There’s a particular kind of traveller who insists they “don’t do touristy”—while quietly bookmarking the Amalfi Coast for August. We get it, the icons are iconic for a reason. But as overtourism tightens its grip on the world’s most photogenic corners, the real luxury is no longer access, it’s space. Here’s where to redirect your wanderlust—same beauty, fewer selfie sticks.
Instead of the Amalfi Coast, try the Cilento Coast – or Puglia’s sunny shores
The candy-coloured drama of the Amalfi Coast remains irresistible: vertiginous roads, lemon groves, impossibly blue Tyrrhenian waters. But in peak season, Positano can feel jam-packed and overwhelming.
Two hours south lies its quieter sibling: the Cilento Coast. Wilder, less coiffed, and refreshingly underplayed, this stretch of Campania is all pine forests, ancient Greek ruins, and family-run trattorias where menus haven’t been translated for Instagram. Base yourself in the honey-hued fishing village of Santa Maria di Castellabate and spend your days swimming off rocky platforms and driving empty coastal roads that feel like the Amalfi of decades past.
Or pivot east to Puglia, where the beaches are among the most dazzling in the country. Along the Salento peninsula, the Adriatic shifts from deep cobalt to impossible turquoise. At Pescoluse and Torre dell’Orso, sand is pale and fine, the water Caribbean-clear. Inland, whitewashed towns and trulli houses add architectural charm without the vertigo-inducing cliff roads.
Instead of touristy Santorini, try Folegandros
Yes, the sunsets over Santorini are the stuff of screensavers. But there are also cruise ships docking by the dozen. Swap the caldera crowds for the pared-back beauty of Folegandros.
Equally whitewashed, similarly cinematic, yet blissfully resistant to excess, this Cycladic island majors on simplicity: bougainvillaea-draped lanes, cliff-edge churches, and tavernas where tables spill onto quiet squares. There are no headline-grabbing infinity pools here—just translucent coves and a kind of hush that feels increasingly rare in the Aegean.
Instead of crowded Venice, try Trieste
Few places rival the romance of Venice—but few are as persistently crowded. The lagoon city has become shorthand for overtourism, particularly around St Mark’s and the Rialto.
For faded grandeur without the human traffic jam, head north-east to Trieste. Once the Habsburg Empire’s seaport, Trieste is all neoclassical façades, literary cafés, and Adriatic light. There are grand piazzas that open straight onto the sea and a cultured, Mitteleuropean air that feels closer to Vienna than Verona. You won’t find gondolas, but you will find space to linger over espresso without jostling for elbow room.
Instead of the popular Blue Lagoon, try Laugarás Lagoon
The touristy waters of Iceland’s Blue Lagoon have become an almost compulsory stopover photo op—efficient, polished, and firmly on the tour-bus circuit.
For a more intimate immersion, steer inland to Laugarás Lagoon. Set beside the gently flowing Hvítá river in the Golden Circle region, this newer geothermal retreat pairs minimalist Nordic design with wide-open countryside views.
Steam rises against snow-dusted fields, and the atmosphere is hushed rather than high-volume. There are saunas, cold plunges, and swim-up bars, yes—but without the conveyor-belt feel. It’s Icelandic bathing culture reimagined with breathing room. The vibe: Geothermal glamour, minus the coach parties.
The Takeaway
The point isn’t to shun the greats entirely. It’s to sidestep the bottlenecks and to seek out places that still feel like discoveries rather than backdrops. In 2026, the new status symbol isn’t the most photographed hotel terrace. It’s knowing where to go instead.
