Albania

Tirana doesn't ease you in. The apartment blocks are painted in stripes and blocks of color, a leftover from a mayor who decided the city needed cheering up, and it worked. I spent most of my days walking between Skanderbeg Square, the giant socialist mosaic on the front of the National History Museum, and the tree-lined Lana river, stopping for grilled sandwiches and, for some reason, really good burritos. Mother Teresa Square has a plaque with her name in Albanian, and the whole city is full of reminders that this country spent decades sealed off from everyone.

That's what makes it interesting now. Albania went from one of the most isolated places in Europe to a capital full of cafés, construction cranes and people who seem genuinely happy you showed up. It's cheap, it's a little chaotic, and nobody is performing for tourists yet. I celebrated a birthday dinner there with cake, strawberries and too much wine, and it felt like the kind of night you only get in a place that hasn't figured out it's a destination.