The past lingers in certain cities, not just in the cobbled streets but hangs in the atmosphere. It had been twenty-five years since I first stepped off a train in Prague, worn out from a long day of travel (I’d taken the wrong train to Slovenia… but that’s another story), yet thrilled to finally arrive. The city felt like a reward. I was young then, 20 and moving through the world with an openness only possible when you have yet to learn what to guard against.

 

Prague is a dream of a city, hauntingly beautiful with its gothic spires and storybook facades, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. I remember standing on the Charles Bridge at dawn, the statues looming like sentinels in the fog, the river Vltava moving quietly below. I had been alone but not lonely, content in my solitude. In my smoky hostel bar, I sipped on liquid green absinthe, burning sugar in a spoon over a candle flame. The ritual felt ancient, almost alchemical, as if I were conjuring something lost or forgotten. I played guitar to broke backpackers in exchange for a free night stay. I filled my journal with observations and half-formed prayers, and let myself get lost in the maze of streets that spilled out from Old Town. The days belonged to me entirely, an unbroken stretch of possibility.

 

Returning now, a quarter-century later, I find the city familiar, but something has shifted. There is an ache in revisiting a place that once belonged to your younger self, a subtle tension between who you were then and who you are now. My time in Prague was brief yet a reminder that you can return to an old city and see it through a new eyes. 

 

And then there is Berlin.

 

Berlin left an even deeper mark. When I first arrived in 2000, it was still shaking off the dust of its past… raw, unfinished, electric. I took a ten-hour walking tour at an attempt to make sense of the city.  That day, history wrapped itself around me and never quite let go.

 

Over the years, I returned again and again, mostly as a tour leader with student groups. We walked through Berlin past cranes and scaffolding, past monuments to both horror and hope. 

 

Berlin does not offer lightness. It is a city built on the fault lines of history, a city that has been broken and rebuilt. But it is also a place of extraordinary resilience. A city that bears its scars without apology.

 

Even now, the city feels like a study in contrasts. Rebirth and memory live side by side. You can sit at a café window, drinking coffee where the Wall once stood. You can walk past a bodega that sells Turkish kebabs and mobile SIM cards and look up to find a Stolperstein embedded in the pavement: a brass plaque marking where someone was taken from their home and never returned.

 

Today, Berlin is polished in ways it wasn’t before. The edges have softened but the undercurrent remains. As I move through these places, I think of my younger self, the girl who believed in going without knowing, of her willingness to sit in discomfort. Berlin has a strange pull on me. I cannot claim to understand it fully, but I relate to its contrasts. It's darkness. But also its will to begin again. And hope. So much hope. 

And so on my long train travels home, I found myself dreaming of a new journey. A winter rail crossing through the cities that have shaped me and my love for travel: Budapest, Prague, Vienna, Amsterdam. A season of slow travel. A winter's interlude. All by train.

 

For anyone who once dreamed of interrailing through Europe but never had the chance. For those who long for less rush, more depth.

 

Details coming soon.

Shall we go?

 

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

 

 

 

After leading student tours across Europe for over 20 years and raising four teenagers of my own, I’ve learned a few things about what makes travel meaningful and manageable with teens in tow. Spoiler alert: it’s not long museum lines or two hour walking tours that leave them wanting more. 

 

It’s independence, a sense of discovery, and experiences that feel personal. Teenagers are wired to explore, but on their own terms. They want places where they can feel like themselves, not just tag along. That’s why one of my favorite approaches is giving them a day to plan completely their own. You’d be surprised how creative they get. 

 

They’re not looking to check off a list of landmarks rather they’re looking for connection. Let them skip the crowded attractions and instead hunt down their interests. Give them room to explore what lights them up.

 

Traveling with teens is delightfully rewarding when you see the experience through their eyes and you trust them with a little freedom to shape the story.

 

Involving your teens in trip planning not only empowers them but also increases their enthusiasm. Encourage them to research destinations, attractions, or activities they're interested in. This collaborative approach ensures the itinerary includes experiences that resonate with everyone. Often they will find their inspiration from TikTok and YouTube.

 

While Europe's historical sites are captivating, balance is key. Mix cultural visits with interactive experiences like cooking classes, immersive art expereinces, local markets, or outdoor adventures. Instead of a typical walking tour, make choose a themed tour or a food tour which will engage their senses. This variety keeps teens captivated and prevents museum fatigue.

 

Train journeys offer a scenic and relaxed way to traverse Europe. Teens can enjoy the changing landscapes, and families can avoid the hassles of airports. It's also built in downtime to which often teens need. 

 

Opt for accommodations that provide space and flexibility, such as family suites or apartments. Having communal areas allows for downtime, and amenities like kitchenettes can be handy for quick meals or snacks. Sometimes it's fun to shop at local supermarkets in foreign cities and have a night in cooking together. 

 

Let each teen pick a cuisine they’ve never tried before. Maybe it's Bangladeshi in Paris, Lebanese in Rome, Turkish in Berlin. Let them research where to go and what to order. It’s a delicious way to lean into cultural curiosity.

Whether it's a guided app-based experience (like Questo or Actionbound) or something you create yourself, scavenger hunts are a fun, interactive way to explore. Teens learn the city’s history while solving clues, snapping photos, and racing to the next landmark.

 

Equip teens with podcast guides or travel apps to explore attractions at their own pace. This autonomy can make experiences more personal and memorable.

 

Pause in a piazza, at a scenic overlook, or during a train ride and ask your teen, "What song would soundtrack this moment?" Have them share it with you. Over time, you'll build a playlist that captures the emotional arc of your trip, through their ears. Or have one of your teens curate a playlist to listen to on a road trip as a way of learning more about them through their music.

 

Allowing teens some freedom to explore safe areas independently can boost their confidence and make the trip more enjoyable for them. Set clear boundaries and meeting points to ensure safety.

 

Avoid over-scheduling. Incorporate free time into your itinerary for relaxation or spontaneous activities. Teens led full and exhaustive lives. Sometimes your vacation is the only time to rest. It important you consider this when planning. This balance prevents burnout and keeps the trip enjoyable.

 

Travel has a way of softening our defenses. When we're in unfamiliar places, our senses are heightened, and we notice more. Use this openness. At dinner, instead of defaulting to phones or surface-level chat, ask intentional questions. These conversations don’t need to be long or heavy, just real. Often, in the quiet of a meal, with the buzz of a new setting, the most meaningful moments emerge.

When you travel with teens, it’s not about keeping them entertained rather it is all about engaging their curiosity. Travel offers a rare and beautiful pause from daily routines, family roles we play, and offers a chance to see your kids more clearly and connect more deeply. Invite them to explore the world through their own interests and the journey becomes something you share not just something they follow.

 

 

Italy has a way of burrowing itself deep within the corridors of your heart and never loses its capacity to enchant. This Bella Paese (beautiful country) remains heart-stopping, no matter if you are doing it for the first time or the 100th. Linger in timeless cafes over cappuccino e cornetto, sleep in palazzi-turn hotels, and listen to the sound of your heels on ancient cobblestone. The Old World sentiment is deeply rooted in tradition, established over time, and evocative of a bygone era. It carries a sense of heritage, craftsmanship, and a refined aesthetic that sets the country apart. This tour encapsulates everything that is most seductive about Italy. Experience Old World Italia through new eyes.

 

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. 

 

 

 

This Victorian inn is on the Duke of Somerset’s estate, not far from Longleat Forest. After being revamped by a former design director for Soho House, it has made a name for itself and attracts discerning guests on their way up to Bath, or down to the coast. 

 

Maiden Bradley sits near ancient woods in part of Wiltshire’s Cranborne Chase AONB, about 40-minutes’ drive south of Bath. The chalk ridge of Long Knoll rises nearby, and the local dells are carpeted with bluebells in spring. The gardens at Stourhead are just down the road, while Longleat Safari Park is ten minutes’ drive away. It's an ideal location to be based when wanting to make day trips to places like Stonehenge, Bath, Highclere Castle, Southern Cotswolds and more.

In the Coach House, the predominantly cream-colored walls and fabrics have a soft, cosseting effect which contrasts with the dark French antique furniture. Decoration is simple, with jute rugs, dried foliage and framed modern art. All of these rooms, and two Medium rooms, also have freestanding baths. 

In the main house, guests in the front rooms may hear some traffic noise. However, these rooms have a little more colour, and the best Large room includes a vintage full-length mirror and candlestick holders. Eye masks are provided, and all rooms have smart televisions, minibars and tea and coffee facilities. The bathrooms also feature polished antique brass fittings, and walk-in showers with high-gloss tiles.

 

The candlelit nooks on the restaurant side of the bar provide a relaxing space for diners, and the kitchen aims to create zero waste. On my first visit, the local mushrooms and Wiltshire truffles had been recently foraged, with the latter adding an earthiness to a plate of silky pappardelle, girolles and Berkswell cheese. The drinks list intrigues with its local keeved cider, alongside excellent cocktails. 

The continental breakfast along with hot dishes features plenty of fresh berries and thick yogurt, plus pastries, cheese, ham, muesli and toast.

 

Double rooms from £175 in low season; and from £295 in high. Breakfast included. Free Wi-Fi.

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 is a recent read I highly recommend as it has served me in a season of change and new trajectories:

 

A profound meditation on boundaries, transformation, and the landscapes of the soul. In Weathering, geologist-turned-psychotherapist Ruth Allen draws from the language of the earth to explore how we evolve;  not despite our limitations, but because of them. She shows how edges, boundaries, and ruptures are not obstacles to growth but vital catalysts for change. Much like minerals that only crystallize within constraints, we too form our deepest selves within the container of limits.

 

Allen writes with poetic clarity about the magnetic pull we feel toward life’s thresholds: shorelines, cliffs, emotional breaking points and how these liminal spaces, though often uncomfortable, hold the richest potential for healing and transformation. Whether in therapy, relationships, or solitude, the process of becoming more fully ourselves happens at the edge of the known and the unknown. 

 

To honor our limits is not to shrink our lives, but to deepen them. And in doing so, we create the conditions for resilience, self-trust, and a more meaningful connection with the world around us. Weathering is both a call to inhabit our inner terrain with curiosity and a map for navigating life’s inevitable fault lines.