Ten cosy winter city breaks for two

Some cities merely tolerate winter; others were clearly designed for it. Short days become an asset when they mean lamplight by four, an aperitif by five and no guilt whatsoever about spending the afternoon in a café. The ten cities below all embrace the season properly — with markets, fires, steamed-up windows and food built for the temperature. Pack proper boots rather than fashionable ones, book restaurants ahead for December weekends, and remember the golden rule of winter travel: the cold is the point.

Imperial Vienna treats winter as high season: balls, concerts, and coffee houses where a hot chocolate and a slice of Sachertorte constitute a legitimate afternoon plan. Skate the sprawling ice ribbon in front of the neo-Gothic Rathaus, catch the Vienna Boys' Choir at Sunday mass, and go in January — the Christmas market crowds vanish but the ball season and the café culture roll gloriously on.

The city that invented hygge as a lifestyle demonstrates it best in the dark months: candlelit wine bars, blankets on café chairs, cinnamon buns as currency. Tivoli Gardens transforms into a fairy-lit winter wonderland from mid-November, and Nyhavn's coloured townhouses look their painterly best under low winter sun. Warm up Danish-style with a harbour sauna session after a swim — bracing, but you'll talk about it for years.

Gothic spires, firelit pubs and a castle looming out of the haar — Edinburgh in winter is pure atmosphere. Climb Calton Hill for a 3.30pm sunset over the whole smoky skyline, thaw out with a whisky flight in a snug bar off the Royal Mile, and eat by the fire in a Stockbridge bistro. Hogmanay is the famous blowout, but early December, all fairy lights and quiet closes, is the sweeter deal.

Self-declared Capitale de Noël since 1570, and the title is deserved: half-timbered Petite France under fairy lights, a market spread across a dozen squares and a cathedral rising pink and improbable above it all. Drink vin chaud beside the canals, eat choucroute in a centuries-old winstub and take the Alsace wine route to Colmar for a second helping. Book accommodation months ahead for December — the secret is comprehensively out.

Mozart's city under snow is close to theatrical parody: baroque domes, a clifftop fortress, market stalls smelling of gingerbread in the cathedral square. Hear a Mozart concert in the Marble Hall of the Mirabell Palace, ride the funicular up to Hohensalzburg for the white-roofed panorama, and drink glühwein where the Christkindlmarkt has stood since the fifteenth century. The Krampus parades in early December add a pleasing note of menace.

Poland's old royal capital ringed in snow: the vast Rynek Główny with its Christmas market and bugle call from the basilica tower, Wawel Castle above the frozen Vistula, and cellar bars everywhere heated to tropical levels. Eat pierogi and drink hot honeyed vodka — grzaniec — for shockingly little, and take the atmospheric night walk through Kazimierz, the old Jewish quarter, ending in a candlelit café that hasn't changed since 1910.

The closest thing to a European old town in North America, buried under proper snow from December to March. The Château Frontenac presides over lanes of stone houses and glowing shopfronts, a toboggan run has hurtled along the Dufferin Terrace since 1884, and from January you can drink cocktails in an actual ice hotel. Come during February's Winter Carnival, and pack for minus twenty — the cold here is not a metaphor.

Prague under snow is its best self: the Old Town Square market glowing beneath the Týn Church's gothic spires, trdelník smoke in the air and pubs pouring the world's best lager at slipper prices. Cross Charles Bridge at first light when the statues wear white caps, warm up in Café Louvre where Kafka once did, and book an evening concert in a baroque palace. January halves the crowds and keeps all of the atmosphere.

Stockholm leans into the dark with candles in every window and a fika culture that makes cinnamon buns a twice-daily duty. Wander Gamla Stan's ochre lanes under the Advent stars, skate the ice-blue afternoon away at the Kungsträdgården rink, and take the ferry to Djurgården with the archipelago in monochrome. Book a sauna-and-plunge session at Hellasgården for the full Swedish winter — the scream is traditional, the afterglow is the point.

A Habsburg old town with the Nordkette range rearing two thousand metres straight behind it: in Innsbruck you can browse the Christmas market beneath the Golden Roof at four and be above the clouds by cable car at five, prosecco in hand on the Seegrube terrace. Winter walkers get groomed panoramic paths; skiers get nine areas on one pass. Stay in the medieval Altstadt and book the Bergisel ski-jump tower café for coffee with the Alps' best view.