I’ve never understood the attraction of outer space as a tourist destination for people like Richard Branson and his billionaire buddies. There is almost no corner of Earth that hasn’t felt the footprint of a human, but very few of us as individuals – even if we’ve visited all 196 countries – have trodden on so much as a fraction of its landmass. Even if you think you’ve seen it all, there is sure to be a part of the world that could still reveal surprises to you.

This book proves that point. If you’ve done the grand tour of the Continent, you no doubt took in Florence’s Uffizi Gallery, the Prado in Madrid and the Hermitage Museum in St Petersburg, along with Chartres Cathedral, the Sistine Chapel and Hitler’s bunker in Berlin. And if you’re more inclined to physically vigorous pursuits, you might have walked along a bit of Spain’s Camino de Santiago.

But how many Australians have heard of – let alone seen – Norway’s Jotunheimen National Park and its towering peaks that stand sentinel over the entrance to icy blue fjords? Or Albania’s Valbona Valley National Park, which is still largely a wilderness where wolves, bears and jackals roam? Or the Parco Nazionale d’Abruzzo, Lazio e Molise in Italy?

These national parks and 57 others feature in this guide to the wide open spaces of Europe. Breakout boxes with illustrations direct you to the animals to keep an eye out for, and you’ll also find handy statistics about the parks and suggested itineraries.

If you’ve had your fill of Europe’s galleries, churches and museums, then grab this guide, study it, pack your walking boots and go. The featureless depths of outer space will pale in comparison to the icy, sun-scorched, towering and verdant features of Europe’s untamed and uncurated expanses.

Reviewed by Tim Graham