Living far from old friends and family, my sister and I decided to start a tradition of our own. Every year on our birthdays, we would travel abroad and celebrate the coming of another year amidst strangers. We traded familiar loving souls for those fellow wanderlust-drenched travelers we meet on the road. Instead of good old home-cooked meals prepared in our mom’s kitchen, we opt for exciting unfamiliar dishes we can’t even pronounce correctly. Gone are the long talks with a glass of wine in the living room, as we choose to celebrate our birthdays in a country where the language is but a mysterious melody. Did I mention we skipped blowing candles and eating cake for dessert? And the pile of gifts to be unwrapped is now a city we slowly unravel to discover the unknown treasure that has until then been hidden to us.
It might all sound new and exhilarating but here’s one tiny bit of detail I haven’t mentioned yet: my sister’s birthday falls right in the height of European winter. So while others sit cozily by the fire with a cup of tea nestled between their hands, you will find me trudging through ankle-deep snow with luggage in tow braving the northern winds, risking flight cancellations, and longer airport layovers. Perhaps a bit crazy, you say. Ah! Perhaps not. Because there’s something utterly magical about traveling in winter.
I’ve seen New York in May, when springtime turns Central Park like that solitary green sprout that grows between the concrete pavements. I found it a refreshing change from all that New York City gray. Yet in winter, Central Park reigns in all its frozen beauty! In a city of hard edges and muted colors, Central Park decked in white was a sight to behold. The frozen lake, the barren trees, all aloof in their white splendor. Then there was this winter trip to London. The empty alleys shrouded in fog are lifted right out of the pages of my favorite Sherlock Holmes stories. This was the mysterious London I learned to love but wouldn’t have known had I gone in mid-July. Standing still in the light of a lamppost, I saw my frosted breath mingle with the night. I could almost hear the horse drawn carriages swaying along the cobbled roads. I was transported back in time.
But traveling in winter does not necessarily mean packing your snow boots and the thickest coat in your closet. The world is a big place after all. Wishing to fully escape the cold winter, my sister and I once decided to head to a place where the sun shines over an eternal summer. With a massive jet lag and bags filled with summer clothing, we arrived in a tropical paradise − the Philippines. Snorkeling, anyone? How about swimming with whale sharks in Cebu? I had summer sunshine right in the middle of winter!
This cold season, as you are snuggling beneath your blanket or hiding in the warmth of your kitchen, think about all those places you haven’t been to yet. Those places that lay unknown beneath a frosty white wrapping waiting for you to finally discover what’s hidden inside. Book a ticket. Pack your bags. Unwrap that city, layer by layer.
Thank you for reading!
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