Holiday Highlight: A Winter Blur Across West Europe

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I just came back from a whirlwind trip with my mom—six countries in ten days across West Europe. Yes, you read that right. Six countries. Ten days. Winter. A demanding mother. And a suitcase that felt heavier every morning.

Was it exhausting? Absolutely.
Would I do it again? …Probably also yes.

Cold and quiet Lucerne


Travelling in winter is a different flavour of tired. The air bites a little, your fingers go numb while you’re trying to take photos, text your lovers, and strolling around charming European streets suddenly feels like a cardio challenge. But still, there was something magical about it; the cold breath, warm lights, the smell of pollution-free cities, and the constant hum of new places rushing past you.

This trip was packed—like, “no nap, no mercy” kind of packed. My mom (being my mom, you know if you know my mom) wanted to see everything, taste everything, and shop everywhere (she really ended up buying EVERYTHING from head to toe). I swear sometimes I felt like the designated tour guide slash personal assistant slash walking heater slash bellboy slash translator. But then I’d look at her face: so lit up, so excited, so alive—and all the tiredness melted a little.

Those are the moments that stay.

And oh, the happy parts were really happy. There were the new friends we met; people who, within minutes, felt strangely like family, as if we’d simply picked up an old conversation we never realised we’d started. There were warm meals shared with strangers who didn’t remain strangers for long, the kind of dinners that stretch into soft, unhurried conversations. I spoke multiple languages, in basic format of course, but that won the heart of the locals and gave us quite many freebies! 

I found myself discovering new places and hidden corners, breathing in unfamiliar scents and listening to sounds that made each city feel alive in its own way. And then there was, again, of course, my mum—so genuinely joyful, almost childlike, as though she were on a school trip, her eyes shining at every little thing. 

When in Milan

Along the way, we helped others when we could, and it’s funny how those small acts of kindness seem to echo louder when you’re far from home. But perhaps the sweetest part of all was having a little “me time” the precious pockets of quiet after months of being completely wrapped in motherhood.

But of course, I missed my kids. A lot. There were moments in random train stations or cold plazas where I suddenly thought of them so strongly it almost hurt. I worked on a few days during the trip too—because life doesn’t stop just because you’re crossing borders; but strangely, I didn’t mind. It felt balanced, in its own messy way.

At the end of it all, I came home tired but full. The good kind of full—the kind that comes from stretching yourself, from going somewhere new, from seeing someone you love happy, from remembering who you are outside your routines. Winter was cold, the itinerary was a bit chaos, but my heart came back warmer. And that’s the recap.

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