December in the Netherlands can feel heavy.
The rain seems endless, the sky stays low and grey, and days pass without much light. People retreat indoors. Curtains close earlier. Energy drops. It is hard not to notice how the lack of sunlight affects mood. Winter depression is not some abstract concept here. You can feel it in the streets.
And yet, every now and then, something changes.
When the sun comes out on a winter day, even briefly, people appear almost instantly. Streets fill. Terraces suddenly make sense again. Everyone seems to soak up the light as if they know it will not last. Yesterday was one of those days.
My mother and I decided to go out and visit the Saturday and Christmas market in Delft. We drove into the city and parked in the nearest parking garage. It was no surprise that it was packed. Not completely full yet, but close. Everyone had the same idea. When the sun shows itself in December, you do not stay home.
That contrast is striking. The same place, the same season, and yet two completely different experiences of winter.
Today, I had a one hour Line call with my wife in Gifu. She told me it was cold and because of that she had stayed inside. There was no snow yet, just low temperatures. While we were talking, I realised something quite clearly.
I prefer winter in Gifu over winter in the Netherlands.
Not because it is warmer. It is not. But because it feels different.
She mentioned the idea of going somewhere warm in February. Hawaii. Okinawa. Escaping the cold altogether. I understood the temptation, but I felt more excited about something else entirely. The snowy parts of Gifu. Mountains and forests covered in white. Staying in an onsen ryokan in winter. Embracing the season instead of avoiding it.
When I return to Japan at the end of this month, winter will still be there. And that feels right.
All we really need are winter tires for our car. Then we can go. The beauty is close. The experience does not require a flight to the other side of the world. It is already near our home.
It’s clear to me that winter itself is not the problem.
A winter that is dark, wet, windy, and mostly endured feels draining. A winter that is cold but intentional feels alive. Snow reflects light. Hot springs give warmth meaning. Forests and mountains slow you down in a way that feels natural.
Why should I leave Japan in winter when there are beautiful gems waiting nearby our home?
Not every winter needs to be escaped. Some winters are meant to be entered.

This is us in Shirakawago last winter. How could we ever want to escape such a beautiful experience?








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