It’s around this time every year that people start coming up with ways to manage the Pacific Northwest’s notoriously dark, damp winters, and without fail, those survival guides include the tip to get out of town. Go to Palm Springs, they say. Catch a flight to Hawaii, they yell. Well, wouldn’t that be nice, Mr. Money Bags Bags of Money?! But what do you do when you can’t physically escape Seattle’s Big Dark? You get creative. You find ways to dissociate take a vacation in your mind. Here are a few of our favorite ways to get out of our heads when the cold, the drizzle, the slick sidewalks, the existential election dread, and the endless blanket of gray get to be too much.

City Sweats’ Indoor Beach

A visit to a local sauna is a pretty obvious way to pretend you’re somewhere else. I won’t insult you by assuming you haven’t already thought of that. But did you know that most City Sweats locations HAVE THEIR OWN BEACH??? After you’re done sweating in one of their infrared booths, head to their air-conditioned back room, where you can sip complimentary hibiscus iced tea and eat orange slices in your own little cabana chair while running your toes through massive amounts of white sand. Yes! Real sand! Not the sand-pebble-toe-slicing-rock hybrid found on most local beaches. At the West Seattle location, there’s even a sweet little coastline mural painted on the wall for maximum imagination. Just cue up some ocean soundscapes in your earbuds, sit back, and relax. (Think the staff would get mad if you DoorDash a Piña Colada? There’s only one way to find out!) MEGAN SELING

Little Water Cantina

Tucked away on the south side of the ship canal, Little Water Cantina offers a respite from the unrelenting gloom of Seattle. While on stormy days, the big windows may force you to stare into the abyss of Lake Union’s choppy waters, all you have to do is turn your back to the window, and instead, soak in their mural—an exact replica of the view out the window, but on sunnier days. Plus, the heated, covered patio remains open all year round, so on clear winter nights, you can still go and enjoy the fresh air and pretend it’s just a late summer evening with a bit of a chill. I particularly love their after 9 pm happy hour on Friday and Saturday, and their liquid nitrogen margaritas. ASHLEY NERBOVIG

The Indoor Sun Shoppe

Long-time locals already know this trick, but here’s a tip for newbies: Fremont’s Indoor Sun Shoppe is a beacon of literal warmth and light and the perfect chance to recharge your sun-deprived spirit. Not only is the space filled with mood-lifting sunlamps, but every inch of the shop is lush with every kind of plant you can imagine—they hang from the ceiling, line the shelves, and sit on the floor, forming winding paths. It feels like a tropical treehouse. (I always hope a small monkey should jump down from the ceiling onto my shoulders, but that has yet to happen.) Even if you aren’t a plant person, you likely won’t want to leave empty-handed. Thankfully, the knowledgeable staff can set you up with the perfect partner, from no-maintenance and low-maintenance terrariums and cacti to carnivorous plants that look like something that was beamed down to Earth during a total eclipse of the sun. (Feed me, Seymour!) They also occasionally host workshops so you can get out of the house and socialize while soaking in all that fake sun, all of which are very good things to do for anyone starting to sink a little too deeply into the big sadness. MEGAN SELING

Inside Passage

You know that feeling when you’ve just gotten off a plane and you sidle up to a beach-side bar for your first boozy, over-the-top Vacation Drink? You can hear the palm fronds in the light evening breeze; you can smell the saltwater wafting in the air, and the orgeat and pineapple juice hides the strength of the double-proof rum you’re sipping out of an ornate tiki glass. It’s the first breath of vacation, because every single sense is telling you that you’re Somewhere Else. 

Generally, you can only capture that feeling at home by going to a tiki bar, but then you have to quiet the voice inside your head, reminding you that Tiki Culture is one giant appropriation of Polynesian, Melanesian, and Micronesian cultures. 

Enter Capitol Hill’s Inside Passage—a tiki bar without the tiki. Pass through the sliding door, and you’re in Kiki’s world: a giant kraken “that embodies the power of myth itself and grows with every tale that is told.” She lives in the Inside Passage—the sailing route from Seattle to Alaska that chooses the path between the outer islands and the mainland to avoid stormy, choppy waters.

If you don’t look too closely, Inside Passage looks like a traditional, ornate tiki bar, snatched out of the 1950s. But it’s built around Kiki’s mythology. When you sit down at the bar, her tentacles cover the ceiling above you holding tiny trinkets and rum barrels from sailors that weren’t able to survive the passage. The MOHAI-Tai is served in a Rainier can with smoked hops on the side; the One-Eyed Willy, the PNW’s most famous pirate, comes to you in a smoking treasure chest. 

The cocktail program alone is worth it—and the bartenders love to lean into the bit. But if you ask me, the real reason to come here is the genuine feeling of that first night on vacation, with your first devil-may-care drink, and the feeling that you’re Somewhere Else. HANNAH MURPHY WINTER

Eat Cake in the Bathtub

Fuck Calgon. Cake, take me away. BILLIE WINTER

If you truly want to trick your brain into believing you’re somewhere you’re not, you need to engage all five senses. For me, that means drawing a warm bath and eating a fat square of cake from Cakes of Paradise.

Here’s how to capture all the right vibes: Run a warm but not hot bath. Crank the heat and set up a fan to create a cooling breeze. (Take care not to get the electrical shit too close to the water, obviously. That is the wrong kind of escape.) For music, make a playlist of whatever reminds you of vacation. I recommend Oof! by Seattle’s own Blue Scholars, which is all about MC Geologic’s Hawaiian heritage. (“Got a drink in my cup / Selecta with the tunes / Cruzin’ with my, cruzin’ with my, cruzin’ with my crew.”) Drop in a bath bomb that smells like coconut and maybe some of those tablets that turn the water blue, and set up a slideshow on your laptop that cycles through beachy, tropical scenes. Finally, grab that cake and climb in.

But really, it’s all about the cake. There’s an undeniable transportive quality to Cakes of Paradise’s desserts. Their guava, mango, and rainbow sponge cakes—topped with tart, salivary-gland-tickling fruit gel, and a generous layer of light whipped cream—taste like rays of sunshine. Even without all the scene-setting hullabaloo, you will feel like you’re somewhere bright, warm, and sweet with every perfect bite. Fuck Calgon. Cake, take me away. MEGAN SELING