April is a trap. Most travel writers tell you it’s the ultimate “sweet spot” for the Northern Hemisphere, but they’re usually just trying to sell you a dream that involves fewer crowds and perfect temperatures. The reality is usually a lot of mud, unpredictable rain, and realizing that “shoulder season” is often just code for “the weather is going to be terrible but the hotels are slightly cheaper.”
I’ve spent the last six years obsessively tracking my trips. I keep a spreadsheet—don’t judge me—where I log the temperature, the number of other tourists I had to elbow out of the way, and whether I actually enjoyed myself. What I’ve learned is that early April is the hardest time of year to get right. If you miss the window by even three days, you’re either shivering in a raincoat or sweating through a shirt you thought was “breathable.”
Most April travel advice is a total lie
Everyone talks about the “bloom.” They want you to go to DC or Tokyo or Paris to see things turning pink. I used to think shoulder season was the smartest way to travel. I was completely wrong. Most of the time, you’re just paying 90% of the peak price for 40% of the good weather. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. April isn’t bad, it’s just misunderstood by people who think a light cardigan is enough for Europe in the spring.
I have a very specific, probably unfair bias: I hate Paris in April. People sing songs about it, but in my experience, the city just smells like wet dog and damp limestone that hasn’t seen the sun since October. I refuse to recommend it. I don’t care how many movies tell you it’s romantic to walk in the rain near the Seine; it’s just cold. You’ll spend the whole time in a cafe that’s too crowded, drinking mediocre espresso just to stay warm. Total waste of time.
Why I’m officially over the “Sakura” hype
I know people will disagree with me on this, and I might be wrong, but I think traveling specifically for cherry blossoms is a mistake. I’ve been to Kyoto in the first week of April twice. Once in 2017 and again in 2023. I tracked the wait times for a decent coffee in Gion; it went from 12 minutes to 34 minutes in that span. The crowds are so dense you can’t even see the trees, you just see the back of a thousand other people’s heads holding up iPhones.
If you travel halfway around the world just to see a tree that stays pink for four days, you don’t actually like traveling; you just like taking pictures of things other people told you were pretty.
I honestly believe that. It’s performative. Plus, the weather in Japan in early April is incredibly fickle. You’re looking at a 60% chance of rain that will knock all those petals into the gutter before you even get through customs. If you want Japan, go in May when the greenery is exploding and you can actually breathe. Don’t do it.
The 14-degree rule for the High Desert
If you want to actually enjoy yourself in early April, you have to go to the desert. Specifically, the American Southwest or parts of Morocco. I’ve tested this. I’ve spent a total of 42 days in the high desert across four different Aprils. Based on my logs, the “perfect” window is exactly between April 4th and April 12th.
There is a specific phenomenon I call the 14-degree rule. In the high desert (think Joshua Tree or Moab), the temperature swing between 2 PM and 2 AM is almost always exactly 14 degrees Celsius. If it’s 22°C during the day, it’s 8°C at night. It’s predictable. It’s honest. Early April is the only time of year where the daytime temp stays under the “I’m melting” threshold while the nighttime temp stays above the “my pipes are freezing” threshold.
I remember sitting outside a trailer in Joshua Tree on April 8th last year. The air felt like a fresh sheet of paper. No humidity, no bugs, just silence. That’s what you’re actually looking for when you book a flight. You want a break from the noise. The desert at 5 AM is the only place that actually delivers that. Worth every penny.
The time I froze in Portugal (and why you might too)
I had this brilliant idea in 2018 to go to Sintra, Portugal, in the first week of April. Every blog said it was “mild.” I packed linen shirts, loafers, and a light denim jacket. I even bought one of those expensive Away suitcases because I thought it would make me look like a “real” traveler. (Side note: I hate that luggage. The wheels are fine, but the shell scuffs if you even look at it wrong. It’s overpriced plastic.)
Anyway, I got to Sintra and it was 9 degrees Celsius and raining sideways. The Atlantic wind in April doesn’t care about your aesthetic. I spent the entire first day shivering in a damp Airbnb that smelled like old socks because the “heating” was just one tiny electric radiator that smelled like burning hair. I eventually gave up and spent $240 on a thick wool sweater at a tourist trap near the Quinta da Regaleira. I looked like a fisherman who lost his boat. I felt like an absolute idiot standing there in my loafers while the locals walked past in actual winter coats.
The lesson? Southern Europe in early April is a gamble you will probably lose. If the wind blows from the north, you’re done. If you must go to Portugal, stay in the south, in the Algarve, and even then, don’t expect to go swimming unless you have a death wish or a very thick wetsuit.
Where to actually go
If you’re asking for my unfiltered, non-journalist opinion, here are the only three places I’d actually spend my own money on for an early April trip:
- Oaxaca, Mexico: It’s hot, but not the “I want to die” heat of July. The food is better than whatever you’re imagining, and the tourists haven’t completely ruined the vibe yet.
- Crete, Greece: Specifically the south coast. It’s rugged, the wildflowers are out of control, and you can find tavernas that are just waking up for the season. It feels like you’ve found a secret.
- Sedona, Arizona: I know, it’s “woo-woo” and people talk about vortexes, but the hiking in early April is world-class. Just avoid the main drag where they sell the fake crystals.
April weather in London or NYC is like a landlord who promises to fix the heater but never shows up. It’s a month of broken promises. Don’t try to find “spring” in a city that’s still shaking off winter. Go somewhere that has already accepted the sun.
I don’t know if I’ll ever find the truly “perfect” April spot that satisfies my need for quiet and my hatred of rain. Maybe it doesn’t exist. Maybe the whole month is just meant for staying home and cleaning out your closet. But if you’re going to go, for the love of god, pack a real coat. Even if the blog tells you it’s sunny. Especially if the blog tells you it’s sunny.
Go to Oaxaca. Just go.
