In recent years, I’ve taken a novel approach to the winter getaway: While friends escape to warmer climes, I head to Canadian cities where it’s colder and more ferocious than what Bostonians love to complain about. And yes, I sometimes ask why I’m doing it to myself.
But every year, I remember why I travel against the grain. These cities — and others around the world — feel like getaways compared with the doldrums here in Boston, because they’ve learned to do winter right.
Last February, my destination was Winnipeg, where the frozen rivers downtown were alive with ice skaters. The winter before, I poked around Edmonton without exposing my cheeks to the brutal winds, thanks to a maze of heated tunnels that connect the buildings there. A month before then, I was dancing to techno beats with parka-clad Montrealers as snow fell at an event called Igloofest.
Initially, these trips were simply a wallet-friendly alternative to the tropics. Then I learned — just like our northern neighbors — to embrace the season.
And with each return to Boston, I became more conscious of our lack of winter spirit. If you’ve ever wandered around Copley Square or Atlantic Avenue on a Thursday evening in January, you know what I’m talking about. Large open spaces are left vacant. Encountering a large group of people out on the town feels like a rare wildlife sighting. But winter doesn’t have to be an exercise in misery.
To be fair, some efforts have been made to bring more winter cheer. The annual Snowport winter market in the Seaport and SoWa Winter Festival in the South End, for example, call to mind the labyrinthine holiday street markets that pop up in Vienna, Prague, and Dresden each winter. It’s not a perfect translation; the European markets don’t charge to get in, as SoWa does, and there are a lot more of them spread out across each city. But once an idea takes root, it can grow — for my money, the JP Holiday Market in the Spontaneous Celebrations arts space in Jamaica Plain leads the pack for importing Europe’s yuletide vibes to Boston.
But there’s much more that we can do.
Let’s start at the ground level and consider the streets. In winter, snow, sleet, and wind can disincentivize moving around the city. But illuminating more of our streets and parks with enchanting light fixtures can transform them into destinations. Tokyo has done a masterful job with creative installations that stay aglow after New Year’s Day. The Shibuya Blue Cave lights immerse visitors in sapphire haze, while the illuminations on Nakadori Avenue bring the party downtown.
Suppose Boston kept more lights on for the duration of winter. Where might those glowing streets take us? One possibility appeared on City Hall Plaza in early 2024, when the city teamed up with CultureHouse, a group that helps create public gathering spaces, to bring a Finnish-style pop-up sauna to town. In Nordic cities, saunas are more than thermal spas. They’re low-cost spaces where it’s normal to share a bench and a conversation with your neighbors, trading life updates. What if Boston brought more saunas to neighborhoods, and kicked in a little more funding to lower the admission price?
Investing more money into winter events and offerings may be one of the most crucial considerations. Because when winter amenities are accessible, more people can find comfort and catharsis during a difficult time of the year.
I saw this firsthand back in March when attending the 2025 incarnation of Montreal’s Nuit Blanche; a one night only, city-supported bonanza of free or low-cost parties and art shows that last from dusk to dawn. I spent the early part of the night in a darkened museum, admiring dinosaur skeletons alongside flashlight wielding families, before taking the subway to a 1 a.m. perfume-making workshop in a loft on the edge of town. By the time I joined a sea of people in leather and spandex on the laser-lit floor of a club called Circus Afterhours, I was exhausted, but inspired.
Boston’s dreary winters might seem worlds apart from the gallivanting of other winter cities — but they don’t have to be. We just need the will to create our own wondrous civic traditions and amenities. In fact, we flirted with this idea in 2023, when the City Council held a hearing on the benefits of curating winter culture.
As we face another three dark months of solitude, it’s time for us to look beyond temporarily escaping Boston and embrace our status as a cold-weather city. Who knows? We might actually have some fun with it.
Miles Howard is a Boston-based author, journalist, and the founder of the Walking City Trails, a network of walking routes connecting over 75 green spaces across 23 city neighborhoods. Send comments to magazine@globe.com.
