1. Morning Light and Granite Sparkle
Aberdeen greeted me with a gentle breeze and a soft, overcast glow that felt very Scottish in the best way. The streets, still quiet in the early morning, shimmered slightly under the light rain from the night before. It was just past 9 a.m. when I stepped outside my hotel near Union Terrace Gardens. The granite buildings, iconic to Aberdeen’s identity, seemed to absorb and reflect the sky in a way that made even the simplest corner shimmer with quiet dignity.
I wasn’t in a rush. The idea was simple: to meander, discover, and enjoy a full day of shopping—with regular, perhaps indulgent, pauses for tea or coffee. I didn’t follow a strict itinerary. I wanted to be led by curiosity, drawn to windows that caught my eye, smells that pulled me inside, and, ideally, a few hidden spots I hadn’t read about before.
2. Union Street: Tradition with a Twist
I began my stroll on Union Street, Aberdeen’s main artery of commerce. Its long stretch of grey stone facades houses both high street regulars and more local gems tucked into side alleys. The street buzzed as shops opened their doors and early commuters passed with hurried steps and takeaway cups.
My first stop was Books and Beans—a cozy café-bookshop hybrid I had marked down the night before. Located on Belmont Street, just a short detour from Union Street, it offered what I needed to begin: warmth, caffeine, and a quiet place to get my bearings. I ordered an oat milk cappuccino and a fresh blueberry scone, still warm from the oven. The cappuccino had a velvety smoothness and a light nutty aroma that paired beautifully with the tartness of the berries.
Around me, people read in worn armchairs and tapped at laptops. The bookshelves were stocked with an eclectic selection—used novels, political biographies, Scottish history. I lingered longer than planned, eventually purchasing a slim volume of poems by Edwin Morgan.
3. The Bon Accord Centre: Heart of the Modern Scene
Re-energized, I made my way north to The Bon Accord Shopping Centre. The transition from old to new was seamless. The sleek glass-fronted exterior gave way to a bustling interior packed with shops ranging from fashion to beauty to home goods.
I wandered into John Lewis & Partners, not for anything specific but because it felt like a rite of passage. Their seasonal displays were immaculate—scented candles in rich autumn spices, tartan throws, minimalist kitchenware that felt both functional and aspirational.
In the beauty section, a consultant at the Chanel counter offered me a complimentary skin analysis and makeup touch-up. I hesitated at first but accepted, intrigued by the chance to freshen up. Twenty minutes later, I looked in the mirror and almost didn’t recognize the polished version of myself. I left with a small, dangerously-priced bottle of fragrance I didn’t need but knew I’d use to remember this trip.
Nearby, Jo Malone called to me with its sophisticated, subtle scents. The consultant there, dressed in a crisp black apron, took the time to guide me through layered combinations. I walked out wearing a blend of Wood Sage & Sea Salt with Peony & Blush Suede on my wrist—something cool and earthy, yet warm.
4. The Second Cup and a Pause at Café Cognito
After two hours of browsing, my arms held two modest bags, and my feet were beginning to protest. I made my way toward Café Cognito on St Swithin Street, a short drive or 20-minute walk away. This spot came highly recommended for its baked goods and calm ambiance.
Inside, the atmosphere was refined but welcoming. Light jazz played softly in the background, and the scent of cardamom and cinnamon lingered in the air. I ordered a pot of Earl Grey and a slice of pistachio cake with rose icing. The tea came in a porcelain teapot with matching cups, a small detail that felt thoughtful and grounding. The pistachio cake was a revelation—light, moist, delicately nutty, and beautifully balanced by the floral sweetness of the rose.
I sat by the window, watching passersby under umbrellas, some talking quickly, others walking slowly, as though they too were savoring the day. My journal came out of my bag. I found myself jotting down small moments: the quiet in Books and Beans, the gleam of polished counters in Bon Accord, the feeling of fragrance on skin that smells like the sea and something more ancient.
5. Rosemount Viaduct and Local Artisans
The afternoon called for something more unique. I ventured toward Rosemount Viaduct, an area with a more independent, creative spirit. Here, small boutique stores sit between florists, cheese shops, and bespoke tailors. It’s where the personality of the city seems to come through more vividly.
At Curated Aberdeen, a market-like space run by local artists and makers, I discovered handmade jewellery, natural soaps, and prints of local landmarks. I spent over an hour speaking with a local artist who painted miniature landscapes of the Cairngorms in ink and watercolor. I purchased a small piece depicting a misty loch surrounded by heather. She wrapped it in brown paper and tied it with twine, sealing it with a wax stamp. That felt personal in a way no department store could mimic.
Across the road, a store named Juniper drew me in. Known for its eco-conscious ethos and modern Scottish design, it sold wool throws, candles, hand-blown glass, and design-forward stationery. I bought a Harris Tweed coin purse and a small notebook with hand-pressed paper that felt too beautiful to write in.
6. Late Afternoon and the Aroma of Cultured Ground
My last coffee break came at The Cult of Coffee, a place that wears its name well. The baristas here treat coffee with an almost academic devotion. I asked for their recommendation, and they served me a V60 pour-over of a single-origin Ethiopian roast with bright acidity and berry notes. No milk, no sugar, just clean, nuanced flavor. It wasn’t coffee to drink casually—it demanded attention. With it, I had a pear tart with a subtle almond crust. Quiet jazz hummed once again. Maybe it was the time of day for it.
People around me were clearly regulars, chatting with the baristas about bean origins and brewing techniques. One couple had their dog curled under the table, asleep. It all felt very Aberdeen—refined, a little reserved, but deeply affectionate once you settle in.
7. Twilight in the West End
With the day wearing down, I walked westward. The streets here curved gently, and the houses turned residential—Victorian townhomes, narrow lanes, lush gardens. My bags were heavier now, and so were my steps. I passed a florist closing up, the smell of eucalyptus and peonies lingering in the breeze.
I didn’t head straight back. I wandered, letting the city’s rhythm carry me. A shop window glowed with vintage maps and globes. Another displayed antique jewellery, some from the Edwardian era. There was something grounding about these streets—an elegance not showy, but enduring.
Eventually, I made my way back to the city centre. The streetlights flickered on as the last light faded behind the rooftops. A man played violin near the Union Terrace Gardens entrance, his music echoing slightly off the granite walls. I paused for a moment to listen before continuing on.
The day had been simple in structure: walk, shop, pause, sip, repeat. But in the spaces between, it became something much fuller—about noticing, about lingering, about letting a city reveal itself slowly through its coffee, its commerce, and its care.
