Beyond the Crowds: The Beauty of Traveling in Winter

We are now about three weeks into our six-and-a-half-month journey through Europe, Türkiye, and Morocco. This year was different for us in the best possible way: we chose to stay home a bit longer, spending extra time with family and friends before leaving, and that turned out to be a wonderful gift. So, on December 8th, we set off, stepping right into the heart of the winter season.

Heading out on a long journey in the middle of winter might seem a little crazy. Most people choose warmer seasons for their adventures. Winter is normally when people research, daydream, and plan - not when they actually go.

However, one of the greatest benefits of winter travel is beautifully simple: you are free from crowds. You aren’t shuffling shoulder to shoulder through narrow streets or waiting in endless lines for the museum you’ve dreamed of visiting. Over the years - especially in Europe - tourism has grown to the point where peak season can overwhelm the very places people come to visit. Over-tourism is real. If you love constant energy, summer may be your season. But winter offers something profoundly different, and we’ve fallen in love with that difference.

Yes, winter brings colder air, wind, and rain. Warm coats aren’t optional. But what you receive in return feels worth it every single time. The streets open up again, and the towns settle into a softer rhythm. The city feels like it truly belongs to the people who live there, and instead of pushing your way in, you’re invited into their world. The pace slows, the experience deepens, and the true character of a place begins to shine through.

There’s also a freedom that’s easy to overlook. Hotel rooms are available. Restaurants have open tables. You don’t need reservations everywhere. Plans can shift without chaos. There’s time to linger, to sit, to absorb the moment, letting your travels unfold naturally.

And then there is the beauty. Winter light is different - soft, gentle, almost tender. Cities glow at night. Mountains feel more dramatic. The ocean seems more alive, almost emotional. Even architecture feels more striking when you’re not fighting the crowds just to glimpse it.

Winter also hands cities back to their residents. You walk into cafés where people greet each other by name and community feels real. Conversations start naturally. People have time to notice you as an individual rather than one more passing visitor. Those connections are rare - and winter makes space for them.

Of course, winter shapes each place differently. Some towns simply quiet down: others turn inward, shifting to a more local rhythm of warmth and community. Even that has its own beauty. Right now, we’re spending our first six weeks along Türkiye’s Turquoise Coast. It’s quieter than summer, and we love that. Shops are open, neighbors greet one another, and daily life continues. And somehow, standing at the edge of the sea bundled in layers feels even more romantic than standing there in sandals. In winter, the ocean holds a kind of intimacy that lingers long after you leave.

When we first started traveling to Europe eight or nine years ago, our trips were shorter - just two or three weeks - and most were in January and February. My first experiences of Paris, Madrid, Rome, Florence, Sevilla, Lisbon, Barcelona, and Amsterdam were all in the cold. We bundled up, and it was wonderful. Places that normally required patience and long waits were quiet and welcoming. Even air travel was easier and often less expensive. On this trip, our flight from Atlanta to London felt almost luxurious with an empty middle seat between Carla and me. And everywhere we go, life continues. Europeans simply live outdoors more. Even in winter they walk everywhere, dine outside, and yes - even in freezing Amsterdam - ride their bicycles with joy.

Winter travel does ask something of you. There’s less daylight, so mornings matter. Weather can rearrange your plans, so flexibility becomes part of the journey. Comfort requires intention. But instead of feeling like limitations, these things slow you down in a beautiful way. They invite presence. They remind you to savor.

For us, that trade-off is worth it. We add layers, wander for hours, laugh, and feel incredibly alive. Winter reminds you that joy and effort often walk side by side. You face the cold, and the warmth feels like a gift. You push through the wind, then find comfort in a welcoming café. And standing before a cathedral or a stretch of wild coastline, you can’t help but feel small - and yet deeply connected to this world.

Most of all, winter has a quiet way of calling you into honesty, presence, and genuine connection. It allows you to meet the world as it truly is, rather than as a postcard promises it will be.

And for us, that has become one of the greatest gifts of all.