The Scandinavian Way of Living Well: What I'm bringing back from my trip

Four days in Copenhagen and Malmö, and the small things I am bringing home

There are places you visit for the landmarks, the restaurants, the photographs. And then there are places that make you notice your own rhythm.

That is what happened to me in Scandinavia.

I had been wanting to experience the Nordic approach to wellbeing for some time. So much of what we hear about Scandinavian living sounds almost deceptively simple: cycling instead of driving, spending time outdoors, eating well, creating beautiful and comfortable spaces, slowing down enough to enjoy a coffee. None of it sounds revolutionary on paper. Yet there is something quite different about seeing these things woven naturally into everyday life.

So I decided to spend four days between Copenhagen and Malmö, not with a packed itinerary, but with enough space to actually experience the places I was visiting.

I wanted to walk. To eat. To explore. To sit somewhere beautiful. To spend time outside. To see what happened when I allowed myself not to rush. And, perhaps unsurprisingly, that became the most valuable part of the trip.

Copenhagen, and a different rhythm

I had only 24 hours in Copenhagen, but within a few hours of arriving I understood why the city has such a reputation for quality of life.

The first thing I noticed was not a particular building or attraction. It was the rhythm.

There was a calmness to the city that felt quite inviting. Copenhagen was busy, but it did not feel frantic. People seemed to have time to walk, to cycle, to sit outside, to meet friends, to enjoy their surroundings.

I began my stay with lunch at VÆSK, a Michelin Plate restaurant in a beautiful setting. The food was one of those meals that makes you reconsider the idea that good food needs to be complicated. Everything felt incredibly fresh, beautifully prepared and considered, but there was an almost effortless quality to it.

It was the ingredients that did the work.

That simplicity stayed with me throughout the trip. There is something very Scandinavian about allowing quality to speak for itself, whether that is in food, interiors or clothing.

After lunch, I checked into WIDE Copenhagen, a beautiful hotel with that unmistakable Scandinavian aesthetic: clean, understated and elegant, without ever feeling cold. It was the kind of place where everything seemed to have been considered, but nothing appeared to be trying too hard.

I left my bags and went straight back out. And this was when I really began noticing the bicycles. They were everywhere.

People cycling to work, cycling with children, cycling to meet friends, cycling simply because that was how they moved around the city. Alongside them were people walking, sitting outside cafés and enjoying the afternoon.

There was something quite striking about seeing movement so completely integrated into everyday life.

In the UK, we often separate movement from the rest of our lives. We make time for a workout, go to a class, drive somewhere to exercise. In Copenhagen, movement seemed much less deliberate. It was simply transportation, social life and daily routine happening at the same time.

I walked towards Nyhavn, through the colourful harbour and then onwards through different neighbourhoods, stopping to look at shops and discovering some of the Scandinavian brands and boutiques along the way.

As a stylist, I was naturally drawn to the way people dressed. The same sense of ease I had noticed in the interiors was there in the clothes: beautiful cuts, muted colours, layers, natural fabrics and combinations that looked effortless rather than over-styled.

It was style without the feeling of trying to make a statement.

By the evening, I found myself in a traditional Scandinavian pub for dinner, enjoying smørrebrød, the famous Danish open-faced sandwich.

Fresh bread, beautiful ingredients and a relaxed atmosphere.

It was not a particularly extravagant evening. And that was precisely what I liked about it.

A cinnamon roll and a morning in the Botanical Gardens

The following morning, I started the day in the best possible Scandinavian way: with breakfast at Riviera Bakery. I had the classic cinnamon roll, of course.

The bakery itself was almost as memorable as the pastry. Warm tones, natural materials, a mixture of old and new, clean lines softened by details that made the space feel lived in. It had that particular quality I had been noticing everywhere: beautiful without feeling precious.

This is where the idea of hygge starts to make more sense.

We often translate hygge simply as “cosiness”, but after spending time in Denmark, that feels slightly too narrow. It is less about blankets and candles, and more about the atmosphere created around ordinary moments. Feeling comfortable. Being present. Enjoying good food. Having time for conversation. Creating spaces where you actually want to linger.

A bakery can become part of that experience.

So can your kitchen table.

So can a Sunday morning at home.

Perhaps that is why the concept has resonated so strongly outside Denmark. It is not really about buying anything. It is about how you experience what is already there.

After breakfast, I walked to the Botanical Gardens.

This was probably my favourite moment in Copenhagen.

The gardens were incredibly lush and peaceful, and the sunshine had brought everyone outside. People were strolling slowly, sitting on benches, talking, taking photographs, reading. There was no sense that anyone needed to be anywhere else.

I found myself doing exactly the same.

Walking without checking the time. Looking at the plants. Sitting for a while. Enjoying the sunshine.

There is a Danish and broader Nordic concept called friluftsliv, often translated as “open-air life”, which describes this relationship with being outside and spending time in nature.

I loved experiencing it rather than simply reading about it.

It made me think about how easily we overlook something that is available to most of us every day. We do not necessarily need a forest retreat or a weekend in the countryside. There are parks, gardens, rivers, streets and green spaces all around us.

Sometimes the most restorative part of the day can simply be stepping outside.

Across the water to Malmö

By the afternoon, it was time to leave Copenhagen and cross to Sweden.

Malmö immediately felt smaller and quieter.

I spent the rest of the day walking around the city and discovering its beautiful little streets. There were moments when it genuinely felt like stepping into a Scandinavian version of a storybook village, with charming buildings, little squares and cobbled streets that reminded me of something from Beauty and the Beast.

After a light dinner, I went back to my hotel, Home Hotel Baltzar, and slept incredibly well.

There was something about those days that seemed to make sleep easier. So much walking. So much daylight. Fresh air. No packed schedule.

The following morning, I went out again for a slow walk through central Malmö, taking my time through the park before stopping, naturally, for another bakery break.

This time it was Sankt Jakobs.

At this point, I had accepted that eating my way through Scandinavian bakeries was probably going to be part of the research.

And I was very happy with that.

The cold, the sauna and the sea

The afternoon brought the experience I had been most curious about before the trip.

I went to the open-air bath along the pier to experience the Scandinavian tradition of sauna and cold-water bathing.

I had never done contrast therapy in quite this way before, so I approached it with equal amounts of curiosity and apprehension.

I moved between the dry sauna and the cold water for four to five rounds, finishing with a short swim in the sea.

The first cold-water dip was, frankly, quite cold!

There is a moment when every part of your body tells you that getting into freezing water is a terrible idea.

But something changes when you stay with it. Your breathing settles. Your body begins to adapt. The next round feels slightly less dramatic than the first.

And by the end, I was surprised by how normal it had started to feel.

What stayed with me was not so much the intensity of the cold, but the feeling afterwards.

I felt incredibly refreshed and energised, but at the same time deeply relaxed. There was a clarity to it that is difficult to describe. I went back to the hotel that evening feeling wonderfully tired and slept exceptionally well.

I can understand why sauna and cold-water bathing are such an established part of Nordic culture.

There is something very grounding about moving between heat and cold, particularly when you are surrounded by the sea and open air. It asks you to focus on your breathing, your body and the moment you are actually in.

It also reminded me that discomfort is not always something we need to avoid.

Sometimes a little controlled discomfort can leave us feeling surprisingly capable afterwards.

Of course, you do not need to plunge into the Swedish sea to experience the principle. Many gyms and wellness centres now have saunas and cold-water facilities, and for someone who enjoys this type of experience, starting gently with sauna and a brief cold exposure can be an interesting ritual to explore.

What I am bringing home

After four days, I found myself thinking less about the specific things I had done and more about the way those things had made me feel.

The movement.

The fresh air.

The simplicity of the food.

The warmth of the cafés.

The beautiful spaces.

The pleasure of walking somewhere instead of driving.

The feeling of sitting down for a coffee and actually drinking it rather than answering emails at the same time.

None of these things are particularly exotic.

That is perhaps what makes the Nordic approach so interesting. There is no secret formula. There are simply a lot of small decisions that seem to make everyday life feel a little better. I can bring some of that home.

I can walk a little more instead of automatically reaching for the car. I can take a longer route through the park. I can create more comfortable spaces at home. I can sit down for my coffee. I can make an ordinary meal feel a little more special. I can spend time outside even when there is no particular reason to.

And I can be a little more protective of time that is not productive.

That last one may be the most difficult.

Taking care of myself before taking care of everyone else

Perhaps the most valuable part of the trip was something I had not really planned for at all: having four days where I was not needed anywhere.

There is a particular kind of tiredness that comes from constantly being responsible for things. Not necessarily the dramatic kind of exhaustion, but the quiet accumulation of messages to answer, people to support, decisions to make, work to finish and a hundred small things that remain somewhere at the back of your mind. When you are a founder, that list rarely disappears completely. There is always another email, another client, another student, another idea waiting for your attention.

I have become quite good at moving between all of those roles. Founder, stylist, wellbeing coach, lecturer, wife, friend. I enjoy all of them, and I would not want my life to look very different. But somewhere along the way, it is easy to become so accustomed to looking after everything else that you stop noticing whether you have properly looked after yourself.

Copenhagen and Malmö gave me a few days without that background noise.

I could wake up and decide where I wanted to walk. I could sit down for breakfast and stay there because I was enjoying it. I could spend an afternoon outside simply because the weather was beautiful. I could have a coffee without opening my phone. I could go back to my hotel when I was tired rather than pushing through because there was still something on the list.

None of it felt particularly indulgent. That was perhaps the most interesting part.

It felt normal.

And after four days of it, I realised how much I had needed that feeling.

I returned home feeling lighter, rested and full of ideas for the months ahead. Not because I had somehow managed to become more productive while I was away, but because I had given myself enough space to stop thinking about productivity altogether.

There is something quite powerful in that.

We often talk about self-care as though it needs to be another project to manage, another habit to build or another appointment to fit into an already crowded diary. My time in Scandinavia made me think about it differently.

Perhaps sometimes taking care of yourself is simply allowing yourself to be a person rather than a collection of roles.

To be curious.

To wander.

To eat something delicious.

To sit somewhere beautiful.

To sleep.

To have nowhere else to be.

And perhaps that is why I came home feeling so refreshed. I had not done anything extraordinary. I had simply given myself permission to be present in my own life for a few days.

That is something I would like to hold onto long after the Scandinavian autumn light has disappeared from my camera roll.

With love,

Clementine x