Discover the best time of year, based on historical climate, temperature, and precipitation.
The best weather in Jūrmala is from June, July, August, but considering flight prices and crowds, the best months to visit are June, August, September. — consistent weather climate
🌥Mild
| Score | 9 | 11 | 18 | 29 | 67 | 82 | 78 | 79 | 72 | 28 | 10 | 9 |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Climate | Polar | Polar | Cold | Cold | Mild | Mild | Humid | Humid | Mild | Cold | Cold | Cold |
| Temperature | -4–0°C | -3–2°C | -1–6°C | 2–11°C | 7–17°C | 13–22°C | 15–22°C | 14–22°C | 11–18°C | 6–11°C | 2–6°C | -1–2°C |
| Feels like | -9–-4°C | -8–-3°C | -6–1°C | -2–7°C | 5–14°C | 11–21°C | 14–22°C | 14–22°C | 9–16°C | 2–8°C | -2–2°C | -6–-2°C |
| Precipitation | 50mm 15 days | 41mm 12 days | 38mm 10 days | 44mm 10 days | 47mm 9 days | 67mm 10 days | 93mm 13 days | 86mm 11 days | 59mm 11 days | 65mm 13 days | 51mm 12 days | 45mm 13 days |
| Sunshine | 1.5h ☀︎ 20% | 3.2h ☀︎ 33% | 6.3h ☀︎ 53% | 10.0h ☀︎ 70% | 12.8h ☀︎ 78% | 13.8h ☀︎ 78% | 13.2h ☀︎ 77% | 11.3h ☀︎ 75% | 9.1h ☀︎ 71% | 4.8h ☀︎ 46% | 1.9h ☀︎ 24% | 1.2h ☀︎ 17% |
| Wind | SW · 23 km/h | SW · 22 km/h | SW · 21 km/h | NW · 21 km/h | N · 19 km/h | W · 18 km/h | W · 19 km/h | SW · 18 km/h | SW · 19 km/h | S · 22 km/h | S · 21 km/h | SW · 22 km/h |
| Humidity (%) | 86% | 83% | 76% | 72% | 68% | 70% | 75% | 76% | 78% | 82% | 87% | 87% |
| Day length | 7.5h | 9.5h | 11.9h | 14.3h | 16.5h | 17.7h | 17.1h | 15.1h | 12.8h | 10.3h | 8.1h | 6.9h |
| Tourist Crowds | Low season | Low season | Low season | Low season | Shoulder season | High season | High season | High season | Shoulder season | Low season | Low season | Low season |
This multi-day electronic music festival takes over Jūrmala's sandy beach in early August, drawing dance music fans from…
A standard weather chart points directly to June's endless daylight, but Jūrmala is truly at its best in September, when the peak-season crowds vanish and the coastal pine air cools into quiet perfection.
Stretched like a ribbon of pale quartz sand between the Gulf of Riga and the slow bend of the Lielupe River, Jūrmala is a town built entirely around the seasonal whims of the Baltic Sea. For over a century, city dwellers from Riga and holidaying elites from across the continent have retreated here to inhale the scent of salt and resin beneath towering maritime pines. The town's soul is split between two eras: ornate, lace-trimmed wooden cottages in the Art Nouveau style tucked behind sand dunes, and the hulking, brutalist concrete sanatoriums left behind from its mid-century role as the Soviet leadership's premier seaside sanatorium. When the heat arrives, Jūrmala pulses with beach clubs, outdoor concerts, and crowded boardwalks; when it cools, the coastal strip transforms into a silent, melancholic wilderness of wind and water.
Standard travel guides will almost always push you toward the long light of midsummer, but September is Jūrmala's true sweet spot. By the first week of the month, the frantic rush of family holidays and party weekends collapses back into ordinary Baltic calm. The sea retains the gentle warmth absorbed over three months of daylight, yet the sand between Majori and Dzintari empties out until you can walk for miles hearing nothing but the rustle of dry reed grass and the low rhythm of the surf.
The air carries a crispness that makes walking effortless. Afternoon temperatures hover in that comfortable realm where a light wool sweater is all you need, while the heavy thundershowers that plague midsummer give way to mild, passing drizzles. Forest trails behind the dunes turn golden, and the seaside promenade loses the carnival atmosphere of high summer, allowing the historic wooden villas along the avenues to show off their intricate, weathered carvings without an escort of honking cars. If you want the restorative, therapeutic coast that Jūrmala has traded on for two centuries, you come now.
If you arrive between June and August, you will encounter an entirely different animal. June has the strongest raw weather credentials of the year: nearly fourteen hours of bright sunshine every day, luminous white nights where twilight bleeds directly into dawn, and a steady, dry sea breeze that makes dining outdoors feel like a luxury. The town opens every shutter, bicycle lanes along Bulduri fill with families, and the long shallows of the Gulf of Riga finally invite wading.
Yet by July and August, that idyllic seaside picture gets complicated. July brings warm, sticky air paired with sharp, intense downpours that can drench the coast in heavy bursts before clearing. August, meanwhile, is the calendar's absolute saturation point. The beach reaches peak density, resort traffic bottlenecks along the single main arterial road, and quiet contemplative strolls become impossible.
August is also when the Baltic Beach Party hits the sand, bringing multi-day electronic beats, sprawling temporary dance stages, and packed seaside terraces that run until dawn. For travelers chasing nightlife and high-energy beach culture, early August is electric. For anyone drawn by the town's spa legacy or peaceful pine forests, it is sensory overload and the absolute worst time to look for peace.
May is the tentative beginning of the seaside season, an unpredictable shoulder period where the town slowly scrubs off winter grime. The sun climbs high and stays out for nearly thirteen hours a day, but the Gulf of Riga remains stubbornly cold, blowing a biting chill across the open dunes that betrays the bright blue skies.
It is a rewarding time for cyclists and solitary walkers who prefer empty paths to bustling cafés. The pine canopy in Dzintari Forest Park begins to warm and release its resinous scent on sunny afternoons, but you must dress in layers. While the sun can feel pleasantly mild on your face during midday strolls through the historic quarters, sea winds mean sitting stationary on the beach still requires a windbreaker and a thermos.
From late autumn through the spring thaw, Jūrmala goes almost completely dormant. By October, daylight drops off a cliff, dropping below five hours of weak sun a day, and steady Baltic gales strip the birch trees bare. The weather scores bottom out and remain low straight through to early spring.
Midwinter—January and February—brings sub-zero temperatures and a severe windchill straight off the frozen edges of the gulf. Great slabs of sea ice pile against the beach like broken glass, creating a desolate, lunar landscape along the tide line. The concrete sanitariums and quiet Art Nouveau streets take on an eerie, cinematic beauty under deep snow, but half the resort's services are shuttered, and the biting cold makes spending more than an hour outdoors an ordeal. Come only if you are checking into a heated indoor spa and want to look out at an uninhabited white shoreline through steam.