The surprising lessons you learn when you leave your comfort zone and embrace the unknown.

Imagine it’s 1999, and I’m standing in a Kyiv trolleybus in the middle of winter, packed tighter than a can of sardines, holding onto a pole for dear life while trying to decipher Cyrillic letters that might as well have been hieroglyphics.

My destination?

My girlfriend’s apartment across town.

My reality?

A 90-minute accidental detour to nowhere because I boarded the wrong trolley. Twice.

When I arrived, her father snickered,

“He can’t even take a trolleybus ride. He won’t last 6 months here”.

He was right. I didn’t last 6 months, but 20 years….

Though, it wasn’t without its share of mishaps and adventures, that I’ve only recently been looking back on, trying to put them into words.

I’d originally moved abroad for love, to chase adventure and, if I’m honest, to escape the monotony of a one terrible job after another and an uninspired life.

What I didn’t expect was how quickly the adventure would turn into a crash course in humility.

Between negotiating taxi fares with grinning drivers who saw “foreigner” written all over me and surviving my first encounter with fish encased in gelatin, I started to see the beauty in the chaos.

Travel didn’t just push me outside my comfort zone, it tore the whole thing down and built something entirely new in its place.

And along the way, I found something I didn’t even know I was looking for, purpose.

Turns out, getting lost isn’t the worst thing that can happen, it’s often where the real journey begins.

1. My Comfort Zone Was a Lie, and Ukraine Made Sure I Knew It

Moving abroad is like jumping into cold water, you think you’re ready until you’re gasping for air.

When I landed in Ukraine, I figured a quick crash course in Cyrillic and a go-with-the-flow attitude would do the trick.

Here’s the thing, it didn’t.

Take my first trip to Kyiv’s outdoor bazaars. I was after bread and butter, but a mix of broken Russian and panicked pointing landed me with horseradish and oil with a bag of Onions for good measure.

Not exactly breakfast material.

As I stared at my accidental haul, I realized two things:

I was way out of my depth, and I’d better get comfortable with being uncomfortable.

Ukraine didn’t just nudge me out of my comfort zone, it bulldozed the thing.

Every misstep, from misreading street signs to fumbling through conversations, became a tiny victory when I finally got it right.

By the time I discovered a hidden café with dumplings (vareniki) that felt like a warm hug, the thrill of figuring it all out had become my new comfort zone.

But getting through the awkwardness was just the first step.

What came next changed everything I thought I knew.

2. Your Worldview Is a Distorted Selfie, and Travel Fixes the Lens

The truth is, living abroad doesn’t just expose you to other cultures, it forces you to confront your own.

And sometimes, it’s not pretty.

Like the first time I encountered International Women’s Day in Ukraine. I thought a casual “Happy Women’s Day!” to my girlfriend would be enough.

Wrong.

Boy was I wrong!

In Ukraine, this day is practically sacred. Men everywhere armed themselves with flowers (always an odd number, never an even one, rookie mistake) and chocolates.

Her disappointed look when I came empty-handed taught me more about cultural priorities than a dozen travel guides ever could.

Then there was the dinner party debacle when I asked a friend’s boyfriend, “What do you do?”

Simple, right?

Not in Ukraine in 1999.

He muttered “business” with a look that clearly said, “None of yours.”

Lesson learned: small talk isn’t universal, and sometimes silence is golden.

Living abroad turned my American habits, small talk, individualism, and the hustle, on their heads.

Other cultures prioritized community, honesty, and slowing down.

It wasn’t just enlightening, it was humbling.

But if you think cultural missteps were my biggest challenges, wait until you hear about the lessons served with homemade jam and Soviet-era polyclinic massages.

3. When a Jar of Jam and Black Bread Taught Me Life’s Real Priorities

Nothing puts life into perspective like standing in a Ukrainian dacha with a spoonful of homemade strawberry jam and a thick slice of black bread.

Forget Starbucks and brunch, this was the good stuff.

Weekends at the dacha weren’t just about fresh air and berry-picking, they were about community.

Neighbors popped by with pickled vegetables, and everyone helped each other without keeping score.

It made me realize how transactional life in the U.S. had become in comparison, borrowing a cup of sugar back home practically required a notarized contract.

Even back in Kyiv, moments like buying a flower from a babushka on the street or sharing a laugh with a cab driver reminded me that life doesn’t need to be complicated to be meaningful.

Of course, appreciating simplicity didn’t come naturally.

It took plenty of trial and error (and a few strategic bribes).

But as I soon learned, simplicity is a luxury you truly appreciate when you’re facing life’s bigger challenges.

4. How a Soviet-Era Masseuse Changed My Life By Giving Me a Lesson I’ll Never Forget

If you’ve never been barked at by a masseuse who looks like she could lift a car, you’re missing out.

During a long, frigid Kyiv winter, I managed to throw out my back while working out.

A colleague sent me to Zhenya, a Soviet-era legend with iron hands, at the local polyclinic.

“Undress!” she commanded, pointing at a wobbly massage table.

What followed was equal parts comedy and miracle cure.

Her jackhammer hands worked out every knot while I winced, gasped, and occasionally prayed for mercy.

By the end, I was practically floating.

That experience wasn’t unique.

Whether it was missing a train in Frankfurt and relying on café workers from Moldova for help or accidentally offending an entire dinner party, these moments forced me to adapt, think fast, and most importantly, laugh at myself.

Growth doesn’t come from safety, it comes from leaning into discomfort.

Zhenya’s iron grip reshaped my back, but it was the challenges of living abroad that reshaped me.

Here’s the thing: resilience is just the beginning.

Travel doesn’t just teach you to survive, it teaches you to thrive in ways you never imagined.

And the best part?

The lessons don’t stop once you’ve unpacked your suitcase.

5. Why Getting Lost Might Be the Best Way to Find Yourself

If there’s one thing travel teaches you, it’s that the map you think you’re following often leads somewhere far more meaningful than you planned.

For me, that moment came during a seemingly ordinary afternoon in Kyiv.

I’d been wandering through a park, letting the day unfold without an agenda.

As I passed a group of street performers, something stopped me, a kid was trying to mimic their tricks, failing spectacularly but laughing every time.

It hit me then: the beauty wasn’t in their polished routine, it was in the kid’s fearless attempts to be part of it.

I thought about how much my own life had been shaped by similar moments of trial, error, and letting go of the need to “get it right.”

That day, I didn’t pull out a notebook, I started taking mental notes, the kind you can’t ignore even if you try.

Dacha weekends, Russian slip-ups, and Zhenya’s back-correcting “therapy” all became part of the reel playing in my head.

Little did I know, those moments would eventually shape not just this article, but many others, as I realized my missteps might just be the nudge someone else needs to take their first step toward adventure.

Some of those notes would eventually become this article, and many others, as I realized that sharing my missteps might help others take their first steps toward adventure.

Travel isn’t just about ticking destinations off a bucket list, it’s a constant invitation to learn, adapt, and give back.

Whether it’s mentoring someone planning their first solo trip or simply buying a flower from a street vendor to brighten their day, every moment carries purpose if you let it.

But don’t just take my word for it.

Pack a bag, step outside your comfort zone, and see where the road takes you.

Just remember: getting lost is half the fun.

Your Next Adventure Is Closer Than You Think

Every misstep: from learning a new language to bazaar blunders and dacha jam sessions, shaped a more resilient, adaptable me.

Leaving your comfort zone isn’t about big leaps, it’s about small, bold steps.

Travel starts with a ticket but reshapes your life long after you’re home.

Stop waiting for the “perfect” moment.

Take the trip, embrace the unknown, and trust the detours to lead you somewhere unforgettable.

Are you ready to find your purpose beyond your doorstep?

The post 5 Ways Expat Life Transformed My Worldview, Gave Me Purpose And Rebuilt My Life Abroad! appeared first on Expats Planet.

Skip the overrated, tourist traps and dive into Europe’s best-kept secrets. These festivals will change your travel game, and have Influencers begging for your itinerary!

Think Europe’s festivals are all beer mugs at Oktoberfest or masked balls at Venice Carnival?

Think again!

Beyond the crowds and overpriced souvenirs lie hidden celebrations brimming with local charm and centuries-old traditions.

Ready to swap the selfie sticks for folklore dances and secret feasts? 

Here’s your ticket to 10 festivals that will have you experiencing Europe like never before.

Secret Festivals That’ll Make You Forget The Mass Tourism Backlash!

Picture this: Venice Carnival, dodging selfie sticks like Neo in “The Matrix”, only to pay way too much for burnt-regret espresso.

Now imagine a tiny village square, where friendly locals actually seem happy you showed up.

That’s the magic of undiscovered festivals, authentic, intimate, and tourist-free.

Mainstream destinations?

Like Instagram influencers: polished, predictable, nothing new and a bit of boring added in….

Hidden gems? They’re the weird friend with great stories.

These small festivals let you escape the masses and immerse yourself in real traditions.

You’re not a tourist, you’re a guest.

Here’s the secret: most of these places couldn’t dream of an over-tourism problem. 

Take the Ohrid Summer Festival in North Macedonia, I discovered it by chance when a supermarket cashier casually said, “You should see the lake.”

Instead of battling Santorini’s summer crowds, I spent the day listening to ethereal music in St. Sophia’s Cathedral, sipping wine as good as Burgundy’s finest, and marveling at how this breathtaking lakeside town remains such a well-kept secret.

The beauty of these festivals is their unpredictability. They’re not splashed across Google’s front page or wrapped in corporate sponsorship.

Locals whisper about them like secret treasure maps, and when you stumble upon one? It feels like the world saved something just for you.

Still not convinced?

Keep reading, the festivals ahead will have you rethinking your entire bucket list.

And yes, they’re absolutely worth skipping Venice for.

10 Festivals That’ll Make You Cancel Your Usual Package Holiday (You’ve Been Warned)

If you’ve ever wished for a travel experience that doesn’t involve shoving through crowds or standing in endless lines, this list is about to be your best friend.

These festivals?

They’re like secret passwords to unlock the heart of a culture, and they’re waiting for you in the most unexpected corners of Europe.

Let me be your guide to 10 festivals that’ll make you swear off tourist traps forever.

1. Martisor Festival (Romania): Spring’s Personal Cheerleader

I haven’t been to the Martisor Festival yet, but after a train ride to Timișoara last summer, where some newly made Romanian friends wouldn’t stop raving about it, it’s on my bucket list.

Every March 1st, Bucharest and Cluj-Napoca burst into color with martsisors, tiny tokens of hope exchanged to welcome spring.

Apparently, it’s not just the trinkets, but the heartfelt meaning behind them that makes the festival special.

One friend told me about an old woman who handed her a martsisor, smiling as she said, “Now spring will come for you.”

How could I not want to experience that kind of magic firsthand for myself?

2. Battle of the Oranges (Ivrea, Italy): The Food Fight You Actually Want to Join

Imagine a town-wide dodgeball game, but with oranges!

Welcome to Ivrea, where locals reenact a medieval rebellion by pelting each other with citrus fruit.

It’s chaotic, it’s messy, and it’s an absolutely great time!

Trip tip: If you value your dignity (and face), wear a red cap to signify you’re just a spectator.

Trust me, catching an orange to the forehead isn’t as romantic as it sounds.

3. Saint Tryphon Day (Montenegro): Where the Wine Flows and the Saints Approve

In Kotor, February 14th isn’t about chocolates and roses, it’s about honoring Saint Tryphon, the patron saint of vineyards.

Think wine blessings, lively parades, and locals filling the medieval streets with music and laughter.

What you should do? Sample the local wine, obviously.

But also explore the Old Town.

It’s like stepping into a time machine, except you’re allowed to drink while doing it.

4. Trufare Truffle Festival (Croatia): A Culinary Treasure Hunt

Truffles are the diamonds of the food world, and Croatia’s Istria region is where you’ll find them celebrated in all their earthy glory.

From guided truffle hunts to cooking workshops, it’s a foodie’s dream come true.

A Don’t Miss: Joining a local truffle hunt.

It’s like playing detective, except the prize is edible, delicious, and pairs beautifully with a glass of Istrian wine, if I do say so myself.

5. Kumquat Festival (Corfu, Greece): Small Fruit, Big Party

Corfu takes its Venetian heritage seriously, even when it comes to kumquats.

Late spring brings street performances, kumquat liqueur tastings, and enough citrus-themed treats to make your taste buds dance.

My advice? Venture into the smaller villages.

You’ll skip the crowds and find the kind of homemade kumquat goodies that’ll haunt your dreams, in the best way.

6. Tulip Time Festival (Haarlem, Netherlands): A Floral Fantasy

Skip Amsterdam’s crowded canals and head to Haarlem, where tulips reign supreme without the chaos.

April through May, flower parades and canal tours take center stage, celebrating the Netherlands’ most iconic bloom.

Insider Tip: Rent a bike and explore the surrounding tulip fields.

Nothing screams “main character energy” like pedaling through a sea of color.

7. Bataille des Vins (Saint-Émilion, France): When History and Wine Collide

Early summer in Saint-Émilion means one thing,

Wine battles!

Okay, not literal battles, but medieval re-enactments, wine tastings, and vineyard tours so picturesque you’ll feel like you’re starring in a French film.

Travel Pro Move: Participate in the re-enactments if you can.

Dressing up and drinking wine?

Name a better combo, I’ll wait….

8. Perchtenlauf (Austria): Scary, but Make It Festive

December in Austria brings Perchtenlauf, a pagan-inspired winter tradition featuring torchlit parades and fearsome Krampus figures.

Think Halloween meets a snow-dusted fairy tale.

What To Do: Bundle up and bring a camera.

The costumes are stunning, and you’ll want to prove to your friends that you didn’t just dream the whole thing.

9. Theth Spring Festival (Albania): Alpine Magic in Bloom

Hidden in the Albanian Alps, Theth’s spring festival is like stepping into a Tolkien novel.

Folklore dances, traditional feasts, and nature’s full glory make this undiscovered local fest unforgettable.

Local Albanian Tip: Stay in a traditional guesthouse.

The hospitality is unmatched, and the mountain views?

Breathtaking!

10. Sibiu International Theatre Festival (Romania): The Stage Is Set!

June in Sibiu is a love letter to the performing arts.

This medieval town hosts world-class theater, street shows, and cultural performances that’ll have you laughing, crying, and everything in between.

How to make the most of it: Plan ahead by checking the schedule and explore the town between shows.

Transylvanian cuisine is the perfect intermission.

Your Travel Game Just Leveled Up!  What’s Your Next Move?

These festivals are just the appetizer.

If you think discovering a truffle festival in Croatia or dodging oranges in Italy is impressive, imagine unearthing your own hidden gem that even Google doesn’t know about.

Europe is just brimming with secret celebrations that are just waiting for someone like you to show up, wide-eyed and ready to party.

So, which festival will you conquer on your next trip?

Or better yet… what will you discover that no one else has?

The Secret Sauce of Travel: It’s Not About the Map, It’s About the Moment

Here’s the thing about festivals: they’re not just events, they’re stories.

The kind of stories that stick with you long after your suitcase is unpacked.

Whether it’s sipping blessed wine in Montenegro, watching tulips dance in the Dutch breeze, or hilariously dodging Krampus in Austria, these festivals strip away the tourist veneer and connect you to the beating heart of a place.

And here’s the thing, finding them isn’t about luck, it’s about curiosity.

Ask locals.

Wander off the main road.

Zoom in on those untagged spots on Google Maps.

You’ll be amazed at what unfolds when you let serendipity take the lead.

Your Turn: What’s Your Hidden Gem?

Now it’s your move, fellow traveler. I’ve let the cat out of the bag on my bucket list of festivals, but I want to hear about yours.

Found a quirky celebration tucked away in some tiny corner of the world?

Or maybe there’s a festival you’ve been eyeing for 2025?

Because here’s the truth: the best trips are the ones we never stop talking about.

The post 10 Undiscovered European Festivals That Deserve A Spot On Your Bucket List! appeared first on Expats Planet.

Tired of the same tourist traps that have been decimated by over-tourism? These off the beaten path destinations, based on personal adventures and insider tips, will redefine your idea of European travel.

Imagine strolling through cobblestone streets where locals greet you with warm smiles, the aroma of fresh pastries wafts through the air, and there’s not a tourist in sight.

This was my experience in Beaune, France, a town that stole my heart and showed me Europe beyond the crowds.

1. Why This Bulgarian Town Might Be Europe’s Best-Kept Secret

Vidin, Bulgaria is so off-the-grid your GPS might just throw in the towel.

At its heart stands Baba Vida Fortress, a medieval relic on the Danube, looking like it’s been waiting centuries for someone to say, “Wow, you’re impressive.”

P.S. It is!

Inside, it felt like I’d wandered onto the set of a medieval drama, stone corridors, eerie silence, and just enough mystery to keep things interesting.

No ghosts, but the Danube views?

Absolutely stealing the show, glittering like it’s auditioning for a postcard.

Then there are the riverside cafés, where time slows, coffee tastes absurdly good, and there’s not a single selfie stick in sight.

Insider’s tip: Spring is when Vidin turns magical, with the fortress framed by wildflowers straight out of a storybook.

2. Why This Greek Lakeside Town Could Be Better Than the Islands

Ioannina, Greece — quiet, charming, and so crowd-free it feels like you’ve stumbled into a secret, even in summer.

With Ottoman-era architecture and a lakeside vibe so slow, you’ll check your watch to make sure it’s still working.

A quick boat ride to Nissi island brought me to monasteries hidden in the trees, some with lake views, others with enough medieval charm to feel one dragon short of a J. R. R. Tolkien’s epic!

Visit in the fall! Cool air, no tourists, and baklava so good you’ll start Googling “how to move to Ioannina.”

3. This Hungarian Town’s Baroque Vibes Will Win You Over

Győr, Hungary — where baroque elegance meets modern cool without breaking a sweat. The Basilica alone? 

Worth the trip! 

Standing under its painted ceilings, I actually considered being serious for a moment (it passed, don’t worry).

The real magic happens in the old town squares, cobblestone streets, lively cafés, and an art scene that sneaks up on you.

One minute you’re marveling at centuries-old architecture, the next you’re sipping Hungarian wine at a festival wondering how life got this good.

The best part?

Győr isn’t trying too hard. 

Visit during an art festival, and you’ll leave wondering why this town isn’t a bigger deal.

4. Why This Romanian Town Will Be Your New Obsession

Timișoara, Romania — “Little Vienna” with its own unique flair.

I lucked out stumbling into town during the Flower Festival, and it was like walking into a joyful explosion of color, music, and that rare kind of chaos that makes you forget about all your to-do lists.

Union Square stole the show though! 

It’s pastel-colored buildings, the ultimate people-watching scene, and pastries so good they should come with a health warning.

Spring is the sweet spot, blooming flowers, buzzing energy, and a vibe you can’t help but soak in.

5. Why This German Town Will Change How You See Rivers Forever

Passau, Germany — where the Danube, Inn, and Ilz Rivers collide in a way that feels more like a coordinated dance than chaos.

Standing at the confluence, I couldn’t help but think, “How did I not know about this place?”

It’s all shimmering water and postcard-perfect views.

The highlight? A sunset riverboat tour.

The light hit the pastel buildings just right, and for a moment, I thought I’d stepped into a painting (or at least a really well-filtered Instagram post).

Insider’s tip: May is ideal, perfect weather and the occasional riverside street market where you can grab a bratwurst and soak in the vibes where the rivers meet.

Small town, big charm and highly underrated!

6. This French Town Will Make You Wish for an Extra Stomach

Beaune, France, is the kind of place that makes you wonder why you don’t live surrounded by vineyards and medieval charm.

The town’s centerpiece, the Hospices de Beaune, looks like someone gave a medieval hospital a designer makeover, complete with Instagram-worthy tiled roofs.

It all reminded me of Dijon.

I spent my day wandering cobblestone streets, the scent of fresh bread and Burgundy wine filling the air.

By evening, I found myself in a dimly lit wine cellar, sipping Pinot Noir so velvety smooth it felt like drinking liquid silk.

And yes, I immediately Googled “how to move to Beaune” too!

If you’re planning a trip, November’s wine auction is the jackpot.

Tasting the region’s finest wine while locals debate grape quality like it’s a sport? Unmissable!

7. Why This Italian Lake Will Ruin Lake Como for You

Lake Iseo, Italy — Lake Como’s quieter, less showy cousin. You won’t find George Clooney here, sorry ladies, but that’s exactly the point.

Instead, you get stunning views, authentic Italian cuisine, and a calm that feels like a reset button for your soul.

I hiked up Monte Isola, the lake’s centerpiece, where the views made me forget about my sore legs (briefly). And the food? 

Let’s just say the pasta and polenta here ruined me for all future carbs. 

Iseo isn’t trying to dazzle you with glitz, it’s the kind of place that wins you over with its effortless charm.

Thinking of a romantic escape? This is it! 

Just don’t tell those tourists hoards wit no imagination heading for Lake Como. 

Let’s keep this treasure all to ourselves.

8. Why This Albanian Village Feels Like Stepping Into a Nature Documentary

Theth, Albania, is less a destination and more a step into a National Geographic spread.

Rugged peaks, crystal-clear springs, and a remoteness that feels like it’s been waiting just for you.

Getting there?

Equal parts bumpy roads and adventure (bonus points if you don’t spill your coffee).

The Blue Eye spring lives up to the hype, shimmering like it’s hiding a secret portal.

And the village? 

Think warm smiles, hearty mountain meals, and a pace of life that makes you forget the word “deadline.”

Late spring is perfect, cool enough for hiking without a sunburn or a mudslide.

9. This French Town’s Roman Ruins Will Make You Rethink History

Arles, France — where Roman ruins casually blend with Provençal charm.

The amphitheater?

It’s like the Colosseum’s laid-back cousin.

Walking through its arches, I could almost hear the gladiators (or maybe just my stomach growling for another croissant).

Then there’s the Rhône River, the very scene that inspired Van Gogh’s masterpieces.

Toss in some ancient baths and the relaxed pace of Provence, and you’ve got a town that feels both historic and impossibly chill.

Visit in summer for the Feria d’Arles, or in spring for quieter streets and the perfect excuse to eat pastries by the dozen.

10. This Quirky Capital Will Keep You Guessing (And Smiling)

Skopje, North Macedonia — where ancient charm collides with modern quirks so bold, you’re not sure if it’s paying homage to ancient Greece or auditioning for it’s version of “Hail Caesar”.

Start with the Stone Bridge, a no-nonsense nod to history. 

Cross it, and you’re in a world of monuments so over-the-top they’d make a Renaissance king wish he had access to 20th-century construction crews.

The Old Bazaar, though, is where Skopje really shines! 

It’s all winding alleys, Turkish coffee, and baklava you’ll pretend is for “later” (it’s not). I walked in for souvenirs and left full, caffeinated, and slightly lost, but happily so.

I was there in the summer, but from what I’ve been told, Spring is the time to visit: blooming parks, perfect weather, and enough charm to keep you exploring all day. 

Skopje also surprised me in a way no other city has, even in summer.

Now Discover Why These Europe’s Hidden Gems Are Worth the Detour For Yourself!

Forget the big-name spots and the revenge tourist hoards.

Europe’s quieter towns offer something better: authenticity, charm, and moments you can’t script.

These places aren’t loud, they let you stumble into their magic at your own pace.

Which one would you explore first? 

Or better yet, do you have a secret spot I missed?

I’m always chasing the next great adventure. 

The post 10 Undiscovered European Towns You Need To Visit Before Everyone Else Does! appeared first on Expats Planet.

I’ve Lived in Both! Discover These 2 Visa-Free Gems Where Americans Can Ditch the 90-Day Limit!

Why Visa-Free Living Is the Secret Dream for Americans Abroad

Ninety days. That’s what most European countries offer, and while it sounds generous, it’s barely enough time to unpack your suitcase before you’re scrambling to renew your stay or plan your next move.

When I found out Albania and Georgia let Americans stay visa-free for an entire year, I almost couldn’t believe it.

A whole year without sweating over visa extensions? It felt like winning the expat lottery.

In Georgia, you can immerse yourself in centuries-old winemaking traditions or hike through breathtaking mountains without worrying about overstaying.

And in Albania?

Imagine spending a year soaking up the sun on the Albanian Riviera, all while living for a fraction of what you’d spend in the U.S.

For remote workers, retirees, or anyone tired of watching their life revolve around visa deadlines, these policies are a dream come true.

Compare this to the tight restrictions in most of Europe, where 90 days is standard, and it’s no wonder Americans are flocking to these under-the-radar havens.

Albania and Georgia don’t just offer you a visa-free year, they offer freedom, period.

Saranda’s Off-Season: The Secret Paradise for Writers and Bureaucracy Dodgers

My first journey to Saranda didn’t exactly go as planned. The bus from Vlore was supposed to take two and a half hours, but after more stops than I could count and a driver who seemed to think “schedule” was a suggestion, we rolled into Saranda more than four hours later.

Exhausted but hopeful, I checked into a €20-per-night hotel room I’d booked to get my bearings and start apartment hunting.

I’d already put up a post in a local expat Facebook group, asking for leads on rentals.

The responses came flooding in. My cell never pinged so much!

There were plenty of options, but after meeting my Italian landlords for coffee the next morning, I knew I’d found my match.

They didn’t just hand me the keys, they took me on a little tour of Saranda, showing me its quiet charm before driving me to the apartment.

The moment I saw it, I knew, this was home.

I took the place on the spot and have been renting the same apartment every off-season ever since.

Saranda in the off-season is a world apart from its summer chaos though.

About 75% of the businesses are closed, and the streets are practically deserted.

If you’re looking for nightlife or a bustling social scene, this isn’t the place for you.

But for someone like me, who spends most of my time writing and values affordability, stunning views, and peace, it’s been perfect.

At €300 a month, my one-bedroom apartment, with a view of the Ionian Sea that never gets old, fits the bill.

I don’t have to deal with visa-hopping or residency headaches either.

During the summer months, I leave to avoid the crowds, inflated prices, and general madness of peak season.

Come October, I’m back, enjoying the quiet and simplicity of life here.

No bureaucracy, no bullshit, just the kind of calm that lets you breathe.

Sure, it’s not paradise. The off-season can feel like a ghost town, and there are moments when I wish I had more options for dining out or meeting people.

But for what I need, a tranquil spot to write, recharge, and stay in Europe without breaking the bank, it’s hard to imagine a better fit.

Saranda isn’t for everyone, but for me, it’s been exactly what I needed.

Georgia: Where Mountains, Food, Wine, and Hospitality Come with a Twist

After spending 20 years living and working in Ukraine, Georgia seemed like the logical next chapter.

The direct flight from Kyiv was under two hours, and both countries shared post-Soviet roots, although in different stages of development.

Unlike Ukraine, however, Georgia welcomed Americans with an incredibly generous one-year visa upon arrival.

With Russian still widely spoken alongside English, I felt right at home the moment I landed in February 2019.

Georgia seemed almost too good to be true back then. The cost of living was incredibly affordable, rent was a fraction of what you’d pay elsewhere, and the food, oh, the food!

Between the makeshift Georgian bread stalls scattered across every neighborhood, where piping hot loaves are pulled straight from clay pot ovens for just 25 cents, I quickly learned to carry a spare towel or gloves to avoid singeing my fingers on the way home.

Pair that with gooey khachapuri that oozes cheese like it’s on a mission to ruin your diet and the endless glasses of Saperavi wine, and I was sure I’d stumbled into carb-and-wine heaven.

But as they say, life is never about solutions, only trade-offs.

While Georgia’s affordability and warm hospitality were a dream, the country’s quirks soon revealed themselves.

Its odd-hour international flight schedules made it difficult to use as a home base for exploring Europe, and its distance from the rest of the continent added to the challenge.

Still, I stayed for four years, though in hindsight, two years too long.

Some extenuating circumstances made leaving difficult.

First came COVID-19, when Georgia essentially locked itself down for a year and a half.

And, just as things were opening up again, Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022 sent well over 100,000, (some estimates had it at over 200,000) Russians into Georgia, many arriving flush with USD savings.

This influx turned life in Georgia on its head. Rents soared, mine more than doubled, currency rates fluctuated wildly, and inflation hit hard.

The affordability that had initially drawn me to Georgia began to evaporate, making it harder to justify staying.

By December 2022, I decided it was time to move on, but not without appreciating what Georgia had offered me during those years.

Now, as I write this, Georgia has changed yet again. Many of the Russians who drove up prices have moved on or returned home, stabilizing rents and exchange rates.

But with the current political turmoil, marked by protests over election scandals, costs seem to be decreasing even further.

Georgia remains a place where mountains kiss the sky, wine flows endlessly, and hospitality knows no bounds.

The snow-capped peaks of Kazbegi, the ancient streets of Tbilisi, and the Black Sea’s gentle waves in Batumi still hold their magic.

But life here, much like its famous “chacha” (brandy), is an acquired taste, rich, intense, and not without a kick.

Looking back, I’ll always be grateful for the lessons and experiences Georgia gave me, even if it wasn’t the forever home I thought it might be.

Living the Visa-Free Dream: How I Make It Work in Albania and Georgia

Before I landed in Albania and learned that U.S. citizens get a one-year visa on arrival, I thought, “Perfect!”

But there’s a catch: after that year, you must leave for three months straight before re-entering.

No splitting it up, no creative math. For me, this “forced vacation” fits like a glove.

July, August, and September? The heat is stifling, the crowds overwhelming, and the prices absurd.

You couldn’t pay me to stick around during peak tourist season.

Instead, I use that time to explore nearby countries or head back to the U.S. for family and friends.

Georgia’s visa policy, on the other hand, feels like a cheat code for nomads. Americans also get a one-year visa on arrival, but every time you leave the country, that year resets.

Yes, even if you’re gone for just a day.

The only hitch?

Overstay your year, and you’ll face a fine, not life-altering, but an expense you can easily avoid by staying mindful of your dates.

As for longer stays or residency permits? I haven’t bothered. Harry Browne’s book “How I Found Freedom in an Unfree World” has shaped my approach to living abroad.

Avoiding bureaucracy is a pillar of my lifestyle, and frankly, I’ve never felt the need for the added paperwork.

But if you’re planning to buy property, get a car, or open a bank account, residency might be worth the effort.

Do your research, and decide if the juice is worth the bureaucratic squeeze.

Healthcare in both countries? Surprisingly decent and incredibly affordable.

Most routine issues can be handled out of pocket, and I’ve heard from locals and expats alike that private clinics in both Albania and Georgia offer excellent care, especially dental.

Still, I recommend investing in international health insurance, just in case. Peace of mind is priceless, especially for major issues.

Shop around, though, not all policies are created equal.

Quick tip: Ask locals for healthcare recommendations. Whether it’s a reliable doctor or the best clinic in town, they’ll steer you in the right direction.

And trust me, nothing beats local knowledge when navigating new systems.

In the end, whether you’re soaking in the Albanian Riviera or toasting at a Georgian supra, visa-free living in these two countries is as good as it gets, with a bit of planning and flexibility, of course.

Why Saranda Works for Me (and Why It Doesn’t for Some People)

Living in Saranda for my third off-season has taught me one thing: some people are really good at making themselves miserable.

Not me, though, I came prepared. My country recon, safety precautions, and mind-your-business mantra have kept me enjoying life here.

But oh, the stories I’ve heard from other expats who skipped the homework phase…

Let’s start with the dogs. Saranda has a soft spot for them, and so do the expats, until they don’t.

Take the retired American couple I met who “rescued” a stray dog in their first month.

All was fine until they decided to leave Albania and suddenly realized no airline in the world wanted to ship their unvaccinated, untrained street mutt. “Can someone please adopt him?!” they pleaded in every expat Facebook group. No takers.

Turns out, pawning off your new family isn’t so easy. It’s even worse with cats.

Then there’s the Starbucks crowd. One American woman was beside herself over the lack of her favorite venti pumpkin spice latte.

“Why would they not have Starbucks here? They have one just over there in Corfu, a 30 minute ferry ride away,” she huffed at a café while sipping a cappuccino that cost a third of the price.

I wanted to tell her the stray dogs probably drank it all, but I figured she wouldn’t appreciate the humor.

Oh, and the retired couple again.

The husband, trying to navigate the local butcher, found himself miming “chicken breast” like some kind of chicken charades champion.

The butcher handed him a bag of chicken feet with a grin.

His wife was horrified when he brought them home. “We’re not eating “this”! How can they not understand?” she cried.

Google Translate, folks, it exists for a reason.

But if Wi-Fi complaints were a sport, expats here would win gold.

Add in power cuts, and you’ve got yourself a double event.

“How can I work remotely with the internet cutting out every other hour?” one digital nomad ranted. “And why does the power go out too every time I’m making coffee?”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him about Saranda’s “unique” infrastructure.

Same goes for the tap water, it’s not drinkable, but they sell bottled water everywhere.

Still, some people act like they’ve been personally betrayed when they find out their Brita just doesn’t work here.

And then there are the fireworks. At first, they seem, well, charming, a little pop of festivity in the middle of the night.

But by the fifth random explosion at 3 a.m. on a Tuesday, you start to wonder if you’ve moved to a war zone.

Combine that with taxi drivers charging what I can only assume is the GDP of a small country for a ride to catch your bus out of town, and it’s easy to see why some expats lose their minds.

For me, it’s all part of the adventure. If you don’t like it, you leave, that’s what a passport is for.

But some expats can’t seem to wrap their heads around that concept.

Here’s the thing: Albania, nor Georgia for that matter are perfect, but they’re not trying to be.

You either roll with it or let it roll over you. I mind my own business, respect the culture, and laugh at the quirks.

And if I ever stop enjoying it?

There’s a taxi (overpriced, of course) waiting to take me to catch the next bus out of town. Problem solved.

How Albania and Georgia Can Ruin You for Ordinary Nomadic Travel

It’s a crisp November morning in Saranda, and as I sip coffee from my balcony overlooking the glassy Ionian Sea, it hits me, this is my third off-season here, and I can’t imagine being anywhere else.

The tourists are gone, the air is clean, and the supermarket cashier now greets me with a smile that says, “You’re one of us.”

For just a buck, I walk away with a kilo of those irresistible clementines, the tiny ones that practically peel themselves and disappear faster than popcorn during a Netflix binge.

Seriously, they’re like nature’s answer to junk food, but without the guilt.

And, of course, these cheap and tasty citrus delights show up only during the off-season, because Saranda has this uncanny knack for giving you exactly what you never knew you needed, right when you didn’t even know to ask.

This place has a way of sneaking into your heart when you’re too busy being amazed by its charm to notice.

Take the cost of living, for example.

A fresh plate of grilled fish and a seaside view that would cost a fortune on the Amalfi Coast would set you back less than your Netflix subscription.

Sure, the Wi-Fi might cut out mid-Zoom call, but that’s just Saranda’s way of reminding me to take a break and watch the sunset instead.

Georgia, on the other hand, seduces you differently.

My first supra (traditional Georgian feast) wasn’t just a meal, it was a marathon of toasts, laughter, and stories, all orchestrated by a tamada (toastmaster) who could probably moonlight as a stand-up comic.

By the end of the night, I was stuffed with khinkali and convinced I’d accidentally been adopted by a Georgian family.

What makes these countries stand out? Europe’s usual suspects, France, Italy, Spain and now Portugal may offer polished charm, but Albania and Georgia serve up raw, unfiltered authenticity.

In Georgia, I’ve haggled for fresh honey at roadside stalls and gotten directions from strangers who insisted on walking me there.

In Albania, it’s not just ancient ruins that catch your eye, it’s the odd pillbox-style bunkers dotted across the landscape like the country’s quirky freckles.

Built during the paranoia of a bygone era, these concrete mushrooms pop up everywhere: beaches, mountains, even the middle of someone’s farmland.

Exploring them feels like stepping into a Cold War fever dream, and you can’t help but wonder what stories their thick walls could tell, if they weren’t so busy blending into the scenery.

Living here hasn’t just changed my travel habits, it’s changed me.

In Saranda, the first thing you notice is the quiet, an off-season kind of quiet that feels luxurious.

Every morning, I walk the promenade off to the side of me, the Ionian Sea stretches out in swirling blues and greens, looking like Van Gogh himself took a stab at painting waves.

It’s mesmerizing enough to make me forget I was supposed to be answering emails.

Georgia showed me the magic of community, a place where celebrations spill over into the streets, grief is shared with open hearts, and there’s always an extra chair at the table, just in case a stranger or a friend decides to join.

These countries have a way of cracking open your perspective.

They ruin you for anywhere else, not because they’re perfect, but because they show you what’s possible when life is stripped of pretense.

Why Saranda, Albania, Is the Ultimate Escape from Europe’s 90/180 Visa-Free Shuffle

I never thought I’d spend three off-seasons in a tiny Albanian beach town, but here I am, typing this with a view of the Ionian Sea that’s so blue it looks fake.

Saranda has become my winter escape, and honestly, I’m starting to wonder if I’m spoiled for life.

The first thing you notice is the quiet, an off-season kind of quiet that feels luxurious.

The summer crowds are gone, leaving behind locals who greet you like an old friend.

Every morning, I stroll the promenade, fueled by a couple of cups of strong Italian espresso, brewed to perfection with the sleek espresso machine my Italian landlords swore was non-negotiable. “You can’t live without it,” they said.

Turns out, they were right.

Because, well, they’re Italian, and having an espresso machine at home is as essential as having a fridge.

As I walk off the effects of my morning liquid jet fuel, I listen to the waves and catch myself thinking, “Is this real life?”

Renting here is shockingly affordable, especially off-season.

My landlords were all smiles when they realized I was American and could outstay even their European neighbors, thanks to Albania’s generous visa policy. “Long-term discount,” they called it.

But let’s be honest, I also think the real appeal was having a clean, quiet tenant who didn’t smoke, had no kids, pets or would whine about the Wi-Fi cutting out mid-Zoom call and could stay longer than the usual 90 days.

Less turnover meant less cleaning, stable rent, and, best of all, I’d happily vacate for the summer tourist invasion when they could charge four times what I was paying to sunburned vacationers desperate for a sea view.

Win-win!

Speaking of Wi-Fi, it’s about as reliable as an old ATM card, working flawlessly one second, and the next, the machine swallowing it up, leaving you stranded and questioning all your life choices.

After one too many Zoom calls turned into awkward freeze-frame moments, I wised up and got a local SIM card with 4G and enough data to stream an entire season of “Breaking Bad”.

Now, when the Wi-Fi decides to take a holiday, I’m ready to weather those “lapses” like a flexible, seasoned expat.

Food is another story. While some markets do boast some standout gems, those outstanding clementine I boasted about earlier, and olives that taste like they were handpicked from Zeus’s garden, the overall selection can leave you scratching your head.

Restaurants, the ones that remain open in the off-season, can redeem the scene with seafood so fresh it practically flops onto your plate.

It’s a mix of hits and misses, but when the hits land, they’re awesome.

But it’s not all sunshine and olive oil. Although the rainbows can look like they just appeared right out of a Lord of the Rings episode.

The buses, or lack thereof however, can make you question every life choice you’ve ever made.

And Albanian bureaucracy?

Let’s just say from what I’ve heard, is a special kind of adventure, think scavenger hunt, but with paperwork.

Still, Saranda has this magic that keeps pulling me back. It’s not perfect, but it’s perfectly imperfect, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

How about you?

Could a year in Albania or Georgia change your life?

The post 2 European Countries Where Americans Can Stay Visa Free For 1 Year! appeared first on Expats Planet.

Let’s face it, Venice is already on the edges of ruin.

If we can’t save it the old-fashioned way, why not embrace the inevitable and turn it into the most fabulous theme park humanity has ever seen?

When You’ve Lived Abroad Long Enough, Even the Absurd Starts to Make Sense

As an expat who lived in Ukraine for 20 years, I’d seen my fair share of culture shocks and the peculiar ways humanity decides to reframe history.

I’ve stood in awe of places like Chernobyl, where a once-devastated nuclear disaster area has been transformed into a macabre tourist attraction.

The “exclusion zone” itself now welcomes adventure-seekers armed with radiation detectors, guided by experts sharing chilling stories of the disaster.

Amateur vloggers and film crews wander through its hauntingly desolate landscapes and abandoned Soviet apartment blocks, capturing the eerie beauty of a place frozen in 1986.

It’s a surreal blend of history and adventure tourism, where the echoes of a catastrophic past coexist with the present-day curiosity of visitors, as twisted as they may be.

If a radioactive wasteland can transform into a bucket-list destination, complete with Geiger counters as souvenirs, then why not re-imagine Venice, a city of legendary beauty yet grappling with its own impending demise, as a carefully curated masterpiece of managed tourism?

Venice has always been the one place that’s eluded me, the way kids dream of Disney World, I dream of this floating city.

A place that dazzles with its canals and palazzos but, let’s be real, is drowning in every sense of the word.

Scrolling through endless travel photos of soggy piazzas and selfie-stick battles, it struck me.

Venice doesn’t need saving, it needs rebranding!

Let’s skip the delusion that it’s still a “real city” and embrace the inevitable. 

It’s time to transform Venice into the ultimate living, breathing, gondola-filled theme park.

Yes, I said it! 

Now, let me explain why this makes far more sense than you might think.

1. Venice Already Looks Like a Theme Park Without the Rides

Picture this, cobblestone streets crammed with day-tripping tourists, gondoliers in striped shirts shouting over the chaos, and souvenir shops selling overpriced trinkets.

Sound familiar? 

Venice is halfway there, just swap the medieval history for Mickey Mouse, and voilà!

But what if, instead of fighting this fate, Venice leaned into it? 

Imagine gondolas equipped with optional augmented reality glasses that recreate historical scenes as you float by.

And don’t even get me started on a Venetian food court with “authentic” pasta tastings.

Intrigued? 

Just wait until you hear what happens to Piazza San Marco.

2. How to Turn Cruise Ship Chaos Into Cultural Magic!

You’ve seen the photos, cruise ships towering over Venice like out of place skyscrapers in a renaissance painting.

These massive vessels unload thousands of tourists every day, flooding fragile streets and overwhelming iconic landmarks.

But what if we embraced Venice as a global treasure with a thoughtful plan to manage this influx, preserving its authenticity while protecting its future?

Instead of allowing the chaotic rush onto the Rialto Bridge or into Piazza San Marco, visitors could begin their Venetian journey at a carefully designed “The Venetian Gateway.”

This hub would not be a gaudy imitation of the city but a thoughtful starting point to distribute crowds evenly across the historic areas.

From the port, guests would move on using transparent walkways that elevate them above Venice’s delicate infrastructure, giving breathtaking views of the canals while minimizing wear and tear on the historic streets.

To ensure everyone experiences the city’s magic without overcrowding, visitors could receive timed-entry passes for each section, granting them access to specific areas like Saint Mark’s Basilica or the Doge’s Palace during designated windows.

This would replace the current free-for-all with a calm, curated journey through Venice’s treasures.

For those yearning to glide through the city’s legendary canals, pre-booked small-group gondola experiences would be available.

These aren’t your average rides, each gondola would follow routes designed to highlight the lesser-known, serene parts of Venice.

Gondoliers would act as cultural ambassadors, sharing stories of Venice’s history and traditions.

Imagine floating through quieter canals while hearing tales of Venetian merchants, masked balls, and the city’s rise as a maritime power.

As an added touch, augmented reality apps could reveal historical layers of the city during the ride, offering glimpses of Venice as it once was, without detracting from its present beauty.

At the Venetian Gateway, instead of gimmicky simulators, visitors could witness live demonstrations of traditional crafts.

Watch artisans shape molten Murano glass or learn the intricate art of gondola construction.

These stations would not only educate but connect visitors to the living history of Venice, making them part of its preservation.

This isn’t about turning Venice into a spectacle, it’s about making the real Venice accessible and sustainable.

The gondolas are waiting, the walkways are ready, and the city is yours to explore, if you’re prepared to see what’s next.

3. Venetian Locals Could Finally Profit from the Madness

Meet Maria Rossi, a fictional (but totally relatable) fourth-generation Venetian artisan who crafts Murano glass.

Maria loves her city but despises the unregulated chaos of tourism.

By turning Venice into a formal theme park, Maria could become a featured “live exhibit,” demonstrating her craft to eager visitors while earning a steady paycheck.

Locals like Maria would finally have a sustainable way to thrive without being pushed out by Airbnb rentals and rising costs.

And the kicker? 

Some residents might even get paid to stay.

But what’s in it for the visitor? 

Let me paint the picture.

4. Themed Zones Would Bring History to Life, And Keep Tourists in Line

Imagine a Venice where every neighborhood transforms into an immersive experience.

Dorsoduro becomes “Artisan Alley,” with glassblowing workshops and mask-making demos.

Cannaregio morphs into “Renaissance Row,” featuring reenactments of historical events.

Controlled entry, just like a theme park, means no more overcrowded bridges or overflowing trash bins. 

Tourists get a curated experience, and Venice gets to breathe.

But don’t worry, it’s not all structure and order. 

Wait until you hear about the thrilling new attractions for adrenaline junkies.

5. Flooding? Call It a Water-Based Adventure Ride

Venice is sinking, and the rising tides are no joke.

But hear me out: what if we turned the floods into part of the experience?

Transparent walkways could double as observation decks during acqua alta, while gondolas navigate new “water mazes” created by the rising tides.

Visitors would leave with stories about braving the Venetian waters instead of Instagram shots of their feet in puddles.

It’s disaster tourism with a dash of innovation.

And if you think that’s audacious, wait until you hear about the eco-friendly tech behind this idea.

6. Technology Can Make Venice Immersive Without Destroying It

From augmented reality tours to holographic history lessons in Piazza San Marco, technology could revolutionize how we experience Venice.

Instead of trampling through the Doge’s Palace, visitors could explore it virtually, preserving the delicate structure for future generations.

Corporate sponsorships could fund eco-projects, like expanding the MOSE flood barrier or creating self-sustaining energy systems for the city.

And speaking of funding, you’ll never guess who would foot the bill for this extravaganza.

7. The World Would Finally Have a Theme Park for Adults

Let’s be real, Disney World is great, but where’s the magic for grown-ups who crave history, culture, and really good wine? 

Venice could corner this market with its cobblestone streets as “paths of nostalgia” and canals as “rivers of romance.”

Imagine a nightly light show projected onto the Grand Canal, complete with Venetian opera and wine tastings.

It’s like Epcot, but with fewer screaming kids and more prosecco. 

Still not convinced?

What Are We Waiting For?

Venice as a theme park isn’t just a wild idea, it’s a lifeboat for a city on the brink of collapse. I understand that some of these ideas mentioned above may already exist in one form or another.

What I’m saying is, why not go all in?

By embracing this model, we could preserve its culture, ease the burden on its residents, and create a sustainable future.

Sure, it’s controversial (I know I’ll hear a lot about it in the comments), but so is watching a city crumble under its own charm.

What do you think? 

Could Venice become the world’s most glamorous theme park? 

The post 7 Reasons Why Venice Needs To Be Turned Into The World’s Most Glamorous Theme Park, Seriously! appeared first on Expats Planet.

Europe 2025! Overpriced, overcrowded, and buried in tourist taxes and red tape. Here’s what no one’s brave enough to tell you about next year’s Eurotrip chaos.

1. When Your Dream Vacation Becomes a Crowded Nightmare

Imagine, you’re in Venice, gondola daydreams in full swing, only to realize every other person on Earth had the same idea.

Revenge tourism has turned Europe into a living theme park, shoulder-to-shoulder crowds, selfie sticks smacking your face, and no personal space in sight.

Locals are fed up. Barcelona wants its streets back, Venice is charging €5 just to enter, and Canary Islanders are protesting en masse.

You thought Europe was magical? The locals think you’re part of a curse.

2. Your Wallet Will Cry Before You Even Get There

Ah, Europe! The land of budget airlines and cheap hostels, right? Think again.

In 2025, Europe’s tourist tax game is hitting new highs, and your wallet won’t stand a chance.

Barcelona’s municipal tax is up to €4 per night.

Greece is tacking on up to €8 daily for short-term rentals, plus a €20 fee for cruise passengers in Santorini and Mykonos.

Italy?

They’re charging between €5 and €25 per night “nationwide”.

Suddenly, that “affordable” Airbnb feels more like a five-star splurge.

These taxes fund local infrastructure, so while you sip your €8 latte, locals might be thanking you, or protesting your visit.

3. Paperwork, Passwords, and Panicking at the Border

Think booking your trip is tough? 2025 turns traveling into a paperwork marathon.

First, meet “EES” and “ETIAS”: Europe’s shiny new systems requiring you to register biometric data, think fingerprints and a groggy airport selfie, plus a fee for ETIAS to ensure you’re “approved.”

And don’t think the UK is giving you a break.

Their new “Electronic Travel Authorisation (ETA)” costs £10 and applies even to transit passengers.

It’s like Brexit’s parting shot! Fees and forms out the whazoo!

Add stricter border controls, the expanded Schengen Area, and voilà, your dream trip turns into a logistical circus.

4. Airbnb? More Like “Air-B and Banned”

Dreaming of a cozy Airbnb? Not so fast, Europe’s coming for short-term rentals.

Lisbon might ban them altogether in residential areas, and Rome’s outlawed self-check-ins, meaning your host now has to personally vet you.

Romantic, right?

Meanwhile, locals are sick of tourists driving up rents and turning neighborhoods into overcrowded Insta-traps.

What’s left? Overpriced hotels or a reluctant return to hostel life.

5. The Locals Are Over It (And Over You)

In 2025, European locals aren’t rolling out the welcome mat, they’re rolling out protest banners and water guns.

From Barcelona, where residents are fed up with tourists clogging streets and jacking up housing prices, to Venice, now charging day-trippers just to walk around, the message is clear:

“Thanks for visiting. Now go home.”

Even the Canary Islands have seen tens of thousands protesting overtourism, and it’s not just the big cities.

Quaint towns are buckling under selfie-stick invasions, with locals feeling like they’re living in a theme park.

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be the villain in someone else’s story, a 2025 Eurotrip might be your chance.

6. Sustainability Rules Are Killing the Vibe

Remember when travel was carefree? Europe in 2025 wants to guilt-trip you for everything, your carbon footprint, your car, even your casual strolls.

Take Benidorm, Spain: without an eco-friendly car or a €200 permit, forget navigating their new Low Emission Zone.

Meanwhile, ski resorts in the French Alps are pivoting to year-round tourism as climate change melts the snow faster than you can say ”après-ski.”

And Venice? It’s charging €5 just to walk in, with gondoliers ready to side-eye anyone who doesn’t pay.

Saving the planet? Great.

Saving your trip’s spontaneity?

Not so much.

Permits and fees now dictate your every move, leaving little room for impromptu adventures.

7. Big Brother Is Watching: Spain’s Creepy Registration Rules

Think handing over your passport at check-in is bad? Spain is turning travel bureaucracy into an art form.

Starting late 2024, tourists in hotels, Airbnbs, or campsites must provide not just a passport but also contact details, emergency numbers, credit card info, and practically everything short of your blood type.

That charming hostel in Barcelona? It’s more “border checkpoint” than cozy retreat.

Say goodbye to smooth check-ins, this feels more like applying for a loan.

Officially, it’s for “guest safety,” but it’s really a data grab that leaves you bracing for fingerprint scans in the future.

And Spain’s not alone. Greece has ramped up short-term rental rules, while Italy bans self-check-ins, requiring hosts to verify your ID in person.

A once-relaxing vacation now feels like a European bureaucracy bootcamp, loaded with forms, fees, and frustration.

8. When Cheap Flights Cost You More Than Money

Remember when you could zip around Europe on €20 flights, cappuccino in Italy one day, croissant in Paris the next?

Well, 2025 has grounded that dream.

First, brace yourself for “Entry/Exit System (EES)” delays.

Biometric scans might sound sleek, but in practice, they mean long lines, missed connections, and the stress of your fingerprints refusing to cooperate.

Add stricter border controls and the expanded Schengen Area, and your multi-country adventure starts to feel like a bureaucratic boot camp.

Oh, and those “cheap” flights?

They come with hidden costs!

ETIAS application fees, surprise baggage charges, and sneaky “environmental surcharges.”

By the time you’ve cleared the red tape, your bargain flight feels more like an overpriced obstacle course.

9. Europe Is Overrun, But the Alternatives Are Calling Your Name

Here’s the deal, while Europe piles on taxes, red tape, and anti-tourist vibes, the rest of the world is rolling out the welcome mat.

Southeast Asia? Affordable, friendly, and blissfully free of €25-a-night tourist taxes.

South America? Packed with culture, adventure, and no Venice-style entry fees just to stroll the streets.

Why battle crowds in Paris or Barcelona when you could be sipping Malbec, savoring Argentinian steak, and dancing the tango in Buenos Aires, or basking on a Thai beach with zero hassle?

Europe’s great, sure, but in 2025, it’s shaping up to be more stress than it’s worth.

10. Staycation, Anyone? Why Home Is the New Hotspot

Let’s face it, 2025 is the perfect year to skip Europe and rediscover your own backyard.

With the EU piling on tourist taxes, biometric scans, and endless red tape, staying closer to home has never been smarter, or more appealing.

Romania and Bulgaria joining the Schengen Area might sound like a win for travelers, but for longer-term visitors, it’s just another blow.

The expanded zone enforces stricter 90-day limits for non-EU citizens, turning multi-month adventures into a ticking clock.

Meanwhile, back home, hidden hiking trails, quirky towns, underrated museums, and even that restaurant you’ve been meaning to try are calling.

No tourist taxes, no bureaucratic headaches, and no side-eye from fed-up locals.

Best of all? You’re the one in control!

No missed flights, no biometric hiccups, and no stressing over whether your Airbnb host has the right license.

In 2025, the best trip might just be the one that doesn’t require a passport.

Europe isn’t going anywhere.

Europe Can Wait! 2025 Is for Smarter Choices

Europe’s charm is timeless, but 2025 might not be the year to indulge.

Soaring taxes, endless red tape, and grumpy locals could turn your dream getaway into a logistical migraine.

Add stricter Schengen rules cutting longer-term stays, and even veteran travelers might think twice.

The good news? You don’t need to brave the chaos.

From hidden treasures in your own backyard to exploring less-traveled regions, there are plenty of ways to satisfy your wanderlust.

The Eiffel Tower and Venice’s canals will still be waiting in 2026, hopefully with fewer headaches.

Remember: sometimes the best trips don’t even need a passport.

What do you think?

Do you agree with skipping Europe in 2025, or do you have a plan to tackle the chaos head-on?

The post 10 Reasons Not To Visit Europe In 2025… And Save Your Sanity! appeared first on Expats Planet.

Discover why Ukrainians turn every sip into a story, blending heartfelt tradition with vodka-soaked hilarity. These toasts aren’t just words, they’re a masterclass in connection, culture, and making sure you never drink alone.

Raise a Glass and Buckle Up: My Crash Course in Ukrainian Toasting

When I first stepped into a Ukrainian family dinner, I thought I was prepared.

I’d eaten the borscht, survived the Cyrillic street signs, and even practiced saying “cheers” in Ukrainian (it’s “Будьмо!”, if you’re wondering).

But nothing and I mean, nothing, prepared me for the emotional rollercoaster of Ukrainian toasting.

From poetic tributes to belly-busting jokes, every toast carried more weight than the Vodka or Gorilka that followed.

By the time the fourth toast hit, I realized I wasn’t just drinking, I was smack dab in the middle of an elaborate social ritual where every word, every glance, every sip mattered.

Just as I felt I had it down, my girlfriend’s father stood, raised his glass, and delivered a toast that shattered everything I thought I knew about Ukrainian culture.

What Is Toasting, Ukrainian-Style?

Toasting in Ukraine isn’t a casual “cheers.” It’s a ritual with rules, some unwritten, others practically sacred.

• Rule one: maintain eye contact when clinking glasses, or you might as well insult their babushka’s borscht.
• Rule two: follow the toast order.

The first is to health, but things quickly escalate to heartfelt speeches about love, family, and patriotism, like Shakespeare, but with more vodka or Ukrainian Gorilka.

And when it’s time to toast the ladies? 

Stand up! 

Staying seated is like showing up to a wedding without a gift, awkward and unforgettable for all the wrong reasons.

Most importantly, always drink after the toast. Skipping your sip?

That’s basically declaring war on your host.

Break any of these rules, and trust me, the fallout will last longer than your hangover…

Russian-Speaking Ukrainians: Toasting Across Two Worlds

In Ukraine, toasting isn’t just about the words — it’s the delivery. For Russian-speaking Ukrainians, it’s a tightrope walk between two cultures.

One moment, they’re honoring family history in Russian, the next, they’re shouting “Будьмо!” (Let us be!) with Ukrainian gusto.

It’s cultural fusion, one shot at a time.

During the Soviet era, Russian dominated public life, especially in cities like Kyiv, but Ukrainian culture thrived in homes, music, and toasts.

Now, with a revival of Ukrainian pride, toasts like “Слава Україні!” (Glory to Ukraine!) are taking the spotlight, even among Russian speakers.

Here’s the twist: these toasts are more than words, they’re subtle declarations of identity and resilience. 

Sometimes, they’re even show-stoppers.

Like that one time a toast made my host laugh, cry, and reach for bottle number two in the same breath…

Vodka with Heart: Emotional and Patriotic Toasts That Stir the Soul

Ukrainian toasts hit harder than the vodka, straight to the heart.

Take ”За любов!” (“To love!”), a toast so heartfelt it could make a Hallmark movie feel underwhelming.

Or ”За батьків!” (“To the parents!”), which can transform the gruffest uncle into a misty-eyed philosopher with one sip.

But the real show-stoppers? The patriotic toasts. ”За Україну!” (“To Ukraine!”) and ”Слава Україні!” (“Glory to Ukraine!”) are pure power moves, uniting everyone in the room with glasses raised and hearts swelling.

And when the rallying cry ”Героям слава!” (“Glory to the heroes!”) echoes back, it’s not just a toast, it’s a moment of defiance and hope.

Of course, the best toast I ever heard was unscripted, delivered by a tipsy grandmother.

Somehow, in one sentence, she roasted her son-in-law, cracked everyone up, and left us all teary-eyed.

Ukrainian toasts: always emotional, often hilarious, and totally unpredictable. What’s next? 

You never know, but you’ll definitely want to stay for it.

Humor in the Glass: The Funniest Ukrainian Toasts

Not every Ukrainian toast will make you cry ,  some are comedy gold. Take ”Щоб завжди було за що і з ким!” (“May we always have something to drink for and someone to drink with!”), it’s (as the Brits say, cheeky), clever, and often guarantees a refill.

Or ”Чтобы всегда было за что выпить!” (“May we always have something to drink for!”), perfect for celebrating anything from a promotion to surviving a bad Monday.

The real gems, though, are improvised.

Like the time my landlord in Donetsk, a man with family ties in Moscow but who had a special place in his heart for his Ukrainian roots, raised his glass and declared, “To Ukraine, may we always be free, and may my relatives in Moscow finally learn to cook proper borscht!”

The room erupted in laughter, except for his wife, who rolled her eyes and muttered something about his obsession with food.

Of course, humor can backfire.

Once, I butchered a toast so badly that I accidentally said something wildly inappropriate.

I had stressed the wrong syllable on the word “to write” and it roughly translated, “to piss”…

The room exploded in laughter, not the good kind. But that disaster earned me a warm toast of my own, welcoming me into the group.

Little did I know, the next toast would completely change the tone of the evening…

The Future of Toasting in Ukraine

Toasting in Ukraine is evolving, and younger generations are shaking things up.

Gone are the days of defaulting to Russian. I saw this more and more often after the Euromaidan events of 2013-2014.

Now, it’s all about proudly raising a glass with “Будьмо!” or “Слава Україні!”, reclaiming cultural identity with every cheer.

The settings have leveled up too.

What once happened in cramped kitchens now thrives in trendy bars, but the heart of toasting remains: heartfelt, hilarious, and deeply patriotic. 

Each toast I’ve seen is a masterclass in humor, emotion, and tradition.

And every time I hear the resounding “Будьмо!”, I wonder, what unforgettable twist will the next toast bring?

Raising a Glass to Connection and Culture

Toasting in Ukraine isn’t just tradition, it’s storytelling with a shot of vodka.

From tearful tributes to parents to rowdy cheers for family members far away, every toast is packed with heart and history.

For Russian-speaking Ukrainians, it’s also a cultural balancing act, blending two languages to celebrate one identity.

So, the next time you’re at a Ukrainian table, whether in a cozy flat or a swanky Kyiv café, don’t just mumble “cheers.”

Lock eyes, lift your glass, and dive into the art of the toast. As they say in Ukraine, “Будьмо!”

Toast Cheat Sheet: Your Guide to 15 Ukrainian and Russian Toasts

Classic Ukrainian Toasts
1. Будьмо! — “Let us be!”
Pronunciation: “BOOD-mo!”
Occasion: Universal.

2. На здоров’я! — “To health!”
Pronunciation: “Nah zdoh-ROH-vyah!”
Occasion: General well-being.

3. За любов! — “To love!”
Pronunciation: “Zah loo-BOHV!”
Occasion: Romantic or heartfelt gatherings.

4. За мир! — “To peace!”
Pronunciation: “Zah MEER!”
Occasion: Reflective or patriotic moments.

5. “За батьків!” — “To the parents!”
Pronunciation: “Zah baht-KEEV!”
Occasion: Family celebrations.

6. За дітей! — “To the children!”
Pronunciation: “Zah dee-TYEH!”
Occasion: Celebrating the younger generation.

7. За Україну! — “To Ukraine!”
Pronunciation: “Zah Oo-krah-YEE-noo!”
Occasion: Patriotic gatherings.

Classic Russian Toasts
8. За здоровье! — “To health!”
Pronunciation: “Zah zdah-ROV-yeh!”
Occasion: Universally used.

9. За любовь! — “To love!”
Pronunciation: “Zah loo-BOHV!”
Occasion: Romantic celebrations.

10. За мир! — “To peace!”
Pronunciation: “Zah MEER!”
Occasion: Reflective or patriotic moments.

11. За родителей! — “To the parents!”
Pronunciation: “Zah roh-DEE-tee-lyeh!”
Occasion: Family events.

12. За детей! — “To the children!”
Pronunciation: “Zah dee-TYEH!”
Occasion: Youth-focused celebrations.

13. Чтобы всегда было за что выпить! — “May we always have something to drink for!”
Pronunciation: “SHTOH-bee vsee-GDAH BOO-loh zah shtoh VIP-eet!”
Occasion: Humorous, informal.

Toasts for the Ladies

In Ukrainian:
14. “За жінок!” — To the women!
– Pronunciation: “Zah ZHEE-nok!”
– Occasion: Celebrations honoring women , especially on International Women’s Day or family events.

In Russian:
15. “За женщин!” — “To the women!”
– Pronunciation: “Zah ZHEN-sheen!”
– Occasion: Similar to Ukrainian, used to celebrate and honor women during special gatherings.

Both toasts are heartfelt tributes, traditionally delivered with men standing up to show respect. 

Now you’re ready to toast like a local, just don’t forget the eye contact! Cheers!

Or as they say in Ukraine, “Будьмо!”

Researching this article was a nostalgic journey for me, reviving toasts I’d nearly forgotten since leaving Ukraine.

Here are the sources I had used for this article and to revive my own memory. 

Sources

• Ukrainian Cultural Encyclopedia: “Traditions of Toasting in Ukrainian Celebrations”
• A Guide to Toasting in Ukraine | What’s On Kyiv
• Toasting Culture in Ukraine | Speak Ukrainian
• History of Kyiv — Wikipedia
• Honest History 2: Where, why Ukrainians speak Russian language (and how Kremlin uses it to stoke conflict in Ukraine) | Kyiv Post
• My Own Personal Experiences: Anecdotes and reflections from 20+ years living in Kyiv, Ukraine. (I still have a few left.)

The post 15 Ukrainian & Russian Toasts That Will Make You Laugh, Cry & Reaching For Another Shot! appeared first on Expats Planet.

From fake tanks to faded murals, my search for Soviet-era symbols turned into a wild adventure. Here’s why these relics of the past are more important than they seem.

Lost Lenins and Forgotten Histories

When I first landed in Ukraine in 1998, I expected a Cold War time capsule: towering Lenins, hammer-and-sickle murals, and heroic workers marching toward utopia.

What I found instead felt like a bad game of hide-and-seek.

The statues? Many gone. The murals? Painted over or peeling away.

Soviet history hadn’t greeted me, it had packed up and left town.

But disappointment soon gave way to adventure.

The hunt reminded me of childhood walks out in the deserts of New Mexico with my step-grandfather, searching for arrowheads and pottery fragments.

Now, halfway across the world, I was chasing Lenins instead of arrowheads and pottery, uncovering stories hidden in the weeds.

Join me on this twisted treasure hunt, where I found not just statues, but something far more surprising.

1. The Ghosts of Soviet History: Traces Hidden in Plain Sight

My search for Soviet relics in Kyiv didn’t lead to grand “statue parks” or curated displays.

Instead, I found scattered symbols woven into the city itself.

The Friendship Arch still stood boldly near the river, but other relics were more subtle, the hammer-and-sickle designs on old gates, or Red Stars perched on rooftops like forgotten ornaments.

It was like someone had left the star on Rockefeller Center’s Christmas tree, year after year, either out of laziness or because no one wanted to deal with the hassle.

But here, the star wasn’t festive, it was a faint reminder of a regime Ukraine had worked hard to leave behind.

As much as Kyiv tried to shed its Soviet past, small traces lingered, clinging stubbornly to corners and crevices.

These weren’t monuments anymore, just relics too obscure or inconvenient to erase.

If you think these symbols had a rough fate, wait until you hear about the murals, they didn’t even get to stick around.

2. Faded Glory: Murals That Tried to Ghost Us 

You know those Soviet murals of muscular workers, heroic women holding wheat, and rockets soaring into the cosmos? I thought they’d be everywhere in Ukraine.

Instead, most had practically faded away, thanks in part to the famously bad quality of Soviet paint, which I discovered for myself when leaning on walls in many old building’s common areas left streaks on my coat.

Occasionally, I’d spot a faint hammer and sickle peeking through cracked plaster on a decrepit factory wall.

An old factory called “Bolshevik”, where I once gave private lessons to the director, stood out.

Between classes, I’d wander the grounds, marveling at faded murals clinging to life, as if hiding in the shadows.

Once, as I lingered after a lesson, a scowling babushka snapped, “What’s so interesting?”

To workers like her, these murals weren’t history, they were scars of a painful era better forgotten.

3. The Hidden Relics: When History Hides in Plain Sight

In Donetsk and Kharkiv, not all Soviet relics had vanished. The massive Lenin statues still dominated the squares, their presence impossible to ignore.

But it was the smaller remnants that fascinated me, a chipped stone depiction of a factory worker gripping a wrench on a dilapidated building in Donetsk, or a weathered Soviet slogan barely legible on an factory wall in Kharkiv.

Even the smallest details, like a faded red star etched into the iron gate of an abandoned office building, hinted at the past.

A passerby glanced at me with a puzzled expression, probably wondering why anyone cared about such a relic.

These relics didn’t shout, they lingered, waiting to be noticed.

But what about places where the relics were gone entirely? That led me to my next hunt.

4. The Lenin That Wasn’t: A Wild Goose Chase in Tbilisi

In Tbilisi, I’d heard rumors of a Lenin statue still lurking somewhere in the city.

Intrigued, I hopped into a taxi, guidebook in hand, and asked my driver, “Lenin?”

He grinned, shrugged, and took off, ready to stretch this goose chase for all it was worth.

We tore through Tbilisi, past crumbling old Soviet blocks, bustling markets, and hillside parks.

Each stop was a dead end: an empty plaza, a converted government building, even a flea market where the closest thing to Lenin was a pile of Soviet medals and rusty samovars.

After an hour of increasingly vague detours, it became clear I’d been had.

Lenin hadn’t survived 1991, his marble likely smashed and sold off for souvenirs long ago.

My driver, grinning ear to ear, happily collected his inflated fare while I admitted defeat.

No Lenin, no pedestal, just a reminder that the spirit of enterprise thrives in Tbilisi.

But it left me wondering: what did locals think of tourists chasing relics of a painful past? Their answers would surprise

5. Locals’ Take on My Obsession: “Why Do You Care?”

In Kyiv, my fascination with Soviet relics amused and baffled my friends.

Over a plate of varenyky, I asked Katya if she knew where a rumored Stalin statue might still be standing. She laughed and said, “Why do you even care? We tore it down years ago for a reason.”

Her words stung.

For Katya and others who grew up under Soviet rule, these relics weren’t just statues, they were symbols of a regime that dictated their lives.

My treasure hunt probably felt like someone in the U.S. searching for Depression-era breadlines.

When I explained my fascination, how growing up during the Cold War made these relics feel like puzzle pieces to a story I’d only seen on screens, her amusement shifted to curiosity.

She nodded, though with a smirk. “You’re probably the only person in Kyiv who misses Stalin.”

She wasn’t wrong.

But as I passed an old, chipped bust of some long-forgotten Soviet hero, I wondered: Could we preserve history without keeping its ghosts alive? 

Then came the tank, an absurd find that had me laughing in an overgrown field.

6. The Soviet Tank That Wasn’t Quite What It Seemed

One afternoon on the outskirts of Kyiv, I spotted what I thought was the ultimate Soviet relic! 

A tank, its faded green paint still marked with a faint red star. 

My heart raced, this was the raw, unfiltered history I’d been searching for.

Until I got closer. That’s when I noticed the wheels. Yes, wheels!

The “tank” was a hollowed-out movie prop, complete with rubber tires.

It looked like someone had looted a film set and left it here to rust.

A nearby kid on a bike shouted, “It’s fake! They used it for some old movie. Nobody knows how to tow it.”

I laughed. This once-mighty symbol of power had become a forgotten roadside oddity.

Yet, the more I thought about it, the more this fake tank felt like a perfect metaphor for my journey: the Soviet past hadn’t vanished, it had been repurposed, reframed, and left to decay.

But my scavenger hunt wasn’t over. 

One question still lingered: Should these relics be saved, or is history better left to fade into memory?

7. Should They Save These Relics, or Let Them Rust?

As I explored Kyiv and beyond, one question stayed with me: how do you handle a history no one wants to relive?

These statues and murals weren’t just relics, they were painful reminders of a regime that suppressed identity and erased individuality.

This isn’t just Ukraine’s dilemma. In the U.S., debates over Confederate statues mirror the same tension: are they cultural artifacts or symbols of oppression?

The challenge is universal, how do we remember the past without glorifying it?

What if we struck a balance?

Thoughtful museums or augmented reality apps could recreate these relics, letting us learn from the past without letting it dominate the present.

Because history doesn’t disappear when we hide it. It lingers in the stories we tell and the lessons we take forward.

Maybe these relics could teach us more if we stopped burying them.

The Fine Line Between Remembering History and Letting It Go

My hunt for Soviet relics wasn’t just about statues or murals, it was about the stories they told, the people who lived through them, and the delicate balance between remembering the past and moving on.

This isn’t just Ukraine’s struggle. From Confederate statues in the U.S. to colonial monuments in Europe, societies everywhere face the same question: should these relics be preserved, erased, or left to fade away?

The real challenge isn’t where these symbols belong, it’s how to preserve their lessons without glorifying their legacy.

What do you think?

Should these relics be saved for curious travelers or left to history’s shadows? 

The post Chasing Lenin! 7 Discoveries From My Twisted Treasure Hunt For Soviet Relics In Ukraine & Georgia appeared first on Expats Planet.

From epic toasts to cheeky kisses and firm handshakes, these customs turned awkward moments into lifelong memories and true bonds.

Recently, I wrote an article about how Americans often use “How are you?” more as a casual hello than a genuine inquiry.

Then, it dawned on me: greetings are so much more than polite gestures, they’re a doorway into the soul of a culture.

With that realization, I took a trip back down memory lane, revisiting the many fascinating ways people greet each other in the places I’ve lived, worked and traveled.

Each memory, like a snapshot, shows how connection goes way beyond words.

What I found was nothing short of astonishing.

First Stop, Bonjour! Discover why French greetings had me accidentally kissing a stranger’s ear.

Oui, it happened.

1. France: Kissing on the Cheek, But Make It a Puzzle

On my first trip to a small town in France, I was ready for croissants, cobblestones, and cultural charm.

What I wasn’t ready for was “La Bise”. Introduced to a beautiful young woman by a group of locals I’d just met, I braced myself for what I thought would be a simple cheek kiss.

But wait, was it one kiss? Two? Three? I froze mid-motion, unsure whether to lean left or right.

Spoiler alert: I leaned the wrong way and ended up kissing thin air while everyone laughed kindly at my awkwardness.

Here’s the kicker: the number of kisses varies not only by region but also by time.

Back in the early nineties when I visited, it was fashionable in some places to give three, even four kisses, one for each side, twice over.

And that’s not all. In France, men don’t typically exchange cheek kisses with each other, unless they’re family or very close friends.

I experienced this shift personally over the years.

After visiting the same small town multiple times and staying with a good friend for a couple of months, something changed.

One day, I realized I was kissing just as many men on the cheeks as women.

It was a sign of something deeper, friendships had grown, and I’d gone from being a visitor to being part of the circle.

With every return, the greetings grew warmer, the gestures more familiar.

By then, I wasn’t just awkwardly fumbling my way around with “La Bise”, I was embracing it.

Moral of the story? Brush up on your local kissing etiquette before you go.

And if you’re lucky, you might just find that over time, those gestures of greeting become expressions of belonging.

Ah, vive la France!

Up next: Think a handshake is just a formality? In Ukraine, it’s a test of character. 

2. Ukraine: A Handshake That Means Business

When I first started teaching English in Ukraine, one curious ritual immediately caught my attention.

Every time a male student entered the classroom, he would go around and shake the hand of every other male student present.

It didn’t matter if they were teenagers or full grown adults, the gesture was carried out with a seriousness that left me both intrigued and amused.

It was my first glimpse into how deeply ingrained the handshake is in Ukrainian culture.

Over the 20 years I lived in Ukraine, I saw this ritual play out everywhere, from classrooms to business meetings.

A handshake in Ukraine isn’t just a formality, it’s a declaration. I learned this lesson early on when greeting a new local acquaintance.

My handshake, which I thought was firm enough, didn’t quite pass muster.

“Anything less,” he explained with a wry smile, “and people might think you’re insincere.” The grip must be strong, the eye contact steady, and the demeanor serious.

Smiling too much during these first greetings is also uncommon and can be interpreted as overly casual or even disingenuous.

Ukrainians tend to approach first greetings with tinge of stoicism and respect.

But after the formalities are over, whether in a classroom, a meeting, or over a warm bowl of borscht, their genuine warmth quickly comes to the surface.

That’s the beauty of Ukraine: a handshake that commands respect, it means something. It’s also paired with a depth of kindness that makes you feel truly welcome.

Hint: Georgia’s toasting culture will make you rethink greetings altogether.

3. Georgia (The Country): A Toast to Greetings

When I first visited Tbilisi, I thought I understood Georgian hospitality, until a simple handshake and a polite “gamarjoba” turned into a feast.

Within minutes, I was seated at a long table, surrounded by strangers-turned-friends, as plates of khachapuri and hearty stews seemed to appear endlessly.

Then came the toasts, led by the “tamada”, the toastmaster, whose poetic speeches celebrated family, friendship, and guests who were now family.

With every raised glass of wine, and eventually “chacha”, the warmth of Georgian culture became unmistakable.

By the end of the night, I wasn’t just a visitor, I belonged.

Keep reading to discover how Italians turn greetings into an art form.

4. Italy: The Art of the Double Cheek Kiss

When I traveled to northern Italy to research my family tree, I quickly learned that Italian greetings are as diverse as their regional cuisines.

In a small village nestled near the foothills of the Italian Alps, a kind local family who had generously offered to help me track down records explained their customs to me over a light family meal.

“Here in the north,” the father said with a smile, “we’re a little more reserved.

“A handshake is common, even among friends, unless you’re close, then maybe a kiss on each cheek.”

That sentiment was worlds apart from what I’d heard about southern Italy, where greetings are famously exuberant.

There, a double cheek kiss is practically mandatory among friends and family, and even new acquaintances might receive one after a warm introduction.

I couldn’t help but imagine myself flustered in the south, navigating which cheek to kiss first (always the right) and praying I didn’t accidentally headbutt someone in the process.

Even in professional settings, the differences were clear. In the north, a firm handshake suffices.

In the south, however, a handshake might quickly lead to a hearty pat on the back or even a cheek kiss if the meeting turns friendly.

The family I spoke to chuckled at my amazement. “You see,” they said, “our greetings are like our people, different, but all with the same heart.”

Italy truly is a land where even a simple “hello” comes with a story.

Ready for some all-American charm? The USA’s greeting spectrum will keep you guessing.

5. USA: Waves, Handshakes, Fist Bumps and a Whole Lot of “Hey!”

Greetings in the USA are as diverse as the culture itself. From a casual wave or fist bump and “Hey, how’s it going?” to a firm handshake in professional settings, there’s no one-size-fits-all.

A British friend once joked that Americans are “the only people who can make a question a greeting and not expect an answer.”

Believe it or not. After being abroad for over 25 years, I fumble this one too. Like the “fist bump”. 

When did people start doing this?

When is this even appropriate?

Flexibility is key when navigating the variety of greetings across the country. Even when it’s your own.

Greetings Speak Louder Than Words

Traveling is about more than seeing new places, it’s about connecting with people, and nothing sets the tone like a greeting.

From cheek kisses to firm stoic handshakes and toasts, each culture offers a unique insight into its values and traditions.

So, next time you travel, pay attention to how people say hello.

It’s the first step toward understanding their world, and maybe even mastering the art of not embarrassing yourself.

The post 5 Greetings And Traditions I Fumbled As An Expat & The Lessons They Taught Me appeared first on Expats Planet.

War-zone travel is not the adventure influencers portray, it’s fraught with risks and hard lessons.

Here’s my personal journey and what I wish others would know before they go.

1. A Front-Row Seat to Turmoil

Imagine walking through a city where tension hums in the air and every face carries the weight of survival.

When I first set foot in Ukraine in 1998, I had gone with a French humanitarian group I had joined back in France with the best intentions.

But it soon became clear that the “president” of this “association” might have had ulterior motives. But that’s a story for another time…

Despite the complications, the trip changed my life: I fell in love and eventually returned to Ukraine to be with her a year later, gaining a crash course in navigating a nation grappling with its post-Soviet identity.

My journey through Ukraine spanned decades and revolutions, from the Orange Revolution in 2004 to the Euromaidan protests in 2014.

Along the way, I lived in cities like Donetsk and Kyiv, each with its own story of resilience and turmoil.

What I learned about conflict zones wasn’t from YouTube videos or social media, it came from being there, watching history unfold, and realizing how little my presence truly mattered in the grand scheme of things.

In this article, I’ll share the harsh truths of traveling to conflict zones, the ethical dilemmas I faced, and the lessons I’ve learned about supporting these regions without becoming a burden on them.

2. The Allure of “Dangerous Destinations”

For some travelers, the appeal of conflict zones lies in their raw, unfiltered reality.

These places offer a raw glimpse of history, untouched by commercial tourism.

I didn’t go to Ukraine seeking adventure, I went on what I thought was a humanitarian mission, but I came to understand the allure these types of places hold for others.

When I moved to Donetsk in 2004, I thought I was stepping into a world of rough and raw cultural exchange.

Instead, I within a few months, found myself navigating a city simmering with pro-Russian sentiment while Kyiv erupted in protests that were pro-western.

Walking through Donetsk felt like threading a needle through a political storm I couldn’t control or fully understand.

My American identity wasn’t a shield, it was a vulnerability. It often made me feel like an uninvited observer in someone else’s deeply personal fight for what they believed in.

Later, during the Euromaidan protests in 2014, I witnessed another kind of tension in Kyiv.

The square was alive with hope and defiance, yet there were corners I avoided, makeshift quarters of extremist groups whose icy glares reminded me that not all Westerners were welcomed with open arms.

3. The Hidden Costs of War-Zone Tourism

My time in Ukraine taught me that visiting conflict zones, even unplanned ones, isn’t just about witnessing history, it’s about grappling with the unintended consequences of your presence.

During the Euromaidan protests, I saw tourists and expats treating Maidan square like a spectacle.

They snapped selfies against barricades, ignoring the gravity of the sacrifices being made around them.

It was a sobering reminder that even well-meaning expats and travelers can inadvertently exploit the very struggles they seek to understand.

In moments like these, I couldn’t help but wonder: Were these people doing more harm than good? 

By being there, were they amplifying their own story or merely consuming it for their own benefit? 

These questions became impossible to ignore, shaping my thoughts about travel in conflict zones from that point forward.

4. Lessons from My Time in Conflict Zones

Traveling, or living in a conflict zone is not for the faint of heart. It’s definitely not a smart move if you can avoid it.

Here’s what my experiences taught me about navigating these complex environments:

1. Stay Neutral, Stay Respectful
As a foreigner, I always saw myself as a guest. During the Euro-Maidan Uprising, I avoided joining protests (unlike many foreigners there at the time) or engaging in political discussions, especially with locals. It wasn’t my battle to fight, and my presence didn’t entitle me to a voice in their struggle either.

2. Understand the Stakes
Before you step foot in a conflict zone, you need to do your homework. The revolutions I witnessed weren’t just political, they were deeply personal struggles for the people living through them. If you don’t understand the context, you risk trivializing their pain.

3. Don’t Be a Burden
During the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, I considered returning to help. But I realized I lacked the skills to contribute meaningfully. Without expertise in medical aid, logistics or military skills, I’d have been another mouth to feed. Another liability in an already strained system.

4. Avoid Voyeurism
War tourism, where travelers flock to conflict zones for the thrill of danger, disrespects the gravity of the situation. The lives at stake are not entertainment, and treating them as such diminishes the humanity of those involved.

5. How to Support Conflict Zones Without Stepping Into Harm’s Way

After decades of navigating conflict zones and reflecting on my experiences, I’ve come to believe that the best way to help often doesn’t involve being there.

Here are practical steps you can take to make a real difference:

1. Donate Smartly
Your money matters when it’s directed to trusted NGOs and local groups providing essentials like medical care, food, and housing. Research transparency and make sure your donation empowers the people who need it most.

2. Buy Local
Support artisans and businesses in conflict zones by shopping directly through online marketplaces or fair-trade partners. Your purchases help people rebuild their lives.

3. Amplify Stories Responsibly
Use your platform to highlight the realities of conflict, but focus on local voices and verified facts. Skip the self-centered posts and avoid sensationalism.

4. Help Refugees at Home
Refugees need support wherever they land. Offer your time through mentorship, language lessons, or donation drives in your community.

5. Push for Policy Change
Advocate for peace and humanitarian efforts. Write to your representatives, support campaigns for refugee rights, and join global movements for justice.

6. Get Educated
Don’t act without understanding. Read up on the history, follow local journalists, and listen to those directly affected. Informed action is powerful action.

Sometimes, the most impactful thing you can do is stay out of the way while supporting from a distance.

6. The Emotional and Ethical Cost of Being a Witness

One of the hardest lessons I’ve learned is that not every story needs your participation.

There’s a fine line between bearing witness to history and intruding on someone else’s struggle.

During my time in Ukraine, I often felt like I was walking that line. At its best, my presence offered solidarity with the people I lived among.

At its worst, I questioned whether I was contributing anything meaningful, or simply observing their pain from the sidelines.

When war broke out in 2022, I knew I had to make a choice: to return or to help from afar.

I chose the latter, recognizing that my skills and resources could make a bigger difference when directed thoughtfully.

It wasn’t the heroic story I’d once imagined, but it was the right decision for me, and for those I wanted to support.

7. Why Conflict Zones Aren’t the Adventure You’re Seeking

For those tempted by the allure of conflict zones, let me offer this: the risks and consequences far outweigh the thrill.

Beyond the personal dangers: injury, arrest, or worse, there’s the emotional toll of witnessing trauma firsthand.

More importantly, conflict zones aren’t a stage for your personal narrative. If you need to reinvent yourself, or become more interesting, conflict zones aren’t the places to do that.

The lives at stake, the struggles unfolding, and the histories being written are deeply personal to the people living them.

Your role as a traveler isn’t to be part of the story, it’s to respect it from a distance and support it in meaningful, unobtrusive ways.

The Truth About Conflict Zone Travel: It’s Time to Rethink the Journey

Traveling to conflict zones is a decision that demands reflection, humility, and caution.

While the idea of being a witness to history might feel noble, the reality is often fraught with ethical dilemmas and unintended consequences.

Instead of chasing danger, focus on how you can uplift and empower those living through conflict.

Whether it’s through donations, advocacy, or thoughtful consumption, you can make a lasting impact without stepping into harm’s way.

Is there’s ever a right way to visit a conflict zone?

The post 7 Dangerous Truths About Conflict Zone Tourism That Will Change The Way You Travel appeared first on Expats Planet.