Rick Steves’ Next Adventure: Turning 70
The beloved world traveler gets real about getting older
Rick Steves, renowned TV personality and expert of all things Europe, hasn't strayed far from the spotlight. In COVID times he appeared as a reassuring face to remind us that we'd go places again, and in the meantime to think of sheltering-in-place as its own kind of travel. He continues to garner new generations of fans with his spirited social media presence, as well as his vocal marijuana advocacy.

Recently, Steves made headlines for going public about his prostate cancer diagnosis and subsequent announcement that he's now cancer-free. His new book, "On the Hippie Trail," based on his late-'70s journal entries as a "travel writer in training, not even knowing it" traipsing across the famed overland route from Istanbul to Kathmandu, became a New York Times bestseller.
No matter how frank his opinions or familiar his catchphrases — like "A broad worldview is the most important souvenir" — Steves proves to be a font of insights on something that affects all of us all the time: aging.
As the seasoned world traveler approaches 70, he reflects on the realities of getting older, and the ways age does and doesn't seem significant. "I don't think of myself as helping young people or old people travel," Steves, speaking to Next Avenue from his home in the Seattle area, explained. "I'm helping people travel." Even so, "I love that I can be the grown-up hippie that I am and it still works for people."
Next Avenue: Part of the title of your new book is 'The Making of a Travel Writer.' When I'm watching your show, the writing always stands out. Your descriptions and choice of words are so vivid and meticulous. How do you think your writing has evolved since you were journaling on the hippie trail and what makes good travel writing?
Rick Steves: Boy, that's a great question. I've got a strange respect for language and words. I don't like bold. I don't like the word 'very.' I don't underline. I don't put multiple exclamation marks. I just write. I let the words do the work.
I noticed when I wrote my journal when I was 23 years old — this is when I was a piano teacher and I fully expected to be a piano teacher all my life — I was catching the moments. A journal is so important because you can't be a vivid travel writer unless you're actually jotting stuff down in the field. It's like these little butterflies flutter by. They're there, and then another one and another one, but then they're out of your life forever. You can't keep track of them.
"You can't be a vivid travel writer unless you're actually jotting stuff down in the field."
And what I like to do is the equivalent of netting those butterflies and pinning them to a board and just marveling at them and collecting them and finding meaning in them. It's a beautiful thing to take travel experiences and not just say, 'Oh, it was very beautiful,' but make it evocative.
It's like the equivalent of smashed bugs on the journal page. It needs to smell. And that's what I try to do now when I make a TV show. For 30 years I've been making TV shows. I get 3,000 words for a half-hour show. And the art for me is to put as much content in there as possible, but not make it a nonstop stream of information, make it viewable and entertaining. Every word should earn its keep, and every concept should be explained artfully. That's the challenge in writing a good script: for the writing to be finely crafted. It's a fun challenge, to say what you really mean in a way that people can get.
You always seem like you're having fun.
One advantage I've had is that for 25 years, I was a tour guide with a microphone, and I dealt with people's fears and apprehensions in real time on the road. I had to explain things, know what people were confused by. What's their attention span? How many Madonnas and children can a mortal tourist enjoy before they want to cross the street for a Rembrandt?
You see, I love that. So I think that's contributed to my writing style. I try to be conversational. I just want to talk direct. My joy is taking something that's essentially written and reading it again to see if I can fine-tune it. If I have a highfalutin' phrase or word, I go, 'Why is that highfalutin'? Get it out of here.'

You write about how transformative travel can be for young people. What about older people, and what are some of the major ways travel has or hasn't changed for you over the decades?
I want to make this really clear: Age only matters if you're cheese. It's never too late to have a happy childhood. I travel like a kid and I'm 69 years old. I still sit on the floor, I still carry a backpack, I still picnic, I do silly things just to meet people and I love it. It's a blessing. This generation of older travelers, we don't travel like older travelers, but we've got a little more money, we've got a little more wisdom and we are a little less comfortable taking risks. So we travel safer, which is all fine, but you don't want that to put a barrier between you and the vivid, exciting opportunities of traveling.
My market is what I call PBS demographics: It's older, curious people who are young at heart. And for me, the beautiful thing is to equip and inspire Americans to venture beyond Orlando.
"I want to make this really clear: Age only matters if you're cheese."
[Laughs] Say more.
For a lot of Americans, all their life, travel is Orlando, Orlando, Vegas, Cancun, Orlando, Caribbean cruise, Vegas, Reno, Vegas, Orlando again, and it's just not very curious. I mean, you can do that if you want, but travel is an exciting opportunity to get out of your comfort zone — not to avoid culture shock, but to see culture shock as a constructive thing, the growing pains of a broadening perspective.
I love that for me, travel is leaving home and enjoying the fact that I can learn about my home by looking at it from a distance. And I can learn that we are not the norm on this planet and there are plenty of ways to do things. I'm glad I'm an American and I'll do it like an American when I get home, but I've also dabbled in other ways of living and other values, and become a kind of cultural hybrid. And it's more important than ever for older travelers.
What else is important?
The most grueling thing about European travel for older travelers is the heat and the crowds of summer. You've got to be mindful of your mobility and the ravages of climate change. I mean, it is hot where it didn't used to be hot. There's a lot of Italians up in Sweden these days in the middle of summer just because they're escaping the heat. Italy, the Mediterranean, is not comfortable in July and August. There are crowds like never before.
It's critical to be mobile. You need to be; mobility is a function of how light you're traveling and how agile you are as you age. Get it in shape. You don't need to pump iron and get all buff, but you need to be a good walker and you need to stretch. You get old and creaky when you're exercising and you need to counter that by stretching while you're on the road. That's good advice for people any age, but especially older travelers.
You've talked extensively about travel as a political act, and I wonder what that means for you in 2025 when we are dealing with, as you just said, the ravages of climate change and over-tourism — reasons some people are not traveling as a political act.
That's a big issue. I mean, when we travel, we contribute carbon to the atmosphere. It's not good. But I don't want to be flight-shamed out of my travels. I believe we need to travel in a way that minimizes our carbon, but I still fly and travel in a way that broadens my perspective. So when I come home, I step into the voting booth as a citizen of the planet. If you believe in God, if you say suffering across the street matters, but suffering across the sea doesn't, excuse me for being so forward, but you don't know God.
I can't imagine somebody who's traveled a lot and traveled in a thoughtful way would come home and say, 'Let's screw the environment.' That makes no sense. But somebody who has no passport, whose worldview is shaped by commercial TV news, I can understand them saying, 'Wave the flag, who cares what happens south of the border.' When I travel, I know climate change is a drag here in the United States. I want to pay for my carbon and then I want to travel in a way that's transformational, that makes me a better citizen of the planet.
"I believe we need to travel in a way that minimizes our carbon, but I still fly and travel in a way that broadens my perspective."
How do you pay for your carbon?
I invest in farmers in the developing world to take advantage of climate-smart agriculture, to produce more while contributing less carbon to the environment. Farmers in the global south are desperate to feed their kids and have a little left over for the market, but in their desperation, they don't have the luxury of worrying about carbon emissions from their work.
So I invest $30 per person in the tours that I take to Europe, for example, so people know that they have their flight carbon covered. It's nothing heroic, it's nothing to brag about, but science agrees that if you're an American flying from the United States to Europe and back, that creates enough carbon that needs to be addressed.
And by $30 smartly invested, you mitigate that carbon; you're traveling in a carbon-neutral way, at least as far as your flights go. If I was a consumer, I'd think, 'This is really great.' If I was a tour operator, I would want to steal that program and not credit Rick Steves. Fine. I say at right at the top of the Climate Smart page on my website: If you're a tour operator, steal this and get your act together because we've got to start paying for our carbon as we go.
Earlier you said age doesn't matter. But you'll be 70 soon — that's not a big deal?
Every time a decade turns over, you think about it. I think age is a mobile marker. As we get healthier and more active and just as we evolve, we become better at being old. Seventy isn't what it used to be. Being in your 70s now is like being in your 60s; I don't feel like I'm a, what is it, sep … [tuagenarian]. But I do take a moment to consider how I'm doing and 'What am I doing?' Having just had a bout with cancer, it's a reminder that I'm mortal and I've only got so many years on this planet. I'm determined to live a healthy lifestyle.

Motion is lotion: I like that thought. I've got to keep moving. I can do my work as long as I am physically fit to do my work and able to remember what I learn and write it down. But as far as celebrating, my life is kind of strange because birthdays are not a big deal to me at all.
At all?
It's a fault of mine. For a lot of people, birthdays are a big deal and I don't treat them as importantly as I should. Generally I'm all alone in Europe on May 10, my birthday, and I try to keep it a secret. I love it when a whole birthday goes by and nobody even notices it, but usually people find out and spread the word and somebody in that city will ambush me and take me to dinner or something.
But this coming May 10, I'll be 70 years old and I'll be somewhere in Europe and I don't really care when I get home. My girlfriend wants to have a party, which is great. I'm thankful for that, but I'm more thankful just to get a bunch of friends together and celebrate how blessed we are and how beautiful life is. So, I hope to be alone just doing what I love most, learning things in Europe, taking notes and helping other people learn from those so they can travel better.
"Motion is lotion: I like that thought. I've got to keep moving."
What went through your mind when you learned you were cancer-free?
You realize you're not in control. You realize how fragile and precious your health and your life is, and you get very appreciative of the medical technology we have and the expertise we have and all the lessons we've learned from guinea pigs in the past. And they experiment on you for the people in the future. So it's humbling.
I had my operation to get rid of my prostate in October. The surgery was no fun. Then I had to deal with the side effects of prostate cancer, which is mostly incontinence and erectile dysfunction. And then you don't know if the cancer spread until you get your blood test over the next few months.
How'd you stay calm?
I made a pact with myself when I was diagnosed, that fretting about it and getting all depressed and worried is not productive.
I never had symptoms or anything. My new doctor said, 'Let's have a blood test.' I think you've got to know what's going on with your body and [I] said, 'OK, fine.' I had a very high PSA, 55, so not even two days later the conversation shifted from wellness to survival. And then, 'OK, I've got this terrible cancer, but I'm just going to continue living my life.'
[Animal starts howling]
That's my dog, Jackson. [howls back at dog]
[Laughs] I'm quoting him.
Good!
Let's talk about weed. Has your marijuana use changed over the years?
When I was in college, most of my friends smoked pot, but I was just a little, conservative, thoughtful kid who didn't want to smoke because of peer pressure. I wanted to do it in a way where I would feel good about myself the next morning. I was waiting for it to feel right culturally. It's like virginity: you don't want to throw it away sloppily, but you do want to throw it away sooner or later. When I got to Afghanistan, I decided, 'This is the perfect place to lose my marijuana virginity.' Smoking pot in Herat and Kathmandu, then in India, it felt right.
I mean, you'd buy marijuana in the markets; people were sitting around smoking pot like people sitting around here drinking a beer. But it was more than smoking pot. It was a celebration of freedom. It's what you did to be free.
"OK, I've got this terrible cancer, but I'm just going to continue living my life."
Marijuana legalization here is an important issue for you, something you advocate for.
For me, high is a place. If I look back, my most impactful travels have been where my government said I shouldn't go: Nicaragua back in the day, Palestine, Cuba, Iran. Generally, these are great places to travel.
And our [federal] government has a prohibition against marijuana and it's just nonsense. It's a tragic thing for so many reasons: It's racist. It creates a huge black market. It sends a lot of people to jail, and it messes up a lot of lives.
It's not fair: rich, privileged, white people like me, we've got no problem. But poor people and people of color, it can ruin their lives. I don't accept the prohibition against marijuana by our government for responsible adult use, and I'm working very hard to take that down.
Say more about using weed later in life.
I know that the real appeal of marijuana for a lot of older people is the medicinal use for aches and pains, and that's great. But I'm about marijuana as a recreational activity, and I'm all about the civil liberty of smoking pot.
I'm not pro-pot. I'm pro-civil liberties. I'm pro- the idea that 'Yes, I'm a hardworking, taxpaying, churchgoing, kid-raising American citizen. If I work hard all day long and want to go home, smoke a joint and just stare at the fireplace for three hours, that is my civil liberty.' It's a beautiful thing.
So for older people, you're done working, you're still having fun. If you want to be able to giggle at how fun it is to eat a potato chip, if you want to listen to something by the Beatles and hear it like you've never heard it before, hear it with such vividness that you could actually write down, on a score, the instrumentation, you've got the civil liberty to spend some of your retirement afternoons enjoying that little kind of travel. I don't smoke a lot of pot, but I'm glad I've got the civil liberty to do it when I want.
Back to your book: It's so carefully designed — the pull-out map, images of your handwriting. That was your vision?
This is an unadulterated, candid, honest 23-year-old's description of my experience. I didn't pretty it up. I didn't get politically correct. I was just a kid over there in 1978, and I wanted it to be honest. We edited a little bit just for flow to make it a better read, but I didn't want to compromise any of the candor.
It was the last year you could do the hippie trail. The next year the Shah fell, Iran became a theocracy. It was a perfect time in my life. I documented it as a travel-writer-in-training, not even knowing it. And I photographed it. And I've got to say I photographed it beautifully. My handwriting was exquisite. I can't even read my handwriting now.
"There's a takeaway from the book, and it's that anybody can have their hippie trail."
There's a takeaway from the book, and it's that anybody can have their hippie trail. I'm so thankful I had it. I was able to do it from Istanbul to Kathmandu. But you can do it in any number of ways today, men or women, young or old. You can have that hippie trail experience. And if this can be an inspiration for that, I think it's great.
What do you think 20-something Rick Steves, on-the-hippie-trail Rick Steves, would be most surprised to learn about almost-70 Rick Steves?
He would be disappointed in him for being such a workaholic. And he would ask him, 'Why are you still slogging away at teaching people how to go to Europe? You could be enjoying the whole world as your playground.' And that 23-year-old Rick Steves wouldn't understand the power of my mission, which is to recognize that if all Americans could travel before they voted, this world would be a much better place.
I just wish that I could take my travels and bring them home to inspire Americans, that when they step into the voting booth, to not just think about themselves and their family and the short-term, but to think about the world and the humanity of it all, and the ideals of America, which are much different than one president or the next president's policies.
The ideals of America are what inspire the rest of the planet. I want our country to be a leader in making this world a better place. We've got a frustrated part of our society that is afraid of the world. Instead of building bridges, we're building walls. We can do better. I want to contribute to a country that we can be proud of and that the rest of the world can admire. That involves a thoughtful approach, an eagerness to be at the table with the family of nations. Even if you're motivated only by greed, you don't want to be filthy rich in a desperate world. Amen.

Sabrina Crews is a public media journalist and former reporting fellow with the Robert N. Butler Columbia Aging Center and Columbia Journalism School. Read More