According to Expedia, A Lotta People Like Sand in Their Buns (Especially Austrians)

Nude beaches quickly summon thoughts of abs of steel and sun-kissed butt cheeks. In reality, however, they’re known for attracting leather-y old people who can’t be bothered by tan lines. So if you’re looking to build some sandcastles in your birthday suit, Expedia’s 2016 Flip Flop Report released crucial data on where to find the most attractive bare beach-goers. Take a look at the chart above and get to booking that summer Eurotrip. Just don’t forget to pack your swim trunks.

Super Cool, Cheap Stays That’ll Change Your Mind About Hostels

Take a Swing at America’s Trippiest Mini-Golf Courses

How to Travel Fearlessly in the Age of ISIS and Zika

“Maybe everybody in the whole damn world is scared of each other,” says Slim in John Steinbeck’s 1937 classic Of Mice and Men. I read the book back in high school, and it didn’t mean much to me then. Now, having traveled some, I dwell on this quote quite often. I think a lot of people are scared of each other.

We have enough reasons to be. We live in a world inundated with terror, in an age of endemic terrorist attacks, insurgency and a spate of pandemic diseases­—Zika, Ebola, Yellow Fever—that claim lives in all corners of the globe. We’re reluctant to leave the cities of our comfort because we’re perpetually paralyzed by the “what if.” What if someone hijacks the plane? What if someone shoots up the airport? What if we catch something? But what if they don’t, and we don’t? In the interest of being tenacious, it’s our duty to take back our lives, to stop existing and to start living again. Because when we succumb to our fears, our enemies win.

Yes, we’re often at risk when we travel, but the sad truth is we’re not safe here, either.

The US government issues travel alerts and warnings regularly, discouraging Americans from visiting certain countries. For good reason, of course. But here’s the thing: There have been more than 1,300 confirmed cases of Zika on US territory and the gunman of the worst mass shooting in the history of our country was an American citizen. Four US cities—St. Louis, Baltimore, Detroit and New Orleans—have placed among the top 50 most dangerous cities in the world, based on their murders per capita. Yes, we’re often at risk when we travel, but the sad truth is we’re not safe here, either. The only choice we have is to live our lives fearlessly, or die  wishing we had.

With this in mind, I’ve chosen some of the countries listed with advisories by the State Department’s Bureau of Consular Affairs, and I am here to tell you why maybe you should still go to them, advisories be damned.

1. Philippines
Go for the rich biodiversity spanning more than 7,000 islands, to ride in a jeepney or to visit with the country’s hospitable locals, who look incredibly young because they smile more than most.

2. Mexico
Go for the family parties. Mexicans are typically very conscious of their responsibilities to their immediate families, which are traditionally large, and hosting family gatherings is not uncommon—usually complete with culinary wonders like chorizo and tequila.

3. Haiti
Haiti lacks emergency response and medical facilities. Still, hiking in this country, the most mountainous nation in the Caribbean, is worth the risk.

4. Honduras
Go for the ancient Mayan ceremonial site Copán, the massive barrier reef popular for scuba divers offshore the Bay Islands or the jungle lands near Guatemala.

5. Lebanon
Go for the shopping in the reconstructed souks, where name brands line the hallowed halls of the 5,000-year-old trading center in Beirut, a Middle Eastern fashion capital. Or go for the UNESCO World Heritage Site Byblos, recently selected as the Arab Tourism Capital for 2016, known for its medieval ramparts and authentic souks on the cobblestone streets.

6. Israel
In no particular order, you might want to float in the Dead Sea, tour the Old City of Jerusalem, spend a night out in Tel Aviv—the other city that never sleeps—or marvel at the mountain fortress of Masada.

7. El Salvador
The capital city of San Salvador boasts a ton of archaeological history and a vibrant nightlife and art scene, with the dramatic backdrop of volcanoes worth hiking and waves worth catching. Go for the hike or the surf. And pupusa, for real.

8. Tunisia
Tunis, the capital city, is known for its theaters, cathedrals and palaces. Go for the Arabic and French-Colonial history that dates back to the 6th century, stay for the Roman mosaics and Islamic art.

9. Turkey
Definitely pay a visit to the lunar landscape of Cappadocia’s Goreme National Park, where white volcanic ashes coat chimneys, the archaeological site of Troy, Istanbul’s Grand Bazaar or the Temple of Artemis, one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

10. Colombia
Go for Cartagena’s colorful colonial architecture. Stick around for the parties at Parque Lleras, the main nightlife district of Medellin. Trust us: There’s only a very small chance you’ll get kidnapped.

This Astronaut Experienced the “World’s Worst Hangover”

Imagine that feeling the morning after a bender—the nausea, the dizziness, the not-being-able-to-get-out-of-bed-ness. Now multiply it. By like a thousand. Apparently, that’s how British astronaut Tim Peake felt after returning from his six-month stint in space.

“Coming back to earth was like the world’s biggest hangover,” Peake told reporters recently.

And it will take a little more than an aspirin and a bottle of water to cure this hangover. Peake is currently at the European Astronaut Center in Germany where he faces three weeks of medical rehabilitation that will hopefully ease the extreme dizziness and vertigo he experienced upon returning to Earth.

Peake is planning to celebrate his return home with pizza and beer—hair of the dog, right?

After spending the past six months floating, Peake will need to learn to walk again. That’s a feat that will prove even more difficult because he also needs to regain his balance and sense of direction—there’s no up and down in space.

Peake is not in what you’d call peak condition. Months in space have weakened his muscles and bones and, even worse, temporarily shrunk the size of his heart. Doctors will monitor the 44-year-old astronaut’s heart and blood circulation’s response to gravity by examining him on a tilt table that rotates his body from horizontal to vertical positions. Which sounds just a tad more intense than the banana bag.

If that weren’t enough, Peake was also exposed to a radiation dose equivalent to nearly 1,200 chest X-rays while unprotected by the Earth’s magnetic field.

Doctors say Peake’s symptoms should subside in a couple of days. Stay strong, Peake. We’ve all been there. Or not, really. We suppose the nausea, dizziness and just all-around regretting of life’s choices is a lot less sad when your choice was to go to space… Yeah.

Peake says he’s planning to celebrate his return home with pizza and beer—hair of the dog, right?

Should You Feel Bad About Traveling When Others Can’t?

I just got back from a short trip to Tokyo, where I did what any man would: I took tons of pictures and posted them to Facebook and Instagram, reaping the likes and showing my friends and followers that I have really good taste in yakitori and know where to find the best shio ramen.

But after reading an opinion piece on Ravishly called “Your Obsession With Travel Sure Feels Classist To Me,” I almost feel bad about it all.

Almost.

But should I feel bad for posting pictures and videos of my trips to social media in fear that my friends and followers will be triggered into shame spirals about their own misfortunes?

The author of the piece, Katherine Dim Clover, points out that travel is a “leisure activity enjoyed largely by the upper classes.” She recounts how, as a child, she felt embarrassed about not having gone anywhere exotic when teachers would ask what she did during summer break.

And it’s getting worse, she says. Travel is marketed as something that broadens worldview, enriches people and may even be necessary to be happy.

But what about people who can’t afford to travel? Clover feels shame about that, and she’s probably not alone. The way we share our travel photos and videos on social media can make others feel bad about themselves as well. Not only are they missing out, they’re not even able to make a change due to financial or other constraints. They feel low.

She finishes off with: “When you hold travel up on some kind of pedestal, you sound classist as hell, and I wish you would stop that.”

I was with her until that last bit. I understand that not everyone has the same resources I do—that I can up and head to Tokyo for a wedding—but I refuse to feel bad about that. Should I feel bad for having air conditioning during a heatwave when someone else doesn’t? Should I feel bad about anything I have or can do that someone else cannot?

Of course not.

But should I feel bad for posting pictures and videos of my trips to social media in fear that my friends and followers will be triggered into shame spirals about their own misfortunes?

Maybe, but I refuse to do so. Not because I think it’s their problem that they cannot travel. Not because I don’t care about their feelings. Not because I think they can simply choose to not look or not follow my updates.

But because I am sharing my experience with them. That is, by nature, a good thing. These aren’t selfies. These aren’t “look at me” proclamations of superiority. Just like Anthony Bourdain shares amazing experiences in culture and food around the world via his television documentaries, I’m sharing experiences that I’m lucky enough to have with my friends, family and followers. In fact, because most of them know me personally, they’re able to experience those things with some context. If they end up feeling bad about the fact that I’m doing a little traveling, well, that’s on them. They can look at that picture in one of two ways: “Wow, that’s amazing!” or “That’s not fair.”

The choice is one of maturity, not class.

Especially if they’re never going to have the chance to eat yakitori in Tokyo. Sure, they could watch an episode of No Reservations and get a sense of Tokyo, but they know me, and my little pictures let them know that I am experiencing something great, and that when I take that photo and share it, I’m doing it for them.

Sure, the likes, and followers make me feel good, but if I didn’t care that my loved ones care about what I am up to, what would society be?

Sacre Bleu! This New Apartment in the Eiffel Tower Is Unbelievable