My overall goal these days is less buying and more doing. Of course, the line between the two is not always rigid, experiences and hobbies often also involve consumption, but work with me here. When reflecting on that noble goal, I realised that my ‘best offs’ mostly focus on things and that I should broaden my perspective on this front as well. I have to admit that compared to books where I have a bit more expertise, many of my favourites in other categories are rather basic. This is not a problem for me, I’m just warning you that you that there’ll be no hidden gems here.

Getting back to the gym. After a rather messy relationship with training since leaving Brussels, I got back to regular strength training last year. I am very happy and proud about this, especially as I am training on my own these days. I am lifting almost as heavy as I was during my best days about five years ago, hoping to reach 100kg deadlift this year. If I managed to get back to boxing as well, my life would be complete.

Reading the FT on weekends. Every Saturday (or sometimes Sunday, if I’m busy or travelling) I go out and buy the Financial Times’ Weekend Edition. I still like to read physical newspapers but doing it every day isn’t realistic or something I necessarily want. So I keep it for the weekends and have chosen FT as my go-to, mostly for its Life & Arts section – I have always liked their coverage of culture, which one would perhaps not expect to be as good and broad as it is. I’ve gotten so used to my little FT habit that I become rather irritated if something prevents me from sticking to it.

Incas, condors and pisco sours. The longest trip I had last year was to Peru. We were pressed for time, being limited by our daughter’s school holiday, but it was a great 10 days nevertheless. Peru is one of those countries that has something for everyone – fascinating history, great food, amazing nature. It also means that if you don’t have four weeks, you need to make some tough choices. Based on my limited experience – as we had to leave out the Amazon and northern Peru entirely -, I would say that Machu Picchu and the Colca Canyon are must-sees. But perhaps my favourite moment was much less grand: eating empanadas in the middle of a small town on the Peruvian plain, from a huge oven where everyone can get their empanadas or guinea pigs baked/grilled for a modest fee.

Half of the Balkans. Closer to home, we decided to take advantage of J’s presence in Greece and spend a week travelling through Northern Greece, Southern Bulgaria, North Macedonia and Albania. I have been obsessed with these places since reading Kapka Kassabova’s books – Border and To the Lake in particular. We started in Thessaloniki, drove to the Rhodope mountains in Bulgaria, then back to Greece to see the tomb of Philip II of Macedon, visit Florina and Ioannina, then to the lakes of Ohrid and Prespa and finally driving from Gjirokaster to Tirana via the Albanian coast. I enjoyed this trip immensely, but I would probably not recommend it to everyone. These parts are not particularly glamorous; the nature is beautiful, but you can find more dramatic mountains and larger lakes, if you want. However, if you enjoy places with a layered history and wilder, less touristy charm, it could be for you.

Marie Antoinette at the V&A. L and I, on the other hand, went to see the Marie Antoinette exhibition at the Victoria & Albert Museum in London. V&A is one of my favourite museums, as I love applied art and they are very good at creating blockbuster exhibitions. The Marie Antoinette one is no exception, combining stunning dresses and artefacts with smart commentary on the French queen’s legacy. If you hurry, you can still see it: the exhibition is open until 22 March, although the only way to access it is to become a V&A member (it is fully sold out otherwise). If you miss this one, however, the new Schiaparelli exhibition opens on 28 March and will surely also be amazing.

Henriette Sabroe Ebbesen at Fotografiska. Back in Tallinn, my favourite art experience was Henriette Sabroe Ebbesen’s exhibition Kaleidoscope. I admit that I’m biased, as I was invited to participate in a panel at the opening event. But I did genuinely like both Henriette and her otherworldly, painterly photographs. Her striking visuals are informed by her contemplation of identity, science and the world, which is my favourite type of art. If you have an opportunity to see her work somewhere, I highly recommend it.

Sinners. I have been watching so few movies recently that it’s seriously embarrassing and last year was the worst. Ryan Coogler’s Sinners was pretty much the only proper movie that I saw, but if I was going to see only one movie in 2025, Sinners was not a shabby choice. I love both genre fiction and genre movies and I also love it when genre is approached in a fresh, potentially more intellectual way. What I do NOT like, however, is when these more ‘serious’ genre movies (or books or other pieces of art) seem to be embarrassed by their origins or pretend that they have invented something completely new. Sinners does not do either of those things, it is a proper vampire movie, while also being thought-provoking and a visual feast. It also has twice the usual amount of Robert B. Jordan, which is obviously a very good thing.

Heated Rivalry. Talking about genre stuff done right, Jacob Tierny’s gay hockey series is surely one of the best examples of recent times. Based on Rachel Reid’s MM romance book, it takes a well-loved but under-appreciated genre and shows everyone why romance is so powerful and how to do it in the 21 Century. I watch almost no TV and haven’t for years, but as soon as I saw the buzz around this series, I knew I had to see it. And see it I did, several times. There is so much Heated Rivalry discourse out there that I do not want to add to it (trust me, I could go on for days), but it gives me hope that as a species, we are still able to recognise and respond to things that are genuine. If you are somehow still untouched by the buzz, please watch it even if you aren’t particularly drawn to neither hockey nor gay romance.

Rosalia’s Lux. 2025 was an excellent year for women in pop, whatever kind you like: from Taylor Swift to Lady Gaga, Sabrina Carpenter to Lily Allen, from Raye to Addison Rae to Olivia Dean to Florence + The Machine to FKA Twigs. My personal favourite, unshockingly, was Rosalia’s fourth album. I am a simple girl: I hear a string arrangement (as on Berghain), I like it. And I do also appreciate a bold, creative mixture of influences delivered with aplomb. I enjoy every single song on this album and Rosalia’s recent BAFTA performance only confirmed my conviction that she is one of the greats.

Nick Cave at the Luxembourg Philharmonie. While I unfortunately didn’t manage to see Rosalia’s performance with my own eyes, I DID see – and hear – Nick Cave on tour in Luxembourg. I am not really a Cave fan girl: I do like him and the bits of his music I know, but I am mostly aware of him thanks to his wife and Kylie Minogue (I was properly obsessed with Where the Wild Roses Grow when it came out). But it’s easy to see why he is so loved: the intimate concert with just him on the piano accompanied by the electric guitar was excellent even without knowing most of the songs. He is such an intelligent, charming entertainer and the music is deliciously dark.

Matthew Bourne’s Swan Lake. If there is one thing I watch much more here in Luxembourg than I used to in Brussels or Tallinn, it’s contemporary dance. The Grand Theatre here has an amazing programme, which last year also included Matthew Bourne’s iconic take on Swan Lake. It’s been 30 years since it came out, so Bourne brought it out again to celebrate the anniversary. I of course knew that all the swans in this version are male, but I somehow thought the ballet itself would still be classic, which is not the case – it is a contemporary take, although the music remains the same and the plot is roughly similar to the original story. I admit I did not love the more comedic elements of the performance, but the swans are amazing (and, in the case of the corps de ballet, menacing). I fully understand why it’s a modern classic.

Writing. Perhaps most importantly for myself, I did manage to get some writing done in 2025. Much less than I would have wanted to, but I did finish a short story and submitted it to the editors of an SFF story collection. It was accepted and will hopefully be published at some point this year. That said, I care less about being published than I do about keeping writing, so I am trying keep the momentum going in 2026.

What did you enjoy in 2025? Or in the beginning of this year, considering that the first quarter is almost over?

The cover picture is taken at the Lake Peipus in Estonia. We spent a few days last summer driving along the shore of this lake of my childhood and honestly, it would have deserved a separate entry above. But I had stop at some point, so I’m settling for an image.