New York reveals itself in layers, in moments caught between the noise: the hush before the light changes, the rhythm of footsteps on sidewalks, the screech of metal on metal of subway cars, the sudden bloom of steam rising from a manhole into the cold air. It is a city that moves with certainty, with a kind of restless poetry, carrying its inhabitants forward whether they are ready or not.

 

This last week, I have been wrapped in its momentum, swallowed by its avenues, drifting between conversations in rooms high above the streets, where the talk was of business and strategy, of marketing and message, of how to make the ephemeral feel tangible. I stood at podiums, sat at round tables, and lingered over drinks late into the night hours sharing ideas with people from around the world who, like me, believe in the power of travel. Not just in where we go, but in how a place makes us feel … and why that matters now more than ever.

 

Geographer Yi-Fu Tuan wrote that place is not just a point on a map but an accumulation of experience, memory, and meaning. This city is more than its streets and skyline; it is a living record of what has been felt within it. How I feel the weight of that truth on this trip.

 

New York holds a part of me, just as it holds so many others. It is where I first learned the art of moving quickly and decisively. It is also where, on a harrowing September morning, I walked through ash-covered streets, feeling the shocking, sharp grief of a city brought to its knees… and the determined resilience that followed.

 

Even now, decades later, there are corners of this city that stir something raw and unspoken, where memory and place collapse into each other. I felt this deeply on my first morning exploring lower Manhattan. Resurrected scenes rip at the seam of heartbreak and sorrow. Nostalgia and grief are woven into its architecture, tucked into its subways and street corners, its bridges and bodegas. But so too is endurance. Reinvention. Though I confess the city feels weary and worn, I sense the city’s unshakable will to go on.

 

This reflection colors my thoughts on my final morning. I make myself tea and gather my belonging. I stop what I am doing and turn my gaze across the Hudson as I watch Manhattan from a distance, its skyline catching the early light. The sun climbs higher, gilding the glass and steel, reflecting off the river that hems the island in. From my hotel room, I glance at the people below move with purpose, already deep into their morning routines. The Mk.gee song “I Want” plays as the soundtrack to these scenes. I turn back to luggage, half packed and sprawling on my bed. It is time to go.

 

I will hold this scene in my mind as if willing myself to remember these cherished moments. I needed to plant my feet back on American soil. Soon, I will cross the Atlantic, trading the towering verticals of Manhattan for the vast, open sprawl of the English countryside. 

 

New York has a way of pulling something from you, asking more than you think you have to give, but offering something intangible in return: a sharpened sense of self, a clearer understanding of what matters.

 

And now, at JFK, in the quiet limbo between departure and arrival, I take a last look across the tarmac at the barely visible city rising against the horizon before turning toward my gate. I will return, as I always do. But for now, the road leads elsewhere. 

 

Before me, Berlin.

 

Here you'll find my round-up of recent European travel-related news, tips, and resources so you can be in the know:

 

 

There is a solitude to winter travel, a sort of silent reverence that summer cannot know. Traveling to Europe in winter has some incredible benefits that make it one of the best times to visit. 

 

Here are 7 reasons why:

 

Winter travel lets you experience famous landmarks like the Eiffel Tower, Colosseum, or the Louvre without the overwhelming crowds. It’s easier to connect with locals and immerse yourself in the true rhythm of European life.

 

With the exception of Christmas and New Year’s, winter is the off-season, meaning you can score fantastic deals on flights and accommodations. Luxury hotels and boutique stays often offer lower rates letting you indulge without breaking the bank.

 

Picture snow-dusted castles, twinkling lights in medieval villages, and charming cafés with crackling fireplaces. Destinations like Switzerland, Slovenia, and the Scottish Highlands are particularly magical in winter, offering breathtaking scenery and a cozy, storybook feel.

 

Europe’s Christmas markets are legendary! From Germany to France, Austria, and beyond, you’ll find festive stalls selling handmade gifts, mulled wine, and traditional holiday treats. Even after Christmas, winter festivals and light displays keep the magic alive.

 

Winter is ideal for museum-hopping, historic libraries, and literary-inspired travels. Imagine reading in a warm café in Paris, exploring old world libraries of Prague and Budapest, or a show at Vienna’s opera houses—without the summer heat or peak-season chaos.

 

If you’re not a fan of scorching summer temperatures, winter travel is a dream in cities like Rome and Madrid that are often overwhelming in July. Embrace the Nordic way of life with sauna experiences in Finland and Sweden.

 

Whether it's skiing in the Swiss Alps, dog-sledding in Norway, chasing the Northern Lights in Iceland or soaking in Budapest’s thermal baths under the steam of winter air, Europe in winter offers activities you won’t find any other time of year.

 

 

Here are six European cities that shine in the winter months, each offering a unique seasonal charm:

 

 

 

Greece isn’t just a destination… it’s a feeling. A crossroads of East and West, where history lingers in the air and the rhythm of life moves at its own, unhurried pace. This 9-day journey is about more than just seeing Athens and the Cyclades; it’s about experiencing them.

 

We’ll stand in the shadow of the Acropolis, but we’ll also slip into my favorite hidden corners of Athens, where the city’s true heart beats. It's gritty and gracious all at once. We’ll delight in the Greek hospitality and the stories that saturate every stone of this remarkable ancient city. Then, we’ll slow down on the island of Paros, where whitewashed villages and the endless blue of the Aegean invite us to breathe a little deeper and simply be. You won't want to leave.

 

With curated experiences: from a catamaran adventure to a food tour that goes beyond the usual bites, this trip is designed to immerse you in the essence of Greece as I see it. Trust me, it will get under your skin in the best possible way.

 

What is included:

The experience is personal and authentic, with time to immerse yourself in local culture, freedom to roam and time set aside for your own exploration. 

 

 

The New York outpost of the rapidly expanding Hoxton brand finds itself in the ever-trendy north side of Williamsburg, amid a landscape of converted warehouses and factories in post-industrial Brooklyn, set in a former water-tower factory with a broad statement staircase sashaying down the middle. Walking through the front doors leads you straight into the restaurant and bar, where guests and locals tap away on laptops or meet for drinks. 

 

To me, this a comforting connection to my life in the UK as The Hoxton, Williamsburg feels very London. Not only has the label transported very smoothly across the Atlantic, it’s also full of Brits, as well as many creative locals. Stay here to feel like you’re among the a creative tribe, with reasonable prices and phenomenal views.

 

Few neighborhoods have seen such rapid gentrification over the last decade as the creative stronghold of Williamsburg, with formerly industrial warehouse spaces now occupied by fashionable coffee shops, cocktail bars, nightclubs and high-end clothing stores. With myriad excellent restaurants including Reynard, Fette Sau and St Anselm all within a 15-minute stroll, there’s no real reason to even cross the river to Manhattan. If you must, though, the L train subway is a five-minute walk, and the East River Ferry dock eight minutes away. 35 minutes to JFK.

The 175 rooms are divided into two categories: ‘Cosy’, and the ‘Roomy’. Both are compact, but make clever use of space – with neat fold-down desks, large drawers under the king-sized bed to stash luggage and shoes, and a hanging rail in place of a wardrobe – and of the plum location, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering views across the river to Manhattan, or over Brooklyn. Bathrooms are minimal and stylish, with white subway tiles, brass fittings and toiletries. The Hoxton brand has a strict ‘no rip-offs’ policy, and to that end, rooms feature kettles, tea and coffee and a small fridge to stock yourself, while a light breakfast of juice, banana and a ‘breakfast pot’ is delivered in a paper bag in the morning. There’s no overpriced minibar but snacks and drinks are available to buy 24/7 at reception, and at the coffee bar in the lobby.

 

There is the brand-new restaurant K’Far, where renowned Philadelphia chef Michael Solomonov serves all-day Israeli inspired menus alongside a full bar and a bakery/cafe with takeaway goods. And then, there’s the recently opened rooftop bar Laser Wolf, where guests can enjoy elevated Israeli cuisine cooked over live coals, innovative cocktails, and stunning skyline views.

 

Double rooms from $225 in low season; and from $349 in high. Free Wi-Fi. Six pairs of rooms can be connected, and cots are available on request.

I am often asked where am I traveling to next. So I thought I'll share my upcoming schedule - you can follow my journeys via Instagram stories @suddenjourneys or click on the link at the bottom of this newsletter. 

 

 

Here are a few of my recent reads that I highly recommend:

 

Poet Aria Aber’s debut novel, Good Girl, is a dark, breathtaking coming-of-age story following Nila, the rebellious daughter of Afghan doctors, who fled their home before she was born and settled in a brutalist social housing block in Berlin. After 9/11, the family learned to lie (“To resent ourselves with precision”), to hide parts of themselves.  Then her mother died, and Nila began looking for a way out, navigating grief, self-loathing, and desire in the night scenes of Berlin. Torn between her Persian heritage and the Western world, Nila is drawn to art, desire, and a troubled relationship with an American author who offers escape but mirrors her own damage. Aber writes unflinchingly about the shame of dual cultures, the weight of parental love, and the brutal complexities of Afghan identity, power, and poverty. At its heart, Good Girl is the story of a young woman who needs her mother; it is a raw and essential novel—both defiant and deeply human.

 

I re-discovered this book in a used bookshop in East Village during my recent visit to New York. The book is set in Brooklyn in 1947, and is a heartwarming novel following 11-year-old Irish-Catholic Michael Devlin, who forms an unlikely friendship with Rabbi Judah Hirsch after helping him on a snowy morning. As Michael teaches the Rabbi English and baseball, and the Rabbi shares stories of Prague and its tragedies, their bond deepens against a backdrop of post-war hope, Jackie Robinson’s historic season, and the dark undercurrent of anti-Semitic violence. A beautifully written tale of friendship, history, and courage, it’s a book worth holding onto.

 

I read this book in preparation of leading my student tour this past January. A beautifully woven meditation on how we see and relate to the natural world, blending Indigenous wisdom with ecology. Expanding on a magazine essay, this short but profound book challenges us to rethink even the simplest things—like a berry—as part of an interconnected web of relationships. Kimmerer, a botanist and member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, offers an alternative to the scarcity mindset, envisioning a world where generosity and reciprocity guide our interactions. The Serviceberry serves as an invitation to deepen our connection to the land and each other.. one small act at a time.