In northern Sweden, 100 miles beyond the Arctic Circle, winter arrives with all the drama of a trumpet fanfare. It swaggers in as early as October and by November the whole place is in lockdown, buried beneath colossal banks of snow.

Winter here is not grey and pallid. Neither is it insipid, drizzly, and merely chilly. In northern Sweden, winter sparkles. It is sharp, bracing and carries a thrilling hint of danger. It seizes you by the throat and takes your breath away, literally, in dramatic steaming plumes. All the country’s fussy details have vanished – rivers, lakes, forests, low-lying houses, elderly people lingering too long on street corners – all gone, and in their place that fathomless whiteness, the world buried beneath wind-sculpted shapes. It is ravishingly and stunningly beautiful.

So at least I was telling my daughter, Sophia. She listened patiently to my rhapsodies, with an expression of polite scepticism.

In Britain, winter seems to be a time for hibernation, a withdrawal into cosy domesticity, the fireside and the warming Aga. But in places where winter is a serious affair, places such as northern Sweden, it is all go. I grew up in Canada, where the first snowfall was greeted with whoops of joy.

"For a child, winter is a season full of great stuff to do – and unlimited mugs of steaming hot chocolate"

For a child, winter was a season full of great stuff to do – ice skating and ice hockey, skiing and tobogganing – and unlimited mugs of steaming hot chocolate.

We live in Dorset, which is a little short on 10ft snow drifts. And so I had the idea that it was time for Sophia, nine, to experience a real winter. And all the raving about fun activities had done the trick. She had come around to the idea, though admitted to being a trifle concerned about the weather conditions.

Source: http://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/family-holidays/best-family-winter-holidays-arctic-sweden/