Before becoming a hagiography of Rick Steves (who deserves it, surely) the first part of this essay read like a parody of a New York Times writer who just disco

Before becoming a hagiography of Rick Steves (who deserves it, surely) the first part of this essay read like a parody of a New York Times writer who just discovered there exists a world between the coasts, and that people live different kinds of lives than they do.