Americans love France. They just love a very small version of it. Paris. Nice. Maybe Provence if they watched a movie about it. Occasionally Bordeaux if they drink wine seriously. That is roughly the entire American mental map of France, a country with dozens of cities that most American visitors and potential retirees have never …
American travelers love a good hack. Whether it’s rolling clothes to save suitcase space or booking flights on Tuesdays at midnight, the internet is packed with travel advice that promises to save money, time, or both. But when these tips cross the Atlantic, many fall flat or worse, draw quiet chuckles from seasoned European locals …
Every year a steady stream of American couples does the same quiet arithmetic. They look at two Social Security checks, look at what those checks buy in the United States, look at what they might buy on a warm stretch of the Spanish coast, and decide to find out. The Costa Blanca, the long ribbon …
You can tell when an American is serious about leaving because the sentence starts with a number. “I’ve got $500,000.”“I’ll have $2,400/month.”“My Social Security is $3,100 and my spouse is $1,700.” From Spain, that sounds less like bragging and more like a person trying to buy certainty. Here’s the part nobody says out loud: Social …
An American rents an apartment in Madrid or Rome or Berlin, throws open the window on the first warm evening, and stops short. There is nothing there. No screen, no mesh, no barrier of any kind between the room and the open air, just a window that swings wide onto the street. For a person …
Two people need to get from Paris to Lyon on the same morning. The tourist books a flight, because a flight is what you book when two cities feel far apart and an hour in the air sounds faster than anything on the ground. The local books the train without a second thought. On this …
You have walked all morning through the Roman heat, and the Spanish Steps rise in front of you, a hundred and thirty-odd travertine steps sweeping up toward a church, sun-warmed and inviting. So you do the natural thing and sit down to rest. Within moments a police officer with a whistle is heading your way, …
On a side street off a Roman piazza, a curved iron spout pours a steady arc of cold water into a drain, and has been doing so, day and night, for longer than anyone walking past has been alive. It never shuts off. The water is clean, it is free, and it is the same …
You board in one city as the light goes, have a drink in the lounge car while the suburbs slide past, and climb into a bunk. You wake the next morning pulling into a different country, wash your face, and step off the train into the center of a new city with the whole day …
A waiter at a busy aperitivo bar in central Milan watches an American couple sit down at one of his tables at 6:45pm. They look at the cocktail menu briefly. The husband orders a Long Island Iced Tea. The wife orders a frozen strawberry margarita. The waiter takes the order professionally, walks to the bar, …
A month gallivanting across Europe conjures dreamy images of sunlit plazas, rolling vineyards, and ancient alleyways. The catch? Trying to haul a suitcase bigger than your Airbnb through cobblestone streets and five-story walk-ups can feel like an endurance test. Enter the carry-on: your lightweight, fuss-free companion that makes city-hopping a breeze. With a bit of …
An American turns sixty-five, or moves to Europe already past it, and runs headlong into a decision that Medicare presents badly and almost nobody prepares them for. Should they keep paying for Medicare Part B, at more than two hundred dollars a month, for coverage that will not work where they now live? Or should …