There’s something magical about winter in Amsterdam, especially on Museumplein. I remember stepping onto the square and seeing the ice rink sparkling under the lights, the majestic Rijksmuseum in the background making it feel like a scene from a snow globe. Families were everywhere, kids laughing, parents wobbling on skates and the sound of blades scraping across the ice mixed with cheerful music.

I didn’t skate that day, but I didn’t mind. Instead, I found a cozy spot by the edge of the rink with a steaming cup of Glühwein in hand. From where I sat, I watched little ones gripping penguin-shaped skating aids, their faces lighting up every time they managed a few steps without falling. Their parents were just as entertaining—some gracefully circling the rink, others gripping the rail for dear life and laughing at themselves.