8 cities everyone should visit at least once before they turn 60

I used to measure my years in balance sheets and quarterly reports.

These days, I measure them in the small, sticky memories that cling after a trip—how a city smells at dawn, the way strangers laugh, the quiet bravery of getting lost and finding your way back.

If you’re looking for places that expand your heart and your habits, here are eight cities that shaped me—and might just sharpen your sense of what matters before the next chapter begins.

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness.” — Mark Twain

1. Kyoto, Japan

Slow growth looks a lot like Kyoto.

When I first arrived, I kept trying to do Kyoto—temple after temple, checklist in hand. Then, one rainy afternoon, I sat for an hour watching a gardener rake a gravel path into ripples. That was the moment I realized: this city isn’t a sprint; it’s a tea ceremony.

Kyoto invites you into deep time. Wooden machiya houses, moss gardens, the hush of Fushimi Inari at sunrise. If you’ve ever wondered whether serenity is a skill you can practice, Kyoto says yes. Book a morning at a sentō bathhouse. Walk the Philosopher’s Path with no podcast in your ears. Notice how quickly your nervous system downshifts.

Practical tip: trains are efficient, but your feet are wiser. Pick one district—Arashiyama, Higashiyama, or Gion—and linger. Your knees will thank you, and so will your curiosity.

2. Istanbul, Türkiye

Istanbul taught me to hold contradictions without flinching.

Standing on the Galata Bridge, I watched fishermen cast lines into the Bosphorus while the call to prayer braided over the traffic. Europe to my left, Asia to my right. Kebabs for lunch, baklava with tea, and a conversation with a shopkeeper about football and Sufi poetry in the same breath.

I traveled here trying to reconcile a few clashing stories in my life. In practice, that looked like riding the ferry at sunset and simply letting the light change my mind.

Practical tip: take the public ferry at golden hour. It’s the cheapest, most cinematic therapy session you’ll ever have.

3. Lisbon, Portugal

Lisbon is the friend who insists you slow down, sip your espresso, and look at the tiles.

I went after a tough year—burnout, a messy project, the works. Lisbon met me with warm light bouncing off azulejos and people who took their time. Hills that test your calves. Pastéis de nata that make you forgive everything.

This is a city for recalibration. Ride Tram 28, sure, but also let yourself wander into a miradouro and sit on the wall like a teenager. Listen to fado in a tiny tavern. Notice how saudade—the Portuguese flavor of longing—feels less like sadness and more like permission to remember who you were.

Practical tip: buy a rechargeable transit card and alternate walking days with tram days. If joints complain, they’ve earned a say.

4. Oaxaca, Mexico

If joy had a home kitchen, it would be in Oaxaca.

I went for the food and stayed for the craft. Mole so layered it felt like reading a novel. Markets thrumming with color. A morning learning to grind corn opened something in me I didn’t know was tight. When your hands work, your mind softens. That’s true in a spreadsheet; it’s truer in a tortillería.

Oaxaca also taught me about community infrastructure—how tradition isn’t nostalgia; it’s a living system of decisions. See the alebrije workshops in San Martín Tilcajete. Visit a weaving family in Teotitlán del Valle. You start to understand that culture isn’t “over there.” You participate in it with your choices and attention.

Practical tip: schedule time between meals. Your future self (and digestive system) will be grateful.

5. Cape Town, South Africa

Cape Town is where I remembered my body lives on a planet.

On my second morning, I climbed Lion’s Head at dawn and watched a city wake between mountain and sea. Later, penguins toddled past me at Boulders Beach like overdressed party guests. In the afternoon, the wind heckled me off the Cape of Good Hope. By dinner, I’d tasted a South African pinotage and felt wonderfully small.

But Cape Town also holds hard histories. Robben Island isn’t a checkbox—it’s a conversation with yourself about resilience and responsibility.

Practical tip: the weather changes personalities in minutes. Pack layers, sunscreen, and humility.

6. Hanoi, Vietnam

Hanoi felt like sitting in a jazz improv session—chaotic, precise, alive.

I still can hear the symphony: scooters humming, vendors calling, ladles clinking bowls of phở. I once spent a full morning by Hoàn Kiếm Lake watching tai chi, couples doing wedding photos, and grandparents lecturing toddlers with the gentlest scowls. The city moves with the choreography of everyday discipline.

This is a place to practice attention. Cross the street with purpose. Learn to sit on those tiny plastic stools without toppling. Order egg coffee and let your skepticism melt. When you tune in, you start to grasp how ritual carries a city—and how ritual can carry you, too.

Practical tip: take a street-food tour on your first night. Your taste buds and your risk tolerance will align faster.

7. Marrakech, Morocco

Marrakech is a kaleidoscope for the senses—and a mirror for your mindset.

I wandered the medina and realized how quickly my brain wanted to label everything “too much” or “not enough.” Spices stacked like pyramids, rugs unfurling like sunsets, calls to prayer threading the air. Somewhere between the Jardin Majorelle blues and the rust-red walls, my inner control freak unclenched.

Practical tip: master one polite phrase—“La, shukran” (no, thank you)—and shop with a smile. Haggling is theatre; play your part kindly.

8. Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

Some cities flirt. Rio dances.

I ran along the edge of Ipanema at sunrise and felt my ribcage expand. In the afternoon, I joined a samba rehearsal that made me laugh at my own hips.

Where other cities taught me about contemplation, Rio taught me about participation. There’s a reason Cariocas radiate presence—this place rewards being in your life.

Hike to the top of Pedra Bonita if your knees are game. Take the tram to Cristo Redentor and watch clouds drift like thoughts. Eat feijoada with friends you met yesterday. You’ll go home more porous, softer, bolder.

Practical tip: respect the sun, the ocean, and your limits. Then say yes to the music anyway.

How to choose where to go first

Eight cities can be a lot to pick from. Here’s how I decide:

• Follow your question. Every good trip starts with one. Are you craving stillness? Kyoto. Want your boundaries stretched? Marrakech or Hanoi. Need to remember your body? Cape Town or Rio.

• Match the pace to your energy. If you’re juggling injuries or simply tired, Lisbon’s gentle hills and trams are forgiving. If you’re restless, Istanbul’s ferries and bazaars can soak up all your eager.

• Design for recovery. Build one “empty day” into every trip. No plans, just wandering. It’s astonishing what arrives when you stop forcing it.

• Bring a practice, not a checklist. On the plane or over breakfast, take five minutes to check in: What’s my body saying? What emotion is making a bid for attention? What belief am I dragging along that I could set down? I got this ritual from reading Rudá Iandê, and it keeps the trip honest.

And remember, you don’t have to visit any city like a content creator. Visit like a human. Sleep. Eat well. Sit on benches. Talk to fruit sellers and taxi drivers. Those are the conversations that still echo years later.

“Traveling—it leaves you speechless, then turns you into a storyteller.” — Ibn Battuta

Final thoughts

In my old career, I loved forecasts. In travel, my favorite moments happen when the forecast is wrong and I’m invited to improvise. These cities taught me that aging well isn’t about clinging to certainty; it’s about becoming a person who can keep opening.

If you’re looking for a companion to that kind of opening, I’ll point you again to Rudá Iandê’s Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life.

The book inspired me to show up more honestly on the road and at home, and the line I carry into every new place is simple and liberating: “When we let go of the need to be perfect, we free ourselves to live fully—embracing the mess, complexity, and richness of a life that's delightfully real.”

If that resonates, it might be the nudge you need—before you pick your city, pack your bag, or step into the next version of yourself.

Here’s to the places that teach us how to live our days with a little more awe—and to the tools and teachers that help us stay awake to the journey.