The German hotel that banned Nutella — and what it reveals about green travel’s biggest problem
If you’re a guest at the Villa Orange in Frankfurt, Germany, you may have one question at breakfast: “Where’s the Nutella?”
A feature about sustainable and authentic destinations around the world.
If you’re a guest at the Villa Orange in Frankfurt, Germany, you may have one question at breakfast: “Where’s the Nutella?”
When Paul Avron’s daughter buys Coldplay tickets from StubHub, she expects a memorable night out. But as the concert approaches, the tickets still haven’t arrived, and StubHub’s FanProtect guarantee doesn’t work. Can she get her money back?
From the top floor of Dock Inn, a hotel made of shipping containers with a commanding view of the harbor and dockyards, you might see a ferry bound for Sweden sliding silently by in the distance. Beyond it, there are the dense forests of the Steilküste, a coastline with steep cliffs plunging into a cold sea.
The Baltic Sea islands of Rügen and Usedom are known for their serenity — those quiet postcard-perfect days during the summer when the calm ocean waters reflect a cloudless sky. But this part of northern Germany, a long-cherished vacation spot for Europeans, also has its secrets.
Germany’s Spree Forest region, with its serene labyrinth of waterways, forests, and meadows, feels both ancient and forward-thinking at the same time. And that’s intentional.
The air grows heavy as you ascend the narrow, winding staircase of the Vogelsang-Turm, an observation tower with commanding views of Urftsee and Eifel National Park in western Germany.
The Four Seasons Seoul has embarked on an ambitious project to become more sustainable.
The turquoise water lapping against Okinawa’s pebbled beach is so clear that you can see an occasional parrotfish streaking by. Just behind it, the Hoshinoya Okinawa’s low-slung modernist villas blend into a landscape of gnarled fukugi trees and hibiscus.
When Daniel Anderson stepped off an electric ferry in Oslo, he braced for the usual urban cacophony. It never came.
The first time you hear Für Elise from the street below, you might think it’s an ice cream truck. But in the Taipei twilight, a different kind of vehicle is rolling down the road – it’s a garbage truck playing that catchy classic.