Winter has a way of slowing everything down, and I felt it the moment I arrived in Ghent, Belgium. Christmas lights reflected softly off cobblestone streets, bikes glided past quietly, and the air smelled of mulled wine and food cooking somewhere nearby. There was no rush, only wandering, familiar streets, and the quiet joy of being somewhere that feels both lived-in and magical.

A few days later, I found myself waking up in Riga, looking straight down onto the Christmas market from my Airbnb window. Below me, steam rose from cauldrons where food was being cooked the old-fashioned way, and locals drifted through the square without the frantic energy you often find in bigger markets. Evenings were spent ice skating under open skies, sipping hot apple and pear drinks, and walking through parks lit softly for Christmas. Riga felt cozy, safe, and unexpectedly special.

Tallinn surprised me in a different way. Modern, expansive, and wrapped around a medieval heart, it slowly revealed itself with every walk. One night, I found myself ice skating once again but this time with locals on New Year’s Eve, snow in the air, music playing somewhere in the distance, a moment I hadn’t planned, but one that perfectly captured why I travel the way I do.

Helsinki was slipped in with a day trip by the Baltic Sea where I experienced this city in a white winter land.

Some trips are about ticking boxes. This one was about letting winter lead the way.