road bright and early.

The Shoulder-Season șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Itinerary for Iceland Newbies

As cool as Reykjavik is, that’s not what you came for, is it? Here’s what I did. My play-by-ear trip turned into a nice little loop through the west and south, though I recommend you use these ideas more for activity inspiration as opposed to an exact prescription. After all, no two days in the shoulder season are the same and there are endless possibilities. Here were my highlights:

Day 1: Hit Up Some Waterfalls and Hot Springs

Out of the city, our first big stop was Barnafoss, a couple hours northeast of Reykjavik, an utterly massive conglomeration of waterfalls. (FYI, “foss” means waterfall in Icelandic.) If there’s wind, wear your waterproof layers because the mist will soak you to the bone. It’s almost overwhelming to see so many waterfalls from one vantage point, and it’s an excellent place to work on your long exposure photography. (I recommend a tripod and a variable ND filter, along with a few absorbent lens-wipes.)

From there, we backtracked 20 minutes west and hit the natural hot springs at ($50). It’s not as Instagrammable as the Blue Lagoon (phones are actually discouraged at both), but you’ll find a nice array of geothermally heated tubs and saunas, along with traditional cold plunges. Plus, the mountainscape views are lovely.

Then, head west and drive out onto the SnĂŠfellsnes Peninsula. It’s a 55-mile strip of land that is basically a photographic sample platter of Iceland, including lava fields, waterfalls, epic black sand beaches, fjord views, hot springs, and the imposing Snaefellsjökull glacier volcano. I found the lava fields to be particularly gripping, with bright green moss covering an endless sea of black boulders.

We spent that night at the (“Oh hell nar,”) which was modest but clean, and it had some gorgeous ocean views (from $125 USD a night in the off-season).

Day 2: Hike the Rugged Coastline

From there we set out to the western tip of the Snéfellsnes Peninsula stopping at a few viewpoints around Londrangar, where you can stand atop some of the most rugged coastline you’ll ever see, featuring massive blue waves pounding jagged volcanic rock spires.

Make your way down to DjĂșpalĂłnssandur Beach and the DjĂșpalĂłn Lagoon, where you can hike along a shore covered with smooth, marble-like pebbles and a pool that looks like a prehistoric creature could emerge from it at any moment. This whole area gives strong “Land Before Time” vibes.

After that, we headed back east along the northern border of the peninsula, stopping at the stunning BĂŠjarfoss waterfall just outside of ÓlafsvĂ­k. My buddy PĂ©tur didn’t even get out of his car for that one. There are roughly 10,000 waterfalls in Iceland, many of them jaw-dropping, and apparently this wasn’t that exciting by his local standards.

We also swung by the SĂșgandisey Island Lighthouse, on the northernmost part of the peninsula, where we were greeted with a rainbow, and intense wind. We spent that night at the in Borgarnes (from $250), where I had a deliciously savory lamb steak for dinner.

Day 3: Trek to Less-Visited, Off-Road Waterfalls

Our next day was all about chasing more waterfalls. The first stop? The small but isolated Fitjarfoss. We were the only ones there, and it was incredibly tranquil. That was just a warmup, though, for the far more challenging four-mile hike to Glymur Falls, which is the second tallest waterfall in the country, at a staggering 650 feet. It’s a slippery and steep hike that involves at least one river crossing and a few scrambles over significant exposure—we’re talking hundreds of feet straight down to the rocky river below. It’s not for the faint of heart, but absolutely gorgeous on the ascent.

Unfortunately, the crossing was washed out when we visited, so we hiked up the near side of the river as far as we could go. Luckily, PĂ©tur had a drone that could fly the rest of the way and get some great shots. Still, it was 100% worth it.

We then made our way to a gorgeous complex of outdoor hot springs called (from roughly $35 per adult). It’s right on Laugarvatn Lake so we alternated between hot soaks and saunas and natural icy plunges—the perfect remedy for our aching joints.

Day 4: Visit the Highlights of the Golden Circle

The next part of our plan was to take a ferry out to the stunning Westman Islands, but nature had other ideas. 60 mph winds and 18-foot sea swells not only made the passage unappealing, but impossible, as ferry service was canceled for several days. But this is where having more options in shoulder season really comes in clutch. We were able to cancel all our reservations, and because virtually every hotel in the country had vacancies, we just headed away from the wind.

We bet that the harsher weather would equal fewer tourists, so we hit some of the more popular spots along the famous Golden Circle—the most visited day-trip-style route outside of Reykjavik, if you don’t have time to drive the whole Ring Road around the island.

This portion of our trip included visiting the absolutely massive, Niagara-ish waterfall, Gullfoss. Sure, there were still plenty of tourists, and the wind stirred up the mist which made it feel like it was raining, but it’s a breathtaking thing to behold.

Nearby, there’s also Geysir, which—fun fact—is the geyser that gave all other geysers their name. It’s Icelandic for “to gush.” It’s only erupted twice in the last 25 years, but the adjacent Strokkur geyser goes off roughly every 10 minutes about 60 to 120 feet into the air, and still puts on a killer show. The whole area has a lot of cool geothermal features with a sort of Icelandic Yellowstone vibe, and you can hike all around the area to get a bunch of vantage points.

It’s also well worth visiting , a stunning area where all the old clans of Iceland used to meet annually to decide the laws and policies for the upcoming year. It also has a lake, waterfalls, and a museum with tons of artifacts. This place is steeped in history (some of it tragic) and is a sacred place to Icelanders, so be on your best, most respectful behavior here.

Day 5: Surf Your Heart Out

Surfing the Icelandic coast was one bucket-list item I thought I’d never get to check off. In the weeks leading up to my trip, though, I started reading articles about how the best, most-consistent wave in the whole country was at risk of being demolished. The point at ÞorlĂĄkshöfn (near Thorli Beach) is an incredible, peeling right-hander that just goes and goes like a good day at Malibu. Unlike Malibu, though, you’re likely to have four, not 400, other people in the lineup. It’s been a secret spot for ages, but the mayor of the town of ÞorlĂĄkshöfn (and other city council members) seem intent on filling it in with boulders to make room for more warehouses around an expanded harbor. So the local surfers decided it’s better to tell the world than risk its destruction. Unfortunately, the town started filling it in already, despite not yet having environmental permits to alter the coastline, and that has abruptly cut off the end section of the wave. It’s tragic. Watch more on the save-the-wave initiative, here:

I reached out to Steinarr Lár, one of the surfers leading the fight to save the wave that is at the very center of Icelandic surf culture and community. He was gracious enough to lend me a board, a thick wetsuit, booties, and gloves, though if you want to experience surfing Iceland for yourself, link up with , which organizes surf tours (starting from $350 per day) and can provide you with everything you’ll need. They’re also deeply involved in activism surrounding the wave.

After suiting up in the parking lot, I scrambled over about 80 yards of slippery, seaweed-covered boulders, and then it was pure magic. The waves were between three and four feet tall, with a gentle paddle in, and they ran for nearly a full minute (apparently longer on bigger days). The locals were friendly, the wetsuit kept me plenty warm, and we all got enough waves to turn our arms to spaghetti.

It’s an incredible natural resource, and the idea of it being filled in to fill a few people’s pockets is frankly outrageous, in my opinion. Go surf it while you can and spread the word.

Days 6 and 7: Treat Yourself to a Northern Lights Wake-Up Call

After roughing it for several days, I decided to opt for some luxury. My friend PĂ©tur, who works for a , says that whenever people’s top priority is seeing the Northern Lights, he books them at the (pronounced ron-cow, from $340 per night in shoulder season) because it’s sort of isolated on a big dark plane. Think: 360-degree views. It also has an observatory for stargazing when the lights aren’t visible, and there’s a button on your phone to order a wake-up call in the middle of the night should the lights pop up. It was easily the nicest place I stayed during my entire trip, and it’s a perfect base camp for all south-coast adventures.

Iceland’s version of upscale is different from what you might expect, coming from the U.S. If you have Four Seasons or Ritz expectations, you may be surprised to find that things are a bit more low-key here. Hotel Rangá is still very nice, but it’s more rustic and minimalist—at least in the more basic rooms. (The master suites are each decked out like a different continent and they went all-out.)

That said, its restaurant featured the tastiest food I ate the entire time, with exquisite, tender lamb, fish, and even reindeer carpaccio. They can also organize a candle-lit dinner in a grass-covered cave that used to be an ancient dwelling centuries ago. It’s a must-stay, and wouldn’t you know it, despite none being forecast, we managed to see the aurora on two of the nights we crashed there.

My phone rang around 11 P.M. and I was told the lights were visible. I had pre-arranged many layers of clothes and all my camera gear, just in case. So I threw it all on, rushed out the door, and wow, the sky was lit up with waving, green curtains. There’s a river and a pond behind the hotel, so I played with reflections in my photos, and hooted in joy as colorful ribbons raced over the roof of the hotel. Truly, there’s no other life experience like it.

Bonus: Get Off Road to Tackle Far-Flung Backcountry șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍűs

For the last few days of my trip, I wanted to get into some of the places where my friend’s little AWD hatchback couldn’t take me, so I linked up with (also recommended by my friend’s company). We did three expeditions in three days, and each of them got me way off the beaten path. Separately, from that, I also rode some Icelandic horses. Here’s how all of that went:

Take a Buggy Tour into the Wilderness

This is one of the best ways to really get out there away from everybody else. These “buggies” are two-seat 4X4 ATVs complete with roll cages, and we headed out to Emstrur, which was an all-day adventure on dirt roads, crossing a dozen small creeks. There were waterfalls, glaciers, and stunning rock formations throughout these mountains, and we didn’t see anybody else on the long road. (Full day tours start at roughly $660, but they also have one-hour and 2.5-hour options.)

Explore the Katla Ice Caves

The next day was my favorite expedition, a trek out to explore the Katla Ice Caves (from $205 per person). This is an ever-changing system of ice caves at the end of the Myrdalsjokull glacier. It included a massive ice-arch big enough to fly a decent sized plane through, as well as the chance to explore deep into otherworldly tunnels made of light blue ice, with streams and waterfalls flowing through them.

We even got to do a bit of ice climbing. You’ll be provided with crampons, so make sure you bring boots sturdy enough to support them (this was the one day my Altras weren’t quite up to the task). On the way back we visited three more jaw-dropping waterfalls, including Gljufrabui—which is hidden in a narrow slot canyon—and Seljalandsfoss, which you can hike behind for some stunning canyon views.

Cruise Around Landmannalaugar

The last day there was spent exploring in what is affectionately known in Iceland as a SuperJeep (starting around $300). It wasn’t actually a jeep at all, but a kitted out 4WD Mercedes Sprinter van. We went deep into the interior highlands of Landmannalaugar, exploring paths cut by glaciers and massive extinct craters. Of course, there were more waterfalls (just countless!), but my highlight was a gorgeous natural hot spring in the middle of the Fjallabak Nature Reserve. It was the perfect way to relax at the end of a long trip.

Ride Iceland’s Famous Wild Horses

Of course, that isn’t the only way to relax. From Rangá you’re just a quick drive to the coast, or if you want something you truly can’t find anywhere else, go to (rides start around $85/person). Iceland’s horses have been isolated on the island for more than 1,000 years and they have evolved in unique ways, including developing stout bodies, luscious manes, and two specific gaits that only they can perform. They’re incredibly smooth to ride and it’s a fun way to see the grasslands of this stunning country.

Heliski Iceland’s Big Peaks March to June

There’s one more adventure I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention: heliskiing or snowboarding from the top of a peak to the shore of the Arctic Ocean. And you can do it with the boutique operation. Based on the far north side of the island, this outfitter offers everything from three to six-day packages that include meals, rentals, avalanche gear, airport transfers, and luxurious accommodations at the . (Prices start at roughly $7,200 per person for the three-day package.)

Tragically, I didn’t get to do this myself (yet!), but from speaking with those who have (and feasting my eyes on photos and video), the terrain you’ll encounter up there is unlike anywhere else. The mountain surfaces tend to be smooth and steep, so they hold powder well and allow for massive, open-faced carves. You’re guaranteed 15,000 vertical feet a day (which is more than you get at most heliski operations), and some runs will take you all the way down to the beach. At night you can enjoy the hotel’s hot tubs, saunas, and the Northern Lights if your timing is right. The season starts in mid-March and goes until mid-June (where you may be able to ski as late as midnight). Dreamy, indeed.

The Bottom Line: I’m in Love with Off-Season Iceland

Perhaps you’ve gathered this much already, but Iceland blew my mind. And now, I really only want to come back during shoulder season. Yes, the weather was tough at times, and sure, not every road was accessible, but traveling during the shoulder season saved me money and paved the way for a better experience. Plus, you simply can’t beat having far fewer tourists around. So bundle up, plan ahead, and if you have to adapt a little? Well, Þetta reddast


Brent Rose has been covering adventure and gear for șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű for more than a decade. When he’s not writing, you can find him surfing, snowboarding, hiking, or camping, usually somewhere in California. He’s also on Instagram at or his website at brentrose.com.

The post Why You Should Go to Iceland in the Off-Season appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

On my first inhale after leaving the puddle jumper that had brought us to the Kittila Airport, my nose hairs froze. Despite it being 9 a.m., the stars still winked overhead, here at the top of the world. It was minus 4 degrees outside.

Descending the gangway onto the icy tarmac in Finnish Lapland was a dream come true. I recognize I’m in the minority, being a person whose idea of fun is hanging out above the Arctic Circle in January, but exploring polar night in the frozen north was my bucket list adventure.

Well, it wasn’t actually polar night, I reminded myself as my husband, Topher, and I drove the 20 minutes from the airport to the ski town of Levi where we’d be staying. Polar night–that time at either pole when the sun never crests the horizon–had ended a couple weeks earlier and days were hovering around four hours in length already. But it was close enough.

I’d gotten incredulous questions from more than a few people before coming here. Northern Finland? In January? Really? I, myself, had dubiously seen Finland atop the World Happiness Report since 2018—it was once again named #1 in March 2024—and wondered how a country known for pickled herring and the wild vacillations between light and darkness could really be the happiest on earth. That couldn’t possibly be good for your circadian rhythms, right?

But then, I stumbled upon photos of fluffy-looking frozen Nordic pines against cotton candy skies, dog sleds racing through pristine forests and the Northern Lights dancing across the heavens. There was an undeniable pull that I couldn’t get out of my head. I’m a visual, gut feeling traveler. I don’t particularly care about ‘best of’ lists or wonders of the world. All it takes is a scroll through Google Images to convince me where to go. That’s how we ended up in Lapland, the Arctic region that spans Norway, Sweden, and Finland. It wasn’t easy or cheap to get here, and I knew I wouldn’t be doing my chronically Vitamin-D deprived self any favors by choosing an even colder, darker destination than my home in the Colorado Rockies, but I couldn’t look away.

Our plan was to spend five days skiing, dog sledding and, hopefully, spotting the Northern Lights. On that first, jet-lag-hazed day, we made our way up the mountain, or “fell” in Finnish, to the top of Levi Ski Resort during the scant few hours before darkness. Down at the lower elevations, the sun hadn’t quite risen above the horizon, but up on the fell, we were bathed in glorious, golden light. The trees, coated with a layer of ice and snow, looked like characters out of a children’s book. The weak sunlight and sub-zero temperatures kept everything perfectly frozen. I’d been in Finland for mere hours, but I was already feeling the magic sweep over me, only intensified when I caught sight of reindeer munching on lichen in the snow.

How does Finland keep earning the top ranking? The report, produced by Gallup, the Oxford Wellbeing Research Centre, the UN Sustainable Development Solutions Network, and the WHR’s Editorial Board, measures happiness by asking the residents of countries across the globe a single question. After all, no one is better equipped to report on happiness levels than the folks who are being measured in the first place.

Gallup asks poll participants to evaluate their lives on a 0 to 10 scale and then the rankings are taken from a three year time frame. The report then goes on to explain these rankings using six factors: GDP per capita, social support, healthy life expectancy, freedom, generosity, and corruption. In 2021-23, Finns ranked their lives at 7.741, an entire point above my home country of the United States and six points higher than the lowest ranking country, Afghanistan.

Economist Jeffery Sachs put it like this in a :“The idea is a good balance of life.”

Each year when Finland is crowned the Happiest Country in the World again, a slew of articles comes out trying to explain it. Last year a Finnish psychologist pointed to a lost , touting community trust as a factor. The country’s highlights reasoning that also makes for good travel marketing: the ability to see the Northern Lights, sauna culture, warm and welcoming locals.

The desire to quantify, and therefore be able to replicate, such an essential human experience as happiness makes sense. Humans have been chasing it since the dawn of time. The more I researched happiness though, I started to think that it was a slippery, elusive state that’s more than the sum of its parts. I spent five days above the Arctic Circle in Finland, getting out in nature, immersing myself in culture, eating incredible food, and being present. By the end of my trip, I could feel deep in my chest that there was something special about this place. I hadn’t seen the sun since we’d left Denver. Every time we left the Airbnb, even if it was just for dinner, I donned every item of clothing I’d brought with me. This included a pair of clear-lensed goggles that kept my contact lenses from freezing. The cold reverberated so deeply in my bones, I wondered if I’d ever be warm again. It was madness. But I’ve never enjoyed a trip more.

Video by Mikaela Ruland

It’s easy to quantify why Finns are happier than Afghanis, but it’s harder to explain why they’re happier than their Scandinavian counterparts. I’ve yet to visit Denmark or Iceland, the other two countries that reside in the top three spots on the 2024 World Happiness Report, but I do know how Finland made me feel. Happy. Here’s why.

1. Finland Makes Access to Nature a Priority

Kilometers to miles had gotten muddled up in my head and halfway across the frozen lake, icy winds buffeting us from seemingly every direction, I knew it was time to bail. The permanent sunset was staining the sky a dusky pink, and I tried to focus on the slide, glide, slide, glide of my cross-country skis on the groomed trail. When we finally reached the shelter of the trees, I pulled my fingers out of my gloves for a precious few seconds to check the map. Luckily for us, the entirety of Levi was ringed by miles and miles of groomed ski trails. We certainly weren’t going to make it the entire loop I’d charted for us, but we easily picked another trail and headed back towards town.

Finally free of the wind, I began to notice the other folks we passed on the trail. There were skate skiers and traditional skiers, dog walkers and snowshoers, families with kids and older couples whose ski suits looked straight out of the 80s. On occasion, our trail crossed a snowmobile track. Above us, on the fell, downhill skiers and snowboarders carved the slopes. Despite the cold and the shortly impending darkness, locals and tourists alike were out enjoying the incredible access to nature that Levi provided.

When I researched Lapland, I was overwhelmed by choice. There are dozens of towns scattered across northern Finland, even more if you factor in Sweden and Norway, each offering its own flavor with a distinct central theme: easy access to top notch outdoor recreation of any style. After another kilometer, we were planting our skis in a snowbank and sitting down to eat pizza and warm up. We didn’t even have to get in a car— the trails were accessible from our Airbnb’s front door.

One day, we skied to a reindeer farm, our pockets filled with salty licorice, and drank cocoa in front of a roaring fire in a little cafe. Another day, we were given a brief overview and sent careening down a trail behind our own team of eight sled dogs with All Huskies Sled Dog Safaris. Topher and I took turns driving, one of us bundled up in the sled while the other threw their weight into the turns, stepped desperately on the brakes on the downhills, and ran behind the sled on the uphills. It was exhilarating, gliding through the snowy forest and working in tandem with the enthusiastic dogs to cross the snow. When our guides released all eight teams of dogs after the run, it was the best kind of chaos, as more than 60 elated animals ran through the yard.

2. Finland Stays Connected to its Heritage

That first day when we ventured up the fell, we were on our way to Samiland, a UNESCO Observatory cultural village site. The extensive indoor exhibit introduced us to the Sami, an Indigenous group of people whose traditional homelands encompass northern Norway, Sweden, Finland, and Russia. We learned about the different groups of Sami, their history, culture, and traditions, and then went outside to wander through a replica Sami village which included two very adorable, live reindeer. Reindeer were, and remain, an integral part of Sami culture. We’d come to learn that reindeer herding was not just a relic of Scandinavia’s past, but a vibrant and important part of the region’s present and future.

Thirty-three percent of Finland is designated as reindeer husbandry area. In Norway and Sweden, reindeer herding remains the exclusive privilege of the Sami people. In Finland, any EU citizen can own reindeer, as long as they are approved by the reindeer herding district’s board, but the industry still remains largely Sami. Visiting Samiland, which was embedded in Levi Ski Resort and shared a building with a luxury hotel, I was struck by how the Indigenous culture was at the forefront of the narrative here in Finland, a stark difference to the U.S.

That evening, we waited with a group of expectant diners in the lobby of the Hotel K5 in Levi before several servers in traditional dress appeared to lead us outside and down into the Earth. At Saamen Kammi, visitors like us can experience a traditional Sami meal in an underground hut. In the circular room, we sat around the central cooking area, taking in our surroundings. The walls and ceilings were made of pine boughs and there were reindeer hides on the walls. The smell of meat cooking over hot coals wafted up to us, making our stomachs grumble. As we ate our meal, we learned that many of the ingredients were foraged from the surrounding forest, a practice that feels like it should be relegated to the tables of fine dining restaurants but is commonplace in Finland. In a world exceedingly saturated with styrofoam and plastic packaged foods, it’s a piece of their heritage that they’ve somehow retained. After dinner, we were treated to music and dance by a Sami father-daughter duo performing traditional Joik music.

Samiland and Saamen Kammi were just two examples of the ways in which a town with a year round population of 600 weaves their heritage into everyday life. From reindeer farms to restaurants to warming huts along ski routes, we never forgot about the history and culture of the place we were visiting.

3. Finnish Food Is Delicious and Healthy

When I pitched this vacation to my husband, I made sure to include the caveat that it wouldn’t be a “food trip.” While we usually plan our travels around all the incredible things we’re going to eat, I couldn’t imagine that winter in northern Finland was going to be that kind of trip. I’d even gone so far as to book Airbnbs with kitchens so we could cook our own meals if the food proved to be disappointing. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

My first hint that I was mistaken came in the Helsinki Airport, an unexpectedly beautiful space that looked like Ikea’s chic older sister. After a delayed flight and missed connections, we’d unexpectedly had to spend the night in an airport hotel, eating granola bars for dinner. Early the next morning we were ravenous and filled up our trays at the airport cafe with cardamom buns and thick toast topped with lox. It was the best airport meal of my life.

While Saamen Kammi was a beautiful cultural experience, it was also one of my favorite meals ever. Dinner started with steaming bowls of clear salmon soup, perfumed heavily with dill. Around the central fireplace, we filled our plates with roasted and sauteed reindeer, planks of salmon set above the flames and covered with a creamy dill sauce, mashed potatoes and winter vegetables. For dessert, we had squeaky Lappish bread cheese with preserved cloudberries. I was blown away. Every ingredient was locally sourced and despite feet of snow outside, the meal in front of us was deeply connected to the land. The reindeer meat was so good that I couldn’t even muster guilt when I conjured their cute faces to mind. Rich and sweet, without too much gamey flavor, it quickly became my favorite component of Finnish meals.

Another night in Levi, we ordered sauteed reindeer with lingonberries and a reindeer burger at Nili Poro, an intimate, warm spot run by a local reindeer herder. The interior was covered in pelts and wood and candles flickered on the tables. We drank glogg, spiced mulled wine, and asked for seconds of the incredible “fell bread” the Sami chef bakes on his mother’s stove every morning. At Ristorante Renna, my husband had reindeer sausage and lingonberries on a pizza and I gambled and ordered a smoked salmon pie, complete with cucumber, dill cream sauce, and arugula. It was the most interesting–and delicious–pizza I’ve ever eaten.

While we didn’t find much of a fika culture in Finland, at least in Levi, we were delighted by Campfire Barista at the base of the slopes. On a cart pulled by snowmobile, owner Steffan brews coffee and crafts lattes over an open fire as you watch. Our lattes tasted like spruce and woodsmoke.

And I couldn’t get enough of the grocery store bins full of black licorice, tasting strong and salty. I brought bags of it home on the plane. What started out as an adventure vacation turned into one of my favorite food trips.

4. The Northern Lights, Saunas, and an Appreciation for the Present Moment

I’d imagined that the Finns somehow managed to rank as the happiest country on Earth despite the near constant winter darkness, but during our week in Lapland, I learned that they did so in spite of it.

Yes, during the few daylight hours each day we encountered plenty of locals and visitors alike on the trails, taking advantage of the light to ski and snowshoe and walk, but when darkness settled back in, we still passed folks pushing strollers, meeting friends for a meal and going about their day, all with a smile on their faces.

Many of us fell in love with Cecilia Blomdahl’s slice-of-life from Svalbard (an island close to the North Pole) during the pandemic, and I saw her perspective on polar night reflected on the faces of many of the locals we interacted with: “Polar night is something we get to experience, rather than endure.”

The glow of streetlights on snow, the stars overhead, and the crisp feeling of a long night quickly won me over, but my excitement for the darkness mostly stemmed around the My Aurora Forecast app I obsessively started checking as soon as the color faded from the skies each day. The first few nights, I had alarms set throughout the hours I should have been asleep to check the Northern Lights prediction. I knew it was a slim chance—so many people I’d chatted with who had been to the Arctic had never spotted them—but I was hopeful.

Halfway through dinner on our third night, I got an alert. I checked the webcams, scouring the skies on my screen for any hint of green. There it was. Or were my eyes playing tricks on me? I’d been staring at the tiny box for days, maybe I was hallucinating. My husband confirmed it was definitely a green glow. We left our half-eaten meal on the table and rushed up to the top of the fell where the skies were dark and fairly clear. We waited in the freezing car, our breath fogging up the windows, and peeked outside every few seconds. Then, all of a sudden, the Northern Lights appeared.

Tendrils of green danced across the dark skies, coming from every direction. We stumbled around the parking lot, giggling like little kids and staring at this precious wonder before us. I was shocked by how dynamic they were, undulating ribbons in constant motion. We stayed out in the cold for 20 minutes until the clouds obscured our view. That miraculous show ended up being the only time all week we’d spot them, despite having booked a glass-roofed Airbnb the next day. I’d dashed off a few quick shots on my camera, but left my phone in the car. It’d been a magical moment I’d allowed myself to be fully present for, a rarity these days.

We’d read a Sami legend that the Northern Lights came from a fox brushing her tail along the snow, the moonlight reflecting on the snowflakes she’d swept up. On the drive home, a fox crossed the road in front of us, pausing in our headlights. The solar cycle is peaking in 2024, meaning the Northern Lights are supposed to be some of the best of our lifetime. I can’t think of a better way to connect with the present moment than by chasing them across the Arctic.

After each frozen adventure, we’d return to our Airbnb and turn on the sauna. With one sauna for every two Finns, the country is replete with them. Sauna culture is such an integral part of everyday Finnish life, that it was inscribed into UNESCO’s list of intangible cultural heritage in 2020. Sauna isn’t just about cleansing the body, it’s also about cleansing the mind and finding a sense of inner peace. It wasn’t hard to find vacation rentals that included them—in fact ones without were the rarity. When the rocks were hot, we’d step inside and ladle in water, letting the steam sink into our bones and melt the lingering cold from our bodies. In a sauna, you can’t scroll social media or check the news. With no windows to the outside world, the only option is to be present in the current moment. To sit and to let my shoulders relax and just be. It was a foreign concept, but one I quickly fell in love with.

On the plane ride home, my head started to pound. It took me half an hour to realize it was because the sun was streaming in through the windows, my eyes already unused to the bright light. I closed the window and let myself bask in the darkness for a few more hours.

Mikaela Ruland is the Associate Content Director for National Park Trips. This year, she is exploring as much of Europe as she can. She recently skied in Zermatt and the Italian Dolomites.Ìę

The post What I Discovered About Happiness in Finland appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

It’s a Friday afternoon in fall, and the A27 highway is deserted as small Italian villages and dormant farmland pass by the windows of our rental car. I’m focused on the true crime podcast coming through the speakers when the low layer of clouds suddenly parts. The gasp I make rattles my husband Topher, who jerks the wheel in concern that we’re about to hit something. It’s a tense thirty seconds of me unhelpfully squealing, “look, look, look!” before he sees the mountains, too. Like out of a dream, the peaks I’ve been fantasizing about for years get closer and closer as we eat up the kilometers: the Dolomites.

Topher, our 60-pound dog, and I are driving from Croatia. I’m craning my neck to take in the imposing, snow-dusted peaks as we rapidly start climbing through a valley carved by a river blue gray with glacial run-off. I’d fallen in love with Italy before I could even point to it on a map thanks to my dad’s Navy stint there in the 80s. I grew up on stories of pasta swimming in garlic, skiing across international borders, and crazy Italian drivers—all punctuated by the wild gesticulation my folks had picked up while living there. When we finally crossed the Atlantic on my first international flight to visit Tuscany the summer I turned 18, it was like seeing a favorite musician in concert for the first time. My love was firmly cemented.

As I got older and honed my passions, most of which revolve around big mountains I can hike or ski or bike, I stumbled upon photos of the Dolomites. The home of storied alpinists like Reinhold Messner, the mythical looking mountains, so different from the Rockies I grew up in, enchanted me. I showed my mountaineer dad pictures, and he corrected my pronunciation. The Doh-loh-mee-tee—not the frequent American mispronunciation doh-low-mights—were definitely badass, he confirmed.

The more elevation we gain, the less I’m paying attention to the podcast. I finally pause it so I can more effectively ooh and ahh. I’d planned our fall trip to hopefully coincide with the changing of the larch trees—conifers straight out of a Dr. Seuss book, with furry looking branches filled with needles that turn gold in October and drop to the ground in winter. I hadn’t accounted for the rest of the foliage hitting its peak this same weekend. The hillsides are practically glowing in every shade from yellow to orange to red. Each new valley we enter is ringed by endless rocky peaks, the most delicate coating of snow clinging to their crevices. Still-green meadows sprawl out underneath them and perfect little villages with terracotta roofs cling to the sides of the narrow road as it winds up, up, up. I’m torn between memorizing the names of the peaks from Google Maps so I can come back and explore them, and just soaking in their grandeur.

We drive through the ski town of Cortina »ć’AłŸ±è±đłúłúŽÇ and head up a windy road towards a looming pass. Many of the buildings along the route are emblazoned with the red squirrel symbol of the Scoiattoli Cortina mountaineering and ski club, a group of alpinists world renowned for their first ascents of the east wall of Mount BlancÌęand most of the peaks surrounding us now. We’re on hallowed ground.

Declared a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2009, I’m not alone in my adoration of the Dolomites. Stretching nearly 550 square miles across northeastern Italy, the mountain range is home to more than 12 ski resorts, including the two-time winter Olympics destination of Cortina »ć’AłŸ±è±đłúłúŽÇ. The jagged peaks and serene valleys are an outdoor enthusiast’s dream come true. You can hike, climb, and mountain bike in the summer, ski, snowshoe and ice skate natural lakes in the winter. With 18 3,000-meter peaks and countless mountain villages blending Austrian and Italian architecture, there’s a lifetime worth of exploration in this region.

I’m sure Topher is tired of me saying “This is wild,” but I can’t find any other words. Travel writers are fond of declaring a place fairytale-like, but the peaks and valleys surrounding me feel more like something out of a fantasy novel. I half expect a dragon to come flying out from behind the nearest summit. The road leads us through a golden forest, and I realize the larches I was so keen to see don’t require hiking to view. They surround us on all sides.

We arrive at the summit of Passo Tre Croci and check-in to our no frills hotel perched above the village of Cortina D’Ampezzo below. There’s a trailhead leading away from the parking lot, and we frolic down it for a ways, letting the dog stretch her legs in the dying light. When we get to our room, I throw the windows wide open and take pictures of the sun turning the peaks pink until the stars come out. The bartender downstairs pours us Aperol spritzes and lets the dog make herself at home on a thick pelt acting as a rug. Then she returns with a plate of ham and cheese sandwiches with delicate grill marks from the panini press for us, and I can tell Italy has already won my husband over.

The next morning, the sky is still dark and star-studded as we drive back down the pass, through Cortina, and up the mountains across the valley toward the Ponte di Rocurto trailhead where we had chosen to hike. All the cafes we pass are closed, making me glad I’d downed a cup of sludgy instant coffee in the room.

The road is already lined with cars when we get there and the sun still hasn’t risen. It’s as bad as some of Colorado’s notoriously crowded fourteeners, but I reason with myself—and Topher—that the trail leads to several multi-day routes, with mountain huts along the way, so maybe the hike won’t be that busy. We get lucky as we start climbing the six-mile trail to Lago Federa and don’t see another soul. The route is steeper than we’d banked on and so we hike quietly, aside from our heavy breathing.

As we pass gaps in the trees, the mountain on the other side of the valley shows itself, powdered sugar snow clinging to the face, clouds playing peek-a-boo with us as we go. The first of the sunlight filters through the canopy and sets the golden larches around us aglow. The trail is covered in a thick carpet of needles and my breath fogs. I wonder if it would be macabre to tell Topher to scatter my ashes in this mountain range when I die, having been here for less than 12 hours. I look back down the trail at him, slogging his way unhappily up the incline, and think better of it.

That doesn’t change the sentiment, though, as my dog and I power up the trail. I start flipping through my mental list of the prettiest places I’ve ever been. An achingly still morning canoeing across Washington’s Lake Crescent. The streets of Paris. Sunset in my favorite valley outside of Aspen, Colorado. The frozen forests of Finnish Lapland, the Northern LightsÌędancing across the sky. There’s a split in the trail and shows a short path ending in a binoculars symbol. Topher is out of sight at this point, so the dog and I take the detour. Tears spring to my eyes as we reach the fence at the end, keeping us from plummeting off the cliff. It doesn’t matter which direction I look, striking mountains peeking out from behind wispy clouds, golden hillsides and postcard-worthy villages crowned by church spires sprawl out in front of me. There’s no competition. This is the prettiest place I’ve ever been.

When Topher arrives, I watch him take in the scene before pulling out his phone to snap a picture. He’s still grumpy from the more-than-we-bargained-for hiking grade, but I can tell he’s enchanted, too. The trail levels out and before we know it we’re approaching the lake we’ve come to see. The curved horn of Croda da Lago’s peak reflects in the glass-still water, the entire scene bathed in a warm glow where the sun hits the thousands of larches around us. The lake is lined with photographers, but everyone speaks in the hushed, reverent tones the landscape demands.

We take a million photos and wander the shore, soaking in the autumn sun and the stunning views. On the far side of the lake, we post up on the patio of a mountain hut called and drink cappuccinos and eat ricotta cake and apple strudel. This rifugio, one of the few open this late in the season, takes overnight guests, but not dogs. I’m already pining to come back next summer, my eyes focused on the trail that wanders over the next ridgeline, surely leading towards more incredible beauty, delicious food, and heart pumping climbs.

That evening, we tuck ourselves into a booth in the back of a tiny restaurant called Il Vizietto di Cortina, which is full to bursting. The night before we’d tried the local specialties—beetroot ravioli covered in butter and poppyseeds (casunziei) and Ampezzo potatoes cooked with caramelized onions and speck. Tonight we’re trying dishes from other regions of Italy, and our table is soon laden down with bowls of seafood spaghetti dotted with scampi and clams, Amatriciana with speck and cherry tomatoes, and Aperol spritzes (even though it’s cold enough for puffies). There’s twinkle lights in the windows and the soundtrack is a cacophony of ItalianÌęand bottles being uncorked and clinking forks, and while I’m a hopeless romantic when someone sets a bowl of pasta in front of me, this too is excruciatingly beautiful.

I’d sketched out a few hopeful hikes for the next morning, but when we awake our feet are tired and the sky is gloomy. The 8.3-mile hike to Lago di Sorapis’ Gatorade-blue waters will have to wait until next time. Instead, we find a local bakery and save a pair of backpacking Brits who don’t have any cash and are trying to buy a baguette. We marvel at the croissants and cornettos we’ve filled our bag with as we wind up the mountain.

Our target is Cinque Torri—the five rock towers visible from town. In the summer, there’s a lift running up to its base. In the off season, there’s a steep, several-mile trail under the chairlift or a dubious looking road travel bloggers have warned us against. I give Topher the choice—he’s heard there’s a World War I museum at the top so there’s no turning back now—and he opts to maneuver our little rental car with a concerning lack of ground clearance up the dirt road. It’s not long before we pass an abandoned Land Rover and I grip the sides of my seat, reminding myself of all the wild places he’s navigated our Subaru back home. Maybe we should have opted for the additional insurance.

Before long we’ve climbed out of the trees and park underneath a rifugio that’s boarded up for the off-season. Above our heads, the towers loom large. We climb a short, muddy road and find ourselves at the top of the ski lift. Below us, bunkers from World War I are hidden amongst the rocks so well I can’t pick them out.ÌęHere, the Italian Army made their stand against the Austro-Hungarians. We wander through the bunkers, peering out through gun sights and reading information panels, imagining what the young men who were stationed here more than a hundred years earlier had been thinking. It starts snowing, itty bitty flakes that melt the second they hit my jacket.

It’s time to drive home, fueled by cappuccinos and ricotta cake from a restaurant we pass on the way back down to Cortina. As we head through the last tunnel, leaving the Dolomites for the plains below, I promise myself this won’t be the last time I visit. I’ve already got plans swimming through my mind of ski trips and hikes between rifugios, and for the first time in years I think about starting to rock climb again. There’s a siren song from these mountains, beckoning me up and up and up. Who am I not to listen?

is the associate content director for . This year, she and her husband Topher are spending as much as time as possible exploring in Europe.ÌęÌęÌęÌę

Ìę

The post These Are the Most Beautiful Mountains I’ve Ever Seen appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

With its glaciers, fjords, volcanoes, Northern Lights displays, and distinct culture, there’s no question Iceland is a bucket list-worthy destination. But regardless of how amazing a trip is, many travelers don’t pay the full price for their vacation until they get home and have to wade through an overflowing email inbox.Ìę

Visit Iceland, the country’s tourism bureau, has a new offering to sweeten the deal: Out-horse your email. It’s exactly what it sounds like: outsourcing work emails to a real Icelandic horse that’s been trained to type on a gigantic, horse-sized keyboard. “Disconnect from work and let the horses of Iceland reply to your emails while you are on vacation. (Seriously),” promises.Ìę

The three equine writers-for-hire have different strengths. The all-white HrĂ­mnir and black-and-white maned Hekla both sound like consummate professionals, with rĂ©sumĂ© descriptions like, “Assertive. Efficient. Shiny hair,” and “Friendly, trained in corporate buzzwords.” But personally, I would probably hire brown Litla, who, like me, “Types fast, but might take a nap.”Ìę

In , Visit Iceland shows the horses clip-clopping their hooves on a gigantic custom keyboard. While the animals have no trouble operating the keys, they don’t appear to have refined it to the point of actually spelling anything—which could be an issue.Ìę

Certainly, we would love nothing more than to enlist a talented horse (or personal assistant of any species) to take care of things at work while we’re on vacation and spare us any interruptions or dreaded slew of unread emails. But there’s a kernel of wisdom at the heart of the irreverent offer. A horse pawing at a keyboard to spell out “8io:l:;l:oiipP” is silly, yes, and imagining sending that as response to a colleague asking you about a “deliverable” is even funnier.Ìę

But, if you think about it, it also makes the idea of someone on vacation interrupting a dip in one of Iceland’s famous hot springs to check in on a work project seem just as ridiculous. While a horse can’t really write an appropriate email, they also sort of could, because how important could the contents of such an email really be when you’re visiting somewhere totally unique?

Leave it to Iceland to crush tourism marketing with this hilarious way to encourage travelers to log off and be present.

is an assistant editor at șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű, where she writes about travel and adventure news. While she has not been to Iceland, she hopes to go soon—with or without a horse to take care of her inbox.

The post Iceland Has Trained Horses to Respond to Your Work Emails When You’re on Vacation appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Here’s a little-known fact: is the perfect destination for adventurers with a drive to explore sustainably. With three natural UNESCO World Heritage Sites, 16 UNESCO biosphere reserves, 16 national parks, and 104 nature parks, Germany offers an immense array of natural beauty and opportunities to escape the mundane. From the mountains to the sea and the forest in between, we talked to three German outdoor enthusiasts—, , and —to learn about their favorite outdoor spaces and how to travel more sustainably while visiting them.Ìę

Hike in the Mountains

șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű: What makes the Partnachklamm Gorge so special?

Rudolf Achtner, Gorge Warden in Partnachklamm Gorge: You won’t find more beautiful, wild, or varied nature anywhere else in Germany. Located in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, a mountain town in southern Germany, the Partnachklamm Gorge is a must-see wonder. The gorge is especially beautiful during the early morning or in the evening when you can enjoy solitude. If you’re looking to experience the most dazzling light, visit at noon. Between half past eleven and half past one, direct sunlight reaches into the gorge and reflects off its many large and small waterfalls and illuminates the gorge in the most beautiful rainbow colors.

On sunny days, you feel like you’re in a small Grand Canyon. Once it has rained for a few days, you can see the wild, pure nature spring to life. On hot days, the tall cliffs provide shade. In the cold season, the frozen water creates bizarre formations, with large icicles that hang down from the rocks.Ìę

To get epic views of the surrounding mountains, hike through Partnachklamm Gorge to Eckbauer Mountain—a challenging but worthwhile seven-mile trek. The gorge is walkable at any time of the year and is perfect for visitors of all ages. After walking through the gorge, the way back to the trailhead via the Iron Bridge features an inimitable view into the deep gorge.

How can travelers plan a responsible and more sustainable visit to the Partnachklamm Gorge?

RA: Many visitors choose to travel by bike to Partnachklamm Gorge and take advantage of the bike racks we have here. If biking isn’t your style, you could also use public transportation—just take the local bus lines 1 or 2 from Garmisch-Partenkirchen main station to the ski stadium, and from there it’s a nice 25-minute walk to the gorge. For anyone who doesn’t want to walk from the ski stadium, there are horse-drawn carriages that travel back and forth to the entrance of the gorge.Ìę

Before arriving at the gorge, you should pick your route. Decide whether you want to trek beyond the gorge (after the gorge there are many hiking possibilities) or travel back through the gorge to return to the main entrance. The gorge does have operating hours that change seasonally.Ìę

Finally, we are always happy when hikers pack out everything they carry into the park so we can keep it clean and beautiful for all visitors.

Marvel at the Sea

șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű: Where is the best place to experience the sea in Germany?Ìę

Tanja Rosenberger, Seal Rescuer: The Wadden Sea and its inhabitants on the Schleswig-Holstein coast have a special place in my heart. I grew up in Hamburg, but I’ve always been drawn to the landscape and serenity of northern Germany. Since 1997, preserving seal habitat and ensuring a healthy seal population has not only been my job, but my passion. The Seal Sanctuary is a unique institution on the Schleswig-Holstein Wadden Sea coast and was certified as an educational institution for sustainability in fall 2020.

Anyone who visits the Wadden Sea coastline will be in awe of the wind, expanse, cloud formations, and the way the mudflats shimmer in the light. I’ve traveled to many coasts around the world, and I’ve never seen anything quite like what we have here in Germany.

Wander in the Forest

șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű: What’s your favorite forested destination in Germany?

Sandra Wendt, Forest Ranger in Hainich National Park: The Hainich Mountain Range in Thuringia is the largest contiguous deciduous forest area in Germany, and my favorite. The southern part of the range was designated as a national park in 1997 and is the second smallest national park in Germany. Although it’s small in size, Hainich National Park has immense beauty and is a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site. Here, nature is allowed to develop undisturbed—we humans are only silent observers.

The red beech, which characterizes Europe, is the dominant tree species, but there are more than 30 different types of trees in Hainich National Park. The variety of trees that make up the forest here creates a breathtaking blaze of color in the autumn, and due to the shell limestone as a substrate, there are countless spring flowers.

If you visit, the treetop path in the east of the national park offers a bird’s eye view of Hainich. There’s also a must-see exhibition in the adjacent national park center that explains the hidden world of roots and forest soil.

How can travelers plan a responsible and more sustainable visit to Hainich National Park?

SW: Hainich National Park is accessible by public transport. Visitors can travel by train to nearby cities, such as Eisenach, Bad Langensalza, and MĂŒhlhausen. From the cities, there’s a bus system that shuttles hikers to select trailheads in the national park. It’s also possible to explore Hainich National Park by bike using the 15-mile bike path.

The 17 certified national park partners offer information, accommodations, and related catering. They’re characterized by regionality, and are known for their commitment to environmental awareness. They avoid the use of disposable packaging, prioritize using regional products, and align with the philosophy of the national park.

Whether you’re a mountain lover, beckoned to the sea, or a forest fanatic, Germany should be among the top destinations on your adventure bucket list. It’s the perfect time to a sustainable visit to one of the many beautiful outdoor wonders that Germany has to offer.

The (GNTB) is the central organization for marketing Germany as a travel destination. We aim to communicate the beauty, diversity, romance, and vibrancy of the country to people of all ages in Germany and abroad.

The post How to Explore Germany’s Natural Wonders appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.

Ever come across an incredible hotelÌęthat stops you mid-scroll and makes you think, Wow, wouldn’t it be something to stay there?We do, too—all the time. Welcome to Friday Fantasy, where we highlight amazing hotels, lodges, cabins, tents, campsites, and other places perched in perfect outdoor settings. Read on forÌęthe intel you need to book an upcoming adventure here. Or at least dream about it.

Why We Love Manshausen

Bþrge Ousland was the first person to cross Antarctica solo and part of the first duo to reach the North Pole during the darkness of winter. Which means he’s spent a lot of time shivering in a tent, envisioning a cozier place to sleep. In 2010 the legendary explorer turned his dreams into a reality, buying a nearly above the Arctic Circle in the Norwegian Sea’s Grþtþya Strait and setting to work creating , a chic, modern, sustainable adventure oasis.

A haven for anglersÌęsince the 1600s, Manshausen Island had one salvageable building, a farmhouse from the 1800s that Ousland renovated into the main lodge. He then built seven austere glass-sided cubes cantilevered over the water. In June he finished two more “towers”—two-story structures, each withÌęa glass-roofed bedroom that provides jaw-dropping views to the sea, 392-foot Skotstindan mountain to the east, andÌęthe heavens, often lit with the aurora borealis.

Ousland’s ultimate goal is to make Manshausen 100 percent carbon-neutral. It’s tough to charge solar panels in winter when there are only a few hours of daylight, but he plans to supplement the sun’s energy withÌęa windmill that delivers powerÌęback to the grid. His small staff also maintains a garden, fishes for cod and halibut, raises sheep to cut the grass (there areÌęcurrently 11 lambs on island), and barters with locals for what the property can’t produce.

Considering that Manshausen (a name derived from mannshaue, or “man’s head,” after a rock resembling a human head that was quarried there) was the dream of a world-renowned explorer, it’s no surprise that the place offers all manner of rugged day trips (for an extra fee), from expedition-style hiking to sea kayaking, led by experienced staff guides. But Ousland mostly built Manshausen as a place for visitors toÌęenjoy the scenery. “Many people just need to fill up their batteries, relax, and connect with nature,” he says.

șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Intel

You, too, can fish. The lodge provides gear and shares beta on where cod, pollack, and halibut are biting. I would opt for a short ride on one of Manshausen’s private power boats to the mainland to attempt the , a technical climb of 1,998-foot Sþrskottinden peak, followed by a 15-foot rappel to a nearly mile-long traverse of an exposed ridge that ranges in width from 15 to 45 feet. The views to the surrounding mountainous Arctic islands are uninterrupted. I’d also love to paddle a sea kayak with a guide to their secret coves for a swim. And this being Scandinavia, I’d spend quality time in the stoked and ready wood-fired sauna to steam away my aches at the end of each day.

Choice Accommodations

Book one of the two new and identical solar-powered twin towers, named after Norway’s two greatest polar explorers, Fridtjof Nansen and Roald Amundsen. Built on a pier, the towersÌęappear to be floating on water. In each, the primary bedroom on the second floor is covered by a full glass roof, perfect for viewing the midnight sun during the summer and the stars and northern lights in the fall, winter, and spring. Downstairs is a twinÌębed, a full bath, and a sitting room with a floor-to-ceiling glass wall facing the sea. The cozy feeling of hygge here is one of the draws. Or opt for the single-story glass cabins, whose views are also incredible:

Eat and Drink

Hyperlocal cuisine is on full display at the , housed in the main lodge, where a simple yet sophisticated menu includes sea urchins, sandwort, pine shoots, wood sorrel, fish, moose, and elk, most of which is grown, foraged, caught, or harvested on or within close proximity of the island. I’ve been told that the head chef, Ondrej Taldik,Ìęhas more range with a beet than perhaps anyone on the planet, serving them fried, baked, rehydrated, crisped, pickled, and fermented.

When to Go

Ousland prefers spring, when the light returns, the weather is calm, and the fishing for halibut is fantastic. But I might prefer fall, with its cooler days and cold nights. The aurora borealis is best viewed September through March, but the resort is closed November to January.

How to Get There

There are direct flights to Oslo from New York, Miami, and Los Angeles. Once there, you’ll hop a 90-minute flight north to the town of Bodþ, on Norwegian or SAS airlines. Head to the ferry terminal (a 15-minute walk or short taxi ride from the airport) and board ; the passage takes 1 hour 20 minutes and leaves daily at 6 P.M. year-round, and twice daily in the summer months. The lodge will pick you up by shuttle boat at Nordskot if they know when you’re arriving.

Don’t Miss

If you have time to spend in Bodþ before heading toward Manshausen, visit, the most powerful tidal stream in the world. A 33-mile drive north of Nordskot will get you to , one of Europe’s largest coastal fortifications from World War II. It guarded the entrance to Vestfjorden, a 96-mile-long fjord to Narvik, an important route used to ship iron ore from Sweden to Germany. The , 75 miles north of the island in the municipality of Hamarþy, is a museum dedicated to the life and work of the Nobel Prize–winning author.

Details

To Book:

Price:ÌęGlass sea cabins are 5,600 Norwegian kroner ($523 as of press time) per night for two people, including breakfast. The new towers are 8,900 kroner ($830) per night for two people, including breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Address: Mannshausen 3
8283 Leinesfjord, Norway

Stephanie Pearson’s maternal and paternal great-grandparents emigrated from Sweden, but she loves Norway almost as much, especially the cool air, cool people, healthy living, and long coffee breaks. She’s been there twice, most recently to dog-mush above the Arctic Circle from TromsĂž back to JukkasjĂ€rvi, Sweden.Ìę

The post These Are the Most Stunning Coastal Cabins in Norway appeared first on șÚÁÏłÔčÏÍű Online.