Europe is revolting against the tourist invasion. This summer, Venice has started charging a tourist tax to keep visitors at bay. Mallorca, Menorca, Ibiza and Formentera have just set up inter-island protests under the slogan, ‘Let’s change course – let’s set limits to tourism’. Barcelona is planning to ban Airbnb. In the Cinque Terre, on the Italian Riviera, some of the coastline is now one-way, to restrict tourist traffic. On another bit of the Ligurian coast, plans are afoot to charge walkers. You can see why – the famous cities and resorts of Europe have become one vast Queueworld, where tourists gather in great numbers, intense heat – and, increasingly, intense misery.
If you haven’t, you must visit, say, the ancient Greek cities of Ephesus and Pergamon
So why not head for the empty places of Europe? Every single one of those overcrowded hotspots has a neighbouring city or beach that hasn’t been promoted by history or reputation – and so is blissfully tourist-free. Europe isn’t overrun – as long as you do a little research, flee from fashion and find the right safe haven. Last year, instead of visiting tourist-choked Venice, I went to Treviso – only half an hour from Venice on the train. It was a revelation – particularly the Romanesque church of San Francesco and the austerely elegant Loggia dei Cavalieri. Treviso even has its own canals – if not on the scale of Venice’s, they had the advantage of being empty. There were plenty of Italians around in the charming, cheap pizzerias – but the only annoying tourist I came across was me.
A quick look at a map of Europe – and at a guidebook – produces these quiet spots in every corner of the continent. Don’t visit Athens now, when the temperature’s hitting 100 – and they’ve had to close the Parthenon to the mad dogs and Englishmen who go there at this time of year. Go in spring or, even better, autumn – when the sea is still warm, and the crowds ease off. But why not track down an ancient Greek treasure that’s empty all year round? Like Messene, in the Peloponnese, my favourite ancient Greek city – with temples, an agora, a stadium and mighty walls, stretching along the floor of an enchanted valley. Every time I’ve visited, there have never been more than 20 tourists. And it’s only 15 miles from Kalamata Airport – again practically empty, despite having direct flights to Britain.
In your quest for quiet places, you’ll find many more if you’re prepared not to take a direct flight. So Mykonos, the once-enchanting Cycladic island, has been battered by mass tourism because of its airport. Well, in fact, only the main town on Mykonos has been tourist-blighted. Hire a moped, as I did last year, point it away from Mykonos town and you’ll find a quiet beach less than half an hour away. But, if you’re prepared to take a ferry to an island without an airport, the quiet spots start popping up everywhere. In two recent trips to airport-free Ithaca, I had Odysseus’s ancient palace all to myself.
If you’re braver than me, you’ll use geopolitical tragedies to boost your quiet spot count. A cynical friend of mine bases his holidays in places that have recently suffered terrible tragedies – like, say, tourist-free Jerusalem and Kyiv. If you’re really clever with your planning, you’ll find quiet spots in the same city as the tourist hotspots. Don’t go to hellishly overcrowded Piazza della Signoria in Florence. Cross the Arno to the shaded, empty streets of San Niccolò. If you must go to Venice, don’t get off the vaporetto at St Mark’s Square, but stay on all the way to the deserted island of Torcello at the northern end of the lagoon. You can play the Quiet Spot Game for the rest of your life, particularly if you’ve already seen the greatest hits of European architecture.
If you haven’t, you must visit, say, the ancient Greek cities of Ephesus and Pergamon – but save them for the last hours of opening at the end of the day, when the tourist buses have pushed off. During the day, go instead to the deserted ancient Greek cities of inland Turkey – like bewitching Aphrodisias in Anatolia, only 60 miles from the coast. The same goes for Knossos, Crete. Do see King Minos’s city if you haven’t before. But I bet you’ll be more moved by other Minoan sites on Crete – empty Phaistos and Gortyn.
You can play the Quiet Spot Game in the United Kingdom and Ireland, too. I spent the last two weekends in Ireland and Northern Ireland. Sunny Dublin was crammed with international tourists, from O’Connell Street to Trinity College, from Grafton Street to St Stephen’s Green. I fled to County Westmeath and County Down – where I didn’t see a single tourist in eight days. I’ll be spending much of this summer in Pembrokeshire, where I’ve been going all my life. Since Covid, when thousands of new tourists discovered its delights, it’s been busier than I’ve seen it in 50 years. But I know two hidden beaches that are always empty at the height of summer. It’s partly because they can be slightly dangerous – one has sharp rocks that are concealed at high tide; the other involves a tricky, steep climb. But, still, it’s perfectly safe, once you’ve worked out the right route and the right time of day to get to xxxxxxx Bay and xxxxxxx Bay. You didn’t think I was going to tell you their names, did you? That’s the first rule of Quiet Spot Club – never reveal your favourite ones.
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