Sweden

Stockholm hit me differently to any city I'd visited before. Everything felt deliberate — the way the water cuts between the islands, the way the old brick buildings hold their colour even on an overcast afternoon. I spent most of my time just walking between Gamla Stan and Södermalm, getting lost in alleys, stopping at corners I hadn't planned to stop at.

The old town is smaller than it looks on a map but every lane has something — a graffiti-covered passage that opens onto a cobblestone square, the cathedral tower rising above ochre walls, a whisky bar with a taxidermied deer standing outside like a bouncer. The food was genuinely good too. Swedish meatballs with lingonberry and mashed potato at a proper restaurant, not a tourist trap — that's a plate I still think about.

The best moment was the rooftop at golden hour, looking out at the city as the sky turned orange behind City Hall and Riddarholmen. The railway tracks below, the church spire glowing, the water catching the last light — it felt like the whole city had been arranged for that one half hour. Stockholm is the kind of place that makes you want to stay a little longer than you planned.