I was in the Italian town of Orvieto, doing my best to stay in my hotel room and finish some writing. But there was a Pentecost festival going on outside — I could hear it out my window. I couldn't resist, so I joined the multitude that had gathered on the square in front of the cathedral — just as the citizens of Orvieto have done for generations.

The energy was building. Suddenly, a dove in a little plastic tube rocketed down a zipline and into a nest of fireworks at the front of the church, setting it all ablaze. After the fireworks blew off, a firefighter climbed up the little tower to see if the dove was OK. It was. And that was great news, as it meant good luck for the town and fertility to the last couple married in Orvieto.

Like travel in general, breakfast gets you out of your routine and throws you a cultural curve that can add to the memories of your trip. Not long ago, I grabbed breakfast at a hotel in southern Spain. The only cereal available was a local version of frosted corn flakes. As there was no "mature" option, I indulged in a bowl of my childhood favorite. But the cereal milk was heated — apparently standard in this part of Spain. My poor frosted flakes immediately turned to mush. Not so grrrrrrreat.

Soggy flakes or not, breakfast is a fun part of travel and the experience varies plenty from one country's breakfast table to the next.

A major expense of any European vacation is the cost of accommodations. No matter where you go — whether a bustling city like Madrid or a mid-sized destination like Sevilla — the neighborhood and hotel you choose help shape your experience. But you don't have to spend a fortune to find a nice, comfortable place to rest your head every night.

While many travelers opt for modern chains or big, business-class hotels, I find that these tend to build a wall between you and the people and culture you traveled so far to experience. Spending less usually gives you a richer experience. I often hear about people coming back from their vacations with bruised and battered pocketbooks, complaining about their $450-a-night room in London. True, you can spend that much, but I never have. That's three days' accommodations for me.

Great European train stations stir my wanderlust. In Munich, about to catch a train, I stand under the station's towering steel and glass rooftop and study the big schedule board. It lists a dozen departures. Every few minutes, the letters and numbers on each line change as, one by one, cities and departure times work their way to the top and then disappear. I'm surrounded by Europeans on the move — businessmen in tight neckties, giddy teenagers, families, porters pushing handcarts.

For many tourists, the pleasure of journeying along Europe's well-organized rail system really is as good as the destination. Train travel isn't as flexible as driving, but it's less stressful. I'd rather watch the landscape instead of fixing my eyes on the road. On a train, I can forget about parking hassles, confusing road signs, bathroom stops, or Italian drivers.

Staying at a European bed-and-breakfast is a bit like having your own temporary mother while you travel. In the morning, your hostess might help plan your day, tipping you off to the best places for lunch and about the live folk music in the village pub that evening. She then sends you out the door with a smile, handing you an umbrella — just in case it rains. The best B&Bs ooze warmth and local color, making these some of my favorite accommodations in Europe.

B&Bs are generally small, family-run places with fewer amenities but more character than a hotel.  Most B&Bs offer up to six rooms in the hosts' own home, though they can range from large guest houses with 20 rooms to small homes renting out a single spare bedroom.

Finishing dinner at Rome's Ristorante da Fortunato, my friend Stefano explains that his greatest joy is an after-dinner drink called grappa. I try my best to enjoy the local firewater and fail. Sipping the grappa, Stefano instructs me: "You must not be in a hurry when taking a grappa!" He savors it carefully, sniffing the aroma and lingering over every taste. He then tells me that his ultimate joy is to have a glass of grappa — and a Tuscan cigar — while cruising on his sailboat to Corsica.

And so it goes all over Europe. Each nation has its own brand of moonshine — a distilled concoction that burns your throat, waters your eyes, and clouds your mind till you think you can drink like you're a native. Trying these regionally produced spirits and liqueurs can be a great cultural experience — and brings out fun and fascinating facets of my favorite continent.