If you’ve tried to plan a European summer lately, you’ve probably felt it: the places we all dream about are buckling under the weight of us.

In 2026, that’s not just a vibe — it’s policy. Barcelona is phasing out every one of its roughly 10,000 short-term tourist rental licenses by 2028 to give homes back to residents. Venice now charges day-trippers a €5 access fee (which doubles to €10 if you don’t register ahead) on 60 of its busiest days. Amsterdam has capped overnight stays at 20 million a year and is closing its central cruise terminal. City after city is saying, gently but firmly: we love that you want to come, but not like this.

If you want a vivid, human look at what this actually feels like on the ground, watch the trailer for The Siege of Paradise — a documentary premiering at the 2026 Tribeca Festival about Italy’s Cinque Terre, where fewer than 3,000 locals host more than 4 million tourists every summer. It captures the overtourism squeeze better than any statistic I could give you.

I don’t share this to guilt anyone out of travel — travel changed my life, and I’ll never stop believing in it. But part of traveling responsibly is paying attention to where our footprints land. When ten thousand of us crowd the same three streets in Venice, we drive up rents, push out locals, and trample the very thing we came to see. The good news? Europe is enormous, and some of its most beautiful corners are begging for visitors who’ll show up with respect and curiosity.

Here are seven swaps I’d make in a heartbeat.

1. Ljubljana, Slovenia — instead of Venice or Amsterdam

If you want canals, café culture, and storybook architecture without the selfie-stick gridlock, Slovenia’s capital is the answer. Ljubljana was named a European Green Capital for good reason: its entire old town is car-free, it’s wrapped in green space, and it’s small enough to explore entirely on foot. You get the romance of a European city center with room to actually breathe — and a fraction of the crowds you’ll fight in Venice, just a few hours south.

2. Granada & the Andalusian hills — instead of Barcelona

This one’s personal. When I visited the Alhambra in Granada, I almost spent the whole trip in the city — until I took a bus up into the Sierra Nevada and stayed in a tiny village called Quéntar. Waking up to mountain air and locals making coffee felt like the opposite of a tourist trap. Barcelona is wonderful, but it’s also ground zero for Spain’s overtourism backlash. Granada gives you jaw-dropping Moorish history and an easy escape into villages where your money actually stays in the community.

3. The Azores, Portugal — instead of the crowded Mediterranean islands

Want islands without the cruise-ship crush? This volcanic Portuguese archipelago became the first EarthCheck-certified archipelago in the world and regularly tops sustainable-destination rankings. Think geothermal hot springs, whale watching, hydrangea-lined craters, and a tourism model built around small, community-run experiences. It’s the rare “bucket list” place that’s actively designed not to be loved to death.

4. Tallinn, Estonia — instead of Prague

Prague’s medieval old town is magic, and also completely overwhelmed. Tallinn offers the same fairytale spires, cobblestones, and cozy cafés — plus a genuinely walkable, affordable, tech-forward city that’s leaning hard into sustainability beyond its capital. You’ll spend less, queue less, and meet more locals than tourists.

5. Ghent, Belgium — instead of Bruges

Bruges is so picturesque it’s practically a theme park now. Ghent, just down the road, has the same canals and Flemish gables but a living, student-energy heartbeat — markets, street art, and restaurants that locals actually eat in. It’s proof that the “second city” is often the better one.

6. Porto, Portugal — instead of Lisbon

Lisbon’s popularity has driven the same housing and crowd pressures hitting Barcelona. Porto delivers the tiled facades, riverside charm, and (let’s be honest) the wine, with a slower, more soulful pace. Bonus: it’s a fantastic base for slow, flight-free travel onward into northern Portugal.

7. Albania’s coast — with a responsible-travel caveat

The Albanian Riviera is the Balkans’ worst-kept secret, with turquoise water at a fraction of Croatia’s prices. I’m including it with a flag: arrivals jumped to nearly 12 million in 2025, so the “undiscovered” window is closing fast. If you go, go gently — choose locally owned guesthouses, travel outside peak weeks, and be the kind of early visitor who helps a place grow well rather than repeat the mistakes of its neighbors.

How to actually travel these places responsibly

Choosing a less-crowded destination is step one. How you travel once you’re there matters just as much:

Go in shoulder season. Spring and autumn ease the strain on locals, slash your costs, and honestly make for a better trip. Nobody enjoys a packed July.

Stay longer in fewer places. “Slow travel” isn’t just a buzzword — fewer transit legs means a smaller carbon footprint and a deeper connection to where you are. Trade the seven-cities-in-ten-days sprint for a week somewhere that earns it.

Go rail-first. A train emits roughly five times less CO₂ per passenger than a flight — the London-to-Paris trip is about 22 kg of carbon by train versus around 244 kg by plane. Europe’s night-train network is expanding in 2026, with new sleeper routes making flight-free travel genuinely comfortable. (If you’ve got a layover on the way in, here’s my Frankfurt layover guide for making the most of it.)

Spend local. Family-run guesthouses over international chains, neighborhood restaurants over tourist-strip menus, artisan souvenirs over mass-produced fridge magnets. This is the single most powerful thing you can do — it keeps your money in the community instead of siphoning it out.

Budget for the tourist tax, and pre-register where you can. Many cities now charge a nightly tax, and Venice’s day fee is cheaper if you book ahead. Read the rules before you go so you’re not caught off guard.

Pack light and low-waste. A refillable water bottle (tap water is safe across most of Europe), a tote, and solid toiletries cover most of it. If you want the full rundown, I broke it down in 7 easy ways to travel more sustainably.

The real takeaway

Overtourism isn’t a reason to stop traveling Europe — it’s an invitation to travel it differently. The continent is so much bigger than its dozen most-photographed spots, and the places just off the well-worn path are often warmer, cheaper, and more alive precisely because they haven’t been overrun.

Skip the crowd. Go where you’re genuinely wanted. That’s not a downgrade — it’s the upgrade.

Where would you swap? Tell me the underrated European spot you’d send people to instead — I’m always building my list.