Visiting the Alsace region of northeastern France was a bit of a last-minute decision, but it ended up being one of our favorite parts in Europe—and even of the whole trip.

First of all, the scenery was simply breathtaking: rolling hills, an array of autumn colors from fading greens to deep reds, expansive plains and farmlands that would stretch for miles toward the horizon.

The small towns that dot the Alsatian countryside also capture the imagination. They’re the quintessential charming European villages, full of winding alleys and cottage-like buildings where you could imagine a Grimm Brothers fairy tale character living in.

And what was extra lovely about our getaway in Alsace was that there were few other tourists there. Most of our European route has been very well-traveled by other backpackers and tourists, to the point at which I wondered how many “untouched” places are left—but Alsace definitely is. Most of the villages we visited—Oberhaslach, Balbronn, Westhoffen—were very quiet and secluded, and I felt like we were perhaps the only foreigners in town.

(To be fair, part of why Alsace isn’t on the typical backpacker route is that it’s a bit expensive—but for only three nights, we were able to budget appropriately for it!)

Another part we loved about Alsace were the friendly people. There’s the preconceived notion that French people are really snooty and rude if you don’t speak French, but that wasn’t our experience at all. Most people we met spoke little or no English (and we speak very basic French), yet everyone was so welcoming to us. Really, they seemed a bit amused at our feeble attempts at French and were more than happy to help try to translate things for us—from using hand gestures to illustrate “sparkling water” to finding an English-speaking restaurant patron to help us out.

Finally, I loved our time in Alsace because we had the opportunity to “walk the grounds” of my ancestors—my paternal grandfather’s great-grandfather (or my great-great-great grandfather) was born in 1803 in Sarrewerden, a small Alsatian village (current population: around 900 people). His name was John Dominic Risser, and he immigrated to the United States, settling in Pennsylvania and eventually becoming a Union captain in the Civil War.

While visiting Sarrewerden, it was incredible to think about how different my life is compared to people who live there, yet I have a familial connection to this place—and to think about how different my life would have been if John Dominic Risser had never left. Obviously, I wouldn’t even exist in that alternate universe, but perhaps another version of me would have been a French girl living in this small village in the countryside. (Maybe I would have been the one to help English-speaking foreigners out?)

In Sarrewerden’s one restaurant and bar, we talked with some locals who pointed us in the direction of the local cemetery. Here, we came across several gravestones with the Risser family name—all people on my extended family tree, and with an entirely different life story from mine. And in the middle of the cemetery there was a memorial for those from the village who died in WWI and WWII, and the name Risser was here as well.

Alsace was charming and relaxing, and also an opportunity to see how we can be connected to places far different from the ones we’re familiar with.