The New Cinematic Travel: How Movies and TV Are Redefining European Escapes
There’s something undeniably seductive about the idea of traveling to a place simply because it looked breathtaking on screen. But what’s fascinating about the latest trend in ‘set-jetting’ is how it’s evolved beyond just booking a hotel featured in The White Lotus. It’s no longer about replicating a scene; it’s about immersing yourself in the essence of a place, as if the camera itself left behind a trail of secrets waiting to be discovered. Personally, I think this shift reflects a deeper craving for authenticity in travel—a desire to connect with the stories, flavors, and histories that make a destination unique.
Take Sicily, for example. When Francis Ford Coppola moved his Godfather production to the hillside villages of Savoca and Forza d’Agro, he didn’t just create iconic film locations; he inadvertently gifted Sicily a cinematic identity that still resonates today. What makes this particularly fascinating is how The White Lotus Season 2 doubled down on this legacy, introducing a new generation to the volcanic wine country of Mount Etna. But here’s the thing: it’s not just about sipping nerello mascalese while gazing at vineyards. It’s about understanding how the volcanic soil shapes the flavor, how the history of the region is poured into every glass. Staying at Monaci delle Terre Nere, a converted monastery turned wine estate, isn’t just a luxury—it’s a lesson in how the past and present coexist in perfect harmony.
From my perspective, this is where set-jetting gets truly interesting. It’s no longer a superficial chase for Instagrammable spots; it’s a way to explore the layers of a place. Consider Venice, a city that’s been a cinematic darling since Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. The 2026 Venice Biennale will undoubtedly draw art lovers, but what many people don’t realize is that the real magic happens in the collateral exhibitions—hidden in palazzos and deconsecrated churches across the six sestieri. It’s a reminder that even in a city as iconic as Venice, there’s always more to uncover if you’re willing to look beyond the Grand Canal.
Slovenia, on the other hand, is a destination that’s still flying under the radar, and that’s precisely what makes it so compelling. Ana Ros’s Jaz restaurant in Ljubljana is a perfect example of how set-jetting can intersect with culinary innovation. Here, there are no tasting menus or pretensions—just shared plates and a menu that changes daily based on what’s fresh from the market. But what this really suggests is that the future of travel isn’t about following a script; it’s about embracing spontaneity and letting the destination guide you.
A detail that I find especially interesting is how set-jetting is now influencing even the most niche interests. Puglia, for instance, has become a haven for agritourism lovers, thanks in part to its appearance in No Time to Die. Tenuta Negroamaro, with its red-soil gardens and slow-paced lifestyle, feels like a world away from the Bond franchise’s high-octane action. Yet, it’s this contrast—between the cinematic spectacle and the quiet reality—that makes the experience so captivating.
If you take a step back and think about it, set-jetting is also a reflection of how media shapes our perceptions of place. Amsterdam, for example, has long been associated with its canals and architecture, but the Rosewood Amsterdam’s art-centric design adds a new layer to the city’s identity. It’s not just about admiring the Nine Streets; it’s about engaging with the art that defines the city’s cultural soul.
Belgrade, meanwhile, is a destination that challenges the very idea of what makes a place ‘cinematic.’ Ralph Fiennes chose it for Coriolanus not because of its obvious beauty, but because of its spirit—a spirit that compresses centuries of history into a single streetscape. The Bristol Belgrade, with its Art Nouveau facade and storied past, is more than a hotel; it’s a living testament to the city’s resilience and charm.
Scotland, of course, has its own cinematic allure, thanks to Skyfall and The Traitors. But what makes this particularly fascinating is how the country’s whisky culture has become a destination in itself. The Balvenie distillery isn’t just a place to taste whisky; it’s a place to understand the craftsmanship and tradition behind it. And the private room at Johnnie Walker Princes Street? That’s where the real magic happens—a space where provenance and rarity take center stage.
This raises a deeper question: What does it mean to travel like this? In my opinion, set-jetting in 2026 isn’t just about following in the footsteps of filmmakers and actors. It’s about using their stories as a starting point to create your own. It’s about finding the unexpected, the hidden, and the authentic. It’s about realizing that every destination has a story to tell—if you’re willing to listen.
So, the next time you find yourself booking a trip because it looked good on screen, remember this: the camera may have captured the place, but it’s up to you to experience it. And that, I think, is what makes this trend so enduring. It’s not just about the destination; it’s about the journey—both on screen and off.
