As a child, winter meant snow, sledding, and endless walks. In adulthood, it often turns into a series of stops: work - home - supermarket - home again. But this year I decided to change the scenario and arrange a winter mini-trip for myself... right within the boundaries of my city.

First, I made a list of places I had never been able to get my hands on: a small gallery in an old factory, the winter garden of the botanical museum, a new cafe with hot cocoa, a park with fabulous light installations. And every weekend I would choose one point on the map and go. Without a goal, without a plan, just with curiosity.

I was surprised at how much you miss when you're just in a hurry. There is a special poetry in winter streets: the air smells of smoke, frost crunches underfoot, and the light of street lamps makes even an ordinary alley look like a frame from a movie.

In the end, I realized: to feel adventure, you don’t have to fly somewhere to the end of the world. Sometimes all you need is a warm scarf, curiosity, and the willingness to leave the house to meet winter.