The Temporary European: Lessons and Confessions of a Professional Traveler

by Cameron Hewitt

Overview

Write guidebooks, make travel TV, lead bus tours? Cameron Hewitt has been Rick Steves’ right hand for more than 20 years, doing just that.

The Temporary European is a collection of vivid, entertaining travel tales from across Europe. Cameron zips you into his backpack for engaging and inspiring experiences: sampling spleen sandwiches at a Palermo street market; hiking alone with the cows high in the Swiss Alps; simmering in Budapest’s thermal baths; trekking across an English moor to a stone circle; hand-rolling pasta at a Tuscan agriturismo; shivering through Highland games in a soggy Scottish village; and much more.

Along the way, Cameron introduces us to his favorite Europeans. In Mostar, Alma demonstrates how Bosnian coffee isn’t just a drink, but a social ritual. In France, Mathilde explains that the true mastery of a fromager isn’t making cheese, but aging it. In Spain, Fran proudly eats acorns, but never corn on the cob.

While personal, the stories also tap into the universal joy of travel. Cameron’s travel motto (inspired by a globetrotting auntie) is "Jams Are Fun"—the fondest memories arrive when your best-laid plans go sideways. And he encourages travelers to stow their phones and guidebooks, slow down, and savor those magic moments that arrive between stops on a busy itinerary.

The stories are packed with inspiration and insights for your next trip, including how to find the best gelato in Italy, how to select the best produce at a Provençal market, how to navigate Spain’s confusing tapas scene, and how to survive the experience of driving in Sicily (hint: just go numb).

And you’ll get a reality check for every traveler’s "dream job": researching and writing guidebooks; guiding busloads of Americans on tours around Europe; scouting and producing a travel TV show; and working with Rick Steves and his merry band of travelers. It’s a candid account of how the sausage gets made in the travel business—told with warts-and-all honesty and a sense of humor.

For Rick Steves fans, or anyone who loves Europe, The Temporary European is inspiring, insightful, and fun.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781609522049
Publisher:	Travelers' Tales Guides, Incorporated
Publication date:	02/01/2022
Pages:	384
Sales rank:	417,351
Product dimensions:	5.20(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.90(d)
Age Range:	16 Years

About the Author

Cameron Hewitt moved from Ohio to Seattle in 2000 to help Rick Steves research and write America’s bestselling guidebooks. Cameron has traveled to and written about more than 35 European countries, coauthoring books on Croatia, Budapest, Iceland, Scotland, Greece, Berlin, and more. Cameron also guides Rick Steves tours in Europe; contributes to Rick’s television series and radio program; regularly presents travel talks; and blogs about his travels at www.cameronhewitt.com. He writes with a deep passion for travel, keen cultural insight, and a sense of humor. Cameron married his high school sweetheart and favorite travel partner, Shawna, and lives in Seattle, Washington.

Read an Excerpt

PREFACE

One morning in Mostar, I met my friend Alma for coffee. Not just coffee—Bosnian coffee. Alma greeted me with her customary, exaggerated warmth: “Aaaaah, Cah-meh-ron! So goooood to see you, my old friend!”

I first met Alma years ago, when I was leading a tour in Bosnia and she was our local guide. She has a painful personal history and a huge heart, two things that seem to go together. Alma and her husband were living in Mostar with their toddler on May 9, 1992, when they were rocked awake by artillery shells raining down from the mountaintop. They persevered through the next few years as bombardment, siege, and street-by-street warfare ripped their city apart.

“Alma” means benevolent, soulful, wise. And Alma is all of these things in abundance. Anyone who meets her is struck by both her generosity of spirit and her forthrightness. Alma speaks her mind in the way of someone who knows mortal danger firsthand and no longer worries with niceties. And she has mastered the art of giving outsiders insight into Bosnian culture.

“Here in Bosnia, we have unfiltered coffee—what you Americans might call ‘Turkish coffee,’” Alma said as we walked. “But it’s not just a drink. It’s a social ritual. A way of life.”

We made our way through Mostar toward a café. The streets were cobbled with river stones—round as tennis balls and polished like marble—that threatened to turn our ankles with each step. Finally we reached a cozy caravanserai courtyard that felt very close to the Ottoman trading outpost that Mostar once was.

We settled in at a low table, and the coffee arrived: a small copper tray, hand-hammered with traditional Bosnian designs. An oblong copper pot, lined with shiny metal and filled with black coffee. A dish containing exactly two Turkish delight candies, dusted with powdered sugar. And two small ceramic cups, wrapped in yet more decorative copper.

The server deliberately poured coffee into each cup. I reached for mine too eagerly. Alma stopped me. “Careful!” she said. “Bosnian coffee punishes those who hurry, with a mouthful of grounds.”

Patiently, Alma explained the procedure—and the philosophy—of Bosnian coffee. “There’s no correct or incorrect way to drink Bosnian coffee. People spend lifetimes perfecting their own ritual. But one thing we agree on is that coffee isn’t just about the caffeine. It’s about relaxing. Being with people you enjoy.”

Alma paused for effect, then took a deliberate sip. Looking deep into my eyes and smiling a relaxed smile, she continued with a rhythmic, mesmerizing cadence: “Talk to your friends. Listen to what they have to say. Learn about their lives. Then take a sip. If your coffee isn’t strong enough, gently swirl your cup. If it’s too strong, just wait. Let it settle. That gives you more time to talk anyway.”

Looking around the courtyard, sparkling with mellow conversation and gentle laughter, Alma said, “This is a good example of merak. Merak is one of those words that you cannot directly translate into English. It means, basically, enjoyment. This relaxed atmosphere among friends. Nursing a cup of coffee with nowhere in particular to be—savoring the simple act of passing the time of day.”

Taking another slow sip, Alma noted that the Bosnian language is rife with these non-translatable words. Another example: raja. “Raja is a sense of being one with a community,” Alma said. “But it also means frowning on anyone who thinks they’re a big shot. It’s humility. Everyone knowing their place, and respecting it.”

But my favorite Bosnian word is ćejf (pronounced “chayf”). Ćejf is that annoying habit you have that drives your loved ones batty. And yet, it gives you pleasure. Not just pleasure; deep satisfaction. In traditional Bosnian culture, ćejf is the way someone spins their worry beads, the way he packs and smokes his pipe, or her exacting procedure for preparing and drinking a cup of coffee.

In American culture, we have ćejf, too. Maybe you have a precise coffee order that tastes just right. (“Twelve-ounce oat milk half-caf latte with one Splenda, extra hot.”) Or every weekend, you feel compelled to wash and detail your car, or bake a batch of cookies, or mow your lawn in tidy diagonal lines, or prune your hedges just so. My own ćejf is the way I tinker with my fantasy football lineup. (Should I start Marvin Jones or Jarvis Landry this week?) Or the way I chew gum when I’m stressed: Extra Polar Ice flavor, always two sticks...never just one.

Americans dismiss this behavior as “fussy” or “O.C.D.” or simply “annoying.” We’re expected to check our ćejf at the door. But in Bosnia, they just shake their head and say, “What are you gonna do? That’s his ćejf.” You don’t have to like someone’s ćejf. But—as long as it’s not hurting anyone—you really ought to accept it. Because everyone has one.

Reaching the bottom of my coffee cup, I noted that the grounds had left no residue at all. “When it’s done properly,” Alma said triumphantly, “you’ll never feel grit between your teeth. If you find a layer of ‘mud’ in the bottom of your cup, it means that someone—either you or the person who made the coffee—was in too much of a hurry.”

Setting down her mudless cup, Alma allowed the silence between us to linger for several long moments. She knew I was in a hurry to get back to work. (I am always in a hurry.) But she was determined to slow me down. We waited. And waited. I sat like a dog with a treat on my nose. My mind began to whirr: Is it easier to be soulful, more at peace with idiosyncrasies, when you’ve survived hardship? Or is this ritual pulling back the curtain on a Muslim worldview?

And then, as if pushing through turbulence on the way to blue skies, I felt myself calming. My pulse abated. I sensed the merak percolating around me. I tuned in to the details flowing in the background behind Alma’s smiling face. It’s the first time that having coffee has slowed me down rather than revved me up.

Finally, sensing my peace, Alma took a deep breath and spoke: “Good. Shall we move on? What’s next?”

Alma is just one of the countless Europeans I’ve gotten to know over more than two decades of exploring Europe. Since 2000, I’ve worked for Rick Steves’ Europe, one of North America’s most respected authorities on travel. For most of that time, I’ve been an editor, researcher, and author of our bestselling guidebook series. And, since we’re a small company, I’ve also guided tours, scouted and produced television shows, and much more. I spend at least three months each year on the road. That’s a grand total of more than five years, over the last twenty, in more than 35 European countries (which—let’s be honest—is more than I once thought Europe even had). Over all that time, I feel that I’ve become a temporary European.

Table of Contents

Foreword Rick Steves xiii

Preface Coffee Çejf xvii

Part 1 The Temporary European

Hey! I'm in Europe! I Kraków, Poland 5

The Permanent Residents of Vacationland | Croatia's Dalmatian Coast 12

The Artisanal Life | Montepulciano, Italy 29

My Travel Origin Story | Europe, 1999 35

Jams Are Fun: When Travel Plans Go Sideways 44

I've Been in Your Hotel Room: A Day in the Life of a Guidebook Writer 53

Part 2 Deconstructing Clichés

Velkomin til Íslands! | Reykjavík, Iceland 79

The Soggy, Sunny Highland Games of Taynuilt | Scottish Highlands 89

D'oh! A Deer! I Salzburg, Austria 96

Loving the French (What's Not to Love?) | France 102

That Wonderful Language Barrier | Europe 105

Jams Are Fun: How to Drive in Sicily: Just Go Numb 114

Like All Things, This Tour Shall Pass: Confessions of a Tour Guide 119

Part 3 Food is Culture

Come On, Have Some Guts | Palermo, Sicily 138

These Pierogi Are Perfect | Kraków, Poland 146

Seven Markets in Seven Days | Provence, France 150

The Trouble with Tapas | Spain 159

Where the World's Food Comes to You | London, England 165

Jams Are Fun: There's a (Gastrointestinal) Bomb on the Bus! 172

Part 4 All Alone; Never Alone

An Introvert in the Land of Extroverts | Italy 181

High in the Mountains with Tina's Dad | Slovenian Alps 184

What Lies Beneath | Dartmoor, Englond 191

Waiting for Luciano's Knock | Val d'Orcia, Italy 199

Acorns and Corncobs: A Semester Abroad | Salamanca, Spain, 1996 206

Jams Are Fun: It's Gonna Be a Noisy Night 215

In Romania, Everything Is (Not) Possible: Making Travel Television 225

Part 5 Meaningful Hedonism

Pistachio Gelato Never Lies | Florence, Italy 247

Making Hay While the Sun Shines | Above Gimmelwald, Switzerland 251

Up to My Earlobes in Hot Water | Budapest, Hungary 261

Ghosts and Skeptics | Great Britain 270

Jams Are Fun: A Rough Day on the North Sea 274

The Merry Band of Travelers: The Cult of Rick Steves 279

Part 6 Changes and Challenges

The Sublime and the Ridiculous | Cinque Terre, Italy 297

One Day I Met Some Refugees | Zagreb, Croatia 313

Blood, Toil, Tears, Sweat, and Surrendering to Brexit | South England 319

Hallstatt Never Changes … Except When It Does | Hallstatt, Austria 327

Jams Are Fun: In Rome, You Can Never Get a Taxi When It Rains 334

Epilogue After the World Changed, a New Hope for Travel; Or: Shutterbugs Miss the Lion 338

Lumpensammler Favorites (and Least Favorites) 350

Acknowledgments 354

About the Author 357