The pursuit of a winter escape

It is February, and the Scandinavian winter has once again tightened its cool grip. The days are short, the nights are long, and the sun—what little we see of it—seems to be about to give up on us entirely. 

It is during these dark months that the collective Nordic psyche begins to entertain a peculiar fantasy: escape. Not the kind of escape that involves a permanent relocation or a dramatic life change, but the kind that involves booking a flight to somewhere warmer, sunnier, and altogether more forgiving. 

For us, this winter, that somewhere will be Lisbon.

Lisbon, with its pastel-colored buildings, cobblestone streets, and seemingly perpetual sunlight, is the antithesis of the Scandinavian winter. 

And yet, as we sit here in our Copenhagen apartment, bundled in layers of wool and existential dread, we can’t help but wonder: is this annual pilgrimage to the south really the solution to our winter woes? Or is it just another form of modern escapism, a symptom of our collective inability to sit still and endure the discomfort of being?

Let’s be honest: the Scandinavian winter is not for the faint of heart. It is a season that demands resilience, patience, and a well-stocked supply of vitamin D supplements. But it is also a season that offers something rare and valuable: the opportunity to slow down, to reflect, and to embrace the art of doing nothing. In a world that glorifies productivity and constant movement, the Scandinavian winter forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that sometimes, the most productive thing we can do is doing nothing at all.

And yet, here we are, booking our flight to Lisbon. 

Why? Because despite the best efforts to romanticize the winter—to see it as a time of introspection and hygge— one cannot deny the allure of Lisbon’s sunshine. There is something undeniably seductive about the idea of trading snow boots for sandals, heavy coats for light jackets, and seasonal depression for a couple of glasses of vinho verde on a sun-drenched terrace.

 It is a fantasy that we, like so many others, are willing to indulge in, even if it means temporarily abandoning the Scandinavian principles of stoicism and self-restraint.

But as we prepare for the journey, we can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. Is this annual escape to Lisbon a betrayal of our Nordic roots? Are we just succumbing to the culture of instant gratification and avoidance?

 Perhaps. 

But then again, perhaps not. 

After all, even the most stoic among us need a break from time to time. And if that break happens to involve a couple of pastel de natas and a view of the Tagus River, who are we to argue?