When to travel
A turning month. The north is waking up, the south is winding down, and in between sits a run of countries at their most pleasant.
These countries call March their strongest month: weather, landscape and rhythm all line up.

A country best discovered at the table, one that feels like an almost different place from north to south.

Desert, history and a hospitality that often turns out to be the most memorable part of the journey.

From city rhythm to Patagonian wind, a country whose vast distances are part of the appeal.

Small on the map, yet coast, highlands and culture can feel worlds apart after just a few hours' drive.

Mountains, wadis and a quiet coastline: a destination that reveals itself at an unhurried pace.

Seven emirates, not all of them skylines. Beyond the famous cities lies a land of dunes, wadis and oasis villages that move at a very different pace.

The capital prefers to govern with calm rather than noise, putting its wealth towards culture and space rather than spectacle.

A city that keeps rewriting itself, though the old creek and its souks still hold on to the pace of life before the skyscrapers.

The most understated of the emirates, where culture and heritage matter more than height or gloss.

Forest and water alternate so often that the boundary blurs, a country that never needs to sell its silence because it already has plenty.

A region without hard borders, where tundra and pine forest live under a light that swings between two extremes throughout the year: months of sun or months of night.

A country where desert, mountains and coast merge within a few hours' drive, and the cities hold their own just as well.

An archipelago where granite, primeval forest and sea sit so close together it almost feels unreal.

Sandwiched between two oceans, with volcanoes and cloud forest that need no introduction.
A country that's compact, not small, with volcanoes running all the way to a coast that's never far away.

A highland where Maya culture isn't a backdrop but sets the rhythm of everyday life.

Two colonial cities, centuries-old rivals, separated by a lake dotted with volcanic islands, rougher around the edges than its neighbours.

An isthmus where two oceans almost touch and the rainforest reaches right up to the edge of the city.

Monasteries clinging to cliffs, valleys without traffic and access the country deliberately keeps limited, a calm its neighbours lost long ago.

Malay, Chinese and Indian life exist side by side with ease, and the rainforest is never far away, not even from the cities.

Order and jungle blend here with ease, and the food comes closer to the country's true character than its skyline does.

Austria pairs the calm of high mountains with an urban elegance that rarely raises its voice.
A country 4,270 kilometres long: desert in the north, glaciers in the south and an island in the middle of the Pacific.
A green strip along the Nile, with temples, tombs and desert on either side.
Rings of coral in the Indian Ocean, with islands to go quiet on and islands where people live.
A capital built on the ruins of Tenochtitlan, colonial cities and Maya cities in the forests of Yucatán.
Two islands of volcanoes, glaciers and fjords, with a Māori history you meet everywhere.
Perfectly workable in March, with a caveat spelled out on the destination page itself.

A world where centuries-old tradition and radical modernity sit effortlessly side by side.

A delta that changes with every season, in a country that deliberately keeps visitor numbers low across a vast expanse.

Space, forests and coastlines where nature still sets the agenda.
A peninsula that rebuilt itself within a few decades, yet just beyond the new skyline remains quiet and bare.

Vertical and unyielding: rock faces plunging straight into the fjords, with villages clinging to the edge between mountain and water.

Forest and water repeat in every direction, broken only by rust-red villages that feel as much a part of the scenery as the pine trees themselves.

A country with so many faces that two travellers rarely tell the same story about it.

A tiny kingdom usually overlooked in the shadow of its larger neighbours, which has let it keep a pace all its own.

A small country where three thousand years of history and the edge of the Sahara lie just a few hours' drive apart.
A country that has kept its national parks and hospitality intact, and it shows in the quality of its guides.

Flat, green and rarely loud, a country that prefers quiet over the spectacle of its neighbours.

Overgrown temples and a quiet resilience that say more about the past than any history book.

Ancient traditions, fast-paced cities and still landscapes exist side by side, in a country that seems to reinvent itself everywhere you look.

Sacred and everyday, silence and noise: extremes that simply coexist on this subcontinent, no explanation needed.

Valleys and temple towns that reveal as much about the country as its mountains do: there is far more here than Everest.

From busy Bangkok streets to quiet mountain villages in the north, this country has as many faces as it has provinces.

Turquoise domes and hushed caravanserais that still tell the story of where the Silk Road once converged.

An island that calls itself Greek, feels Turkish, and is fully neither, with an interior that few visitors ever see.

Forest and marsh stretch to the horizon, a digital capital, and a stillness that feels further north than the map suggests.

Every island is a different Greece, and the mountainous mainland remains unknown territory for most visitors.

A land of plains and rivers, thermal springs beneath the surface, and a capital that looks weightier than it feels.

A country that does not sell itself to visitors, with hospitality that is unfiltered and nightlife that lives up to its reputation.

Alps, karst caves and a sliver of coast all lie within a few hours of each other, in a country that never overdoes it.

A country spanning two continents and some ten layers of civilisation, with an interior far larger and quieter than its coast.

Belgium keeps its grandeur indoors: behind a façade, in a workshop, on a plate, and never needs a big story to go with it.

France changes character at every provincial border and refuses to be reduced to a single image.

In Italy, beauty is not the exception but the habit, from a kitchen table to a square's façade.

Malta is an island of limestone and fortress walls where every layer of history is still legible.

The Netherlands has fought for its space from the water for centuries, and loves an empty polder as much as a busy canal.

Portugal turns its back on Europe and its face to the ocean, with a wistfulness that rarely turns heavy.

Spain differs as much from itself as from its neighbours, with a dry interior, a green north, and a day that starts late and ends later.

In Switzerland the mountains do not ask for attention, and order is almost a feature of the landscape.

The United Kingdom never has to prove its character, made up as much of a wet moor as of a smart London street.

The Alps ignore national borders and impose their own, slow rhythm above the tree line.

Sardinia has a rugged interior that wants little to do with the glamour of its own coastline.

Sicily carries the traces of Greeks, Arabs and Normans, with a volcano that always keeps the last word.
A reef off the north-east coast, red rock in the centre, and an Aboriginal history tens of thousands of years deep.
A Portuguese island in the Atlantic, with peaks up to 1,862 metres, levadas along the mountainsides and a laurel forest on the north side.
A mountainous peninsula where a fast-moving capital and centuries-old monasteries sit a few hours apart by train.