It is not often that we allow only five days for an entire country, but our preference to linger was just not possible in Serbia. We had come off of five weeks of intensive work in Catalonia but had a few days to spare before our next determined destination. Serbia was chosen only because it made for a logical route. (And because we had never been there before. YES – we admit it – sometimes we fall prey to the inclination to rack up our number of countries visited. Serbia is the fifty-seventh country that we’ve traveled in together.)
We were exhausted, it was oppressively hot, and I was still struggling with my level of energy. Serbia didn’t really stand a chance with me. Thankfully, Pete has no qualm with venturing out on his own, so he packed his camera around both Belgrade and Novi Sad and reported back with his results. I joined him on the odd excursion (mostly in search of food), but otherwise largely lived through his lens. He said that Serbia reminded him of when we lived in a non-touristy part of Slovenia several years ago. A place where if you don’t look closely you may miss how beautiful it is. He appreciated the simplicity in the architecture and the subtle changes that are being made to open it wider for tourism. That statement didn’t surprise me; he’s always drawn to places in transformation.
My single most vivid memory was upon our arrival late at night in the capital city of Belgrade. Our taxi driver flew down the freeway from the airport to the city with the windows down. I welcomed the cool air and was surprised by the strong scent of lilacs. I assumed it was an air freshener. Sure enough, one dangled from his rearview mirror, but it was faded and with worn edges. It had been there awhile.
When we arrived at our hotel on the edge of Belgrade’s famed fortress, I stepped out into the humid air. I inhaled deeply and the floral scent continued to swirl inside my nostrils. It’s the city itself, I realized, and was immediately charmed by the fragrant introduction.
It is said that of all the senses, smell is most closely linked with memory. So if Serbia is to be impressed in my consciousness by this one thing, then neither the country nor myself can be disappointed by that.
belgrade
At one point in history, the entire population of Belgrade lived within the walls of its famed fortress (dating back to 3rd century BC). Given the strategic location of Serbia, it has seen its share of sieges and wars over the years. Since the break-up of Yugoslavia and the final removal of the leader Slobodan Milosevic in late 2000, the country reestablished its membership in the UN and is preparing to join the EU.
Visually, its capital city remains rough around the edges. A friend told me that upon her visit to Belgrade, she likened it to Bucharest. Pete and I both felt that too. It may not be as compact and pretty as the oft-favoured Novi Sad to the north, but it has that feeling of a gritty up-and-comer. Belgrade should not be ignored.
Sunset along a stone path at the Belgrade Fortress.A viewpoint from the Belgrade Fortress.A lookout from the Belgrade church.Black and white portraits of famous Serbians can be found all over the city. This one was very near our hotel.Lots of vivid street art can be found in Belgrade.Skadarlija is known as the “bohemian” area and there are plenty of restaurants and other attractions here.
Novi Sad
Several people had told us not to bother with Belgrade (as you can see from the above, we were glad we did). They said it was known most for its party boat scene (it probably is), and that the trip north to Novi Sad would put us in an environment more to our liking.
They weren’t wrong. It’s very scenic, compact and digestible, and also often smelled of lilacs. If we had had the luxury to linger, it probably would have been here.
Path to the Novi Sad Fortress.Novi Sad Old TownNovi Sad Cathedral at night.
I read somewhere that because Serbia had been a bit neglected over the years, the Serbs themselves are just starting to rediscover parts of their country. Even with our brief encounter, it did feel like somewhere that a lot of time could be spent, and that there are a lot of stories yet to be told. Until next time.
where we stayed
In Belgrade we stayed at the charming Crystal Villa Kalemegdan. It was very near the fortress and a short walk to all other main attractions. The room itself was large and with a passable level of comfort – what made this place for us were the very attentive staff who were very helpful and charming!
While in Novi Sad, we enjoyed this Airbnb apartment. Our experience was seamless, and the apartment was spotless and comfortable. Highly recommended!
We flew into Whitehorse later than scheduled, landing on the cliffside strip just after midnight. The small airport was busy with arrivals but we were able to retrieve our luggage and get out quickly. The drive to the airport hotel was short and there was little to be seen in the darkness, but at once I commented on the one thing that drew me to the scene immediately.
Trees. And plenty of them. Given the bareness of the landscape we now live on in southern Alberta, being surrounded by evergreens always provides comfort and brings me back to the perspective of my youth. It makes a place immediately liveable to me. I didn’t know it at the time, especially given the haze of late-night travel, but that concept would pop up repeatedly during our five day visit to this largest capital city in northern Canada.
During a dog fashion show, soon to be followed by a dog-howling contest, we met Jon. He was a burly figure with a long white beard, muscular stature, and full leather bush hat. Seemingly out of character, Jon held a small, New Guinea Singing dog in his arms, waiting to give him a chance to perform. While we jointly applauded the passing doggies dressed up as a lobster and Batman and a ballerina, Pete struck up a conversation with him.
Jon was from Texas but ended up in the Yukon via Alaska. A thru-and-thru outdoorsman, he met his female match there and followed her across the border. The two of them would escape into the wilderness for months at a time, surviving solely off of the land and each other. When Pete and I expressed our appreciation and admiration for such a lifestyle, he didn’t hesitate to offer up an extended stay, sharing his email and phone number immediately.
Would you ever consider living anywhere else? I tried to ask, but before I finished my question Jon’s head shook from side to side and was followed by an emphatic no. It was clear, for this adventurous man who lived thousands of miles away from the land of his birth, he had found his home.
It was clear, that thousands of miles away from the land of his birth, Jon had found his home.
We met Patrick on our last full day as he guided us via snowmobile from one frozen lake to another, amid frosted trees and on a barely groomed path. He patiently assisted Pete and I as we got stuck in the same spot on the outward journey and the return, but to us, at that moment, Patrick had a seemingly perfect job. The sky was a crisp blue with few scattered clouds, the day was unseasonably warm, and our small group of trip participants were all friendly and eager to enjoy the day. He led us to a spot on Caribou Lake prepared for our arrival, complete with a fire pit and patch of ice surrounded by hockey sticks. After Pete helped Patrick clear the latest drifts of snow, we all enjoyed an impromptu game of pick-up.
After the game, the crowd dispersed to explore other corners of the lake. Patrick and I sat around the fire with our feet resting on its edge and our boots removed; the warmth of the flames evaporated the moisture built up in our socks. The conversation quickly turned to his life near Whitehorse, and what brought him there from southern France.
At a young age, Patrick read a book about the vast wilderness of the Yukon that prompted his obsession with the territory. He visited many years later, several times, and knew that it was indeed home. He once returned with the sole purpose of disappearing into the hinterland for 3 months (his then-girlfriend came with him at the start, sure that she was paying witness to “the place he was going to die at”). He survived that trip, obviously, but was forever-more married to the land.
Patrick now lived there with his wife and 5 year old daughter. Their newly built house was days from being finished. He relayed all the details that made this ideal for him: the small and close-knit community, the fact that Whitehorse quite remarkably had any big city amenities his family could ever need, and of course the vast swaths of nature that was theirs to play in daily. Asked if he would ever consider living elsewhere, his answer was as quick and adamant as Jon’s had been.
Never.
Chris had clearly consumed a few drinks prior to our meeting, but to be fair, he was not alone. Pete and I estimated to be part of a small handful of people who were not specifically well-lubed to enjoy the evening.
In an expansive and warmed tent the seats were packed and all eyes were fixated on the stage at the far end. What we were witnessing was the final test for candidates of the Sourdough Sam contest, one of the pinnacle events for the Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous Festival. Throughout the prior weeks, those who answered the call as “smooth talking, good timing, high stepping primo Yukon males” were put through rigorous and public analysis on a variety of tasks. On that night, when a final Sam would be knighted, the contestants would show their skills of strutting in dresses and bathing suits. The event was complimented with can-can dancers (in snowshoes no less) and several other acts. It appeared the whole community was in attendance. And it was, simply stated, highly entertaining.
Chris sat just behind us and was clearly intrigued with Pete’s large camera. He was young, not far out of high school, and was curious as to what brought us there and caused us to feverishly record the evening’s events. We told a brief version of our story, but quickly began to gush about how much we were enjoying our visit. We told of the many people we had met, and the repeated strong affirmations we had received about each resident’s ongoing desire to live there. How it appeared a challenging landscape and climate that may not appeal to everyone, but that there was clearly an undeniable magic that kept people in the Yukon.
Chris gushed too (I’m not sure I’ve ever heard the use of the word awesome so much in one conversation), but also admitted that he wanted to leave. It is awesome here, he said, but he wanted to get out and travel.
Growing up in a far northern town myself, I understood the draw away to see. Perhaps more than most people. But from the brief research we had done on this trip, I expected that he would return.
Go and see the world, I said, it will make you appreciate what you have here even more.
how to do it
The primary reason for our visit to the Yukon was to attend events related to the Yukon Sourdough Rendezvous Festival. We barely graced it (it is a HUGE event), but from what we did see, we know we want to see more. Held every February, it is meant to celebrate an emergence from winter, and is extremely popular among locals and tourists alike. As we were told, it is a great slice of Yukon culture!
There will be more to come on how to do winter in the Yukon (properly!), but one way for sure is to get out on a snowmobile. This very fun trip to Caribou Lake was arranged by Inn on the Lake, where we spent one night. It is about a half hour drive from Whitehorse, and was a charming boutique lodge that included intimate family-style dinners and an array of tours.
The island of Kalsoy stretches north like a slender finger – the southern end reachable by ferry and the opposite by a single one-lane paved road from the port. The ratio of sheep to people that we met on that road was probably one thousand to one, so beside the occasional showdown with a gang of the wooly creatures daring us to contest their blockage of the pavement, we cruised with little to slow us. Although we did feel the frequent need to stop and record the scenes before us. Clumps of colored houses in the four communities encountered along the way, some black with tar to better stand the weather, some with traditional grass roofs and the odd sprig of yellow daffodils growing on them. A beautiful statue of the Seal Woman in Mikladalur and the legend of her heartbreak and revenge on a local community. A waterfall that roared near her feet.
We had plenty of time between ferries to get to the most northern tip. And with just one highway, there was no need for a map for our trip to the small island.
Or so we thought.
Trøllanes, a town of 20 inhabitants at the northern tip of the island, was our ultimate destination and the reason that Kalsoy was on our must-see list to begin with. Not exactly for the town itself (although worthy in its own right), but for a spot that could not be seen upon arrival. Somewhere, over one of the hills that surrounded, would be this view of a distant lighthouse that we wanted to capture for ourselves.The day shaped up perfect for our arrival – only minor skirmishes with rain and patches of blue sky were even pushing through. We came into town and found an announcement board that we were sure would have the instructions on where to find the lighthouse. Or maybe even a map, or maybe we would even soon see a visible path.
Instead, we saw none of the above. Only the pretty little town and a very scant idea where to go based on what we had previously read.
So, we started walking.
An hour later, feet soaked and caked in sheep shit, we were back at the bottom of the hill just to the west of town. Pete gestured a bit further south, believing that we had passed over the correct starting point. I wondered if it was instead the mountain to the east. Wherever it was, it wasn’t where we were. And big billowy grey clouds began to intermittently spit rain. I couldn’t get a solid connection to research on my phone and to start over again somewhere else would likely mean we’d run out of daylight anyways. We gave up our quest. But the funny thing was, we weren’t disappointed. (Well, maybe a little, but that didn’t last long.)
Because we grabbed a snack out of the car, and sat on a cliff, and stared out at the Norwegian Sea, and wondered if we could throw a rock hard enough straight over the Arctic, would it hit Alaska or Russia or fall right into the Bering Strait? We had sheep stare at us intently, I debated testing a path that wrapped around the side of another mountain (Pete talked me out of it based on the swift drop to the sea that would happen with one misstep), and the sun briefly found us once again.
We took a slow drive back to the ferry, stopping again to catch new photos at new angles of light on Kalsoy.
We learned later that we had been going the right way, but just had not gone far enough. We sighed in disappointment, slightly chastised the regional tourism for not putting up signs or a path or anything to help us get there, but then, a few minutes later, realized we were actually happy for it.
In this world of carved up paths for tourists to follow, how often are we left to forge our own?
How often do we get to tramp into the wild to find (or not find) a worthy sight?
Not often enough, I tell you. But that is what a true adventure should be about. And that is what we found in Kalsoy.
how to do it
Driving into the town of Trøllanes, you’ll arrive at a T intersection. Park on the right, but then walk left at that T, and keep walking straight and up and up. You should find the lighthouse. (So we’ve since been told.) Such is the case often while hiking in the Faroe Islands – do your research before hand!
where to stay
High-end Hotel Foroyar is about a 5-10 minute drive from the Tórshavn city center, but the distance provides fantastic views over the city, harbor, and islands!
Mid-range Hotel Hafina is located in the Tórshavn city center, and according to the reviews has amazing views and great food!
Budget Guesthouse Marknagil is great for budget-seekers. This guesthouse is 30 minutes from town but provides everything needed to have a wonderful stay on the Faroe Islands.
It is of dreams, this place. Relatively unknown to tourists, Caribbean blue waters, and a bargain at every purchase. Before even unpacking our bags in Saranda we bragged on every network of this view that we would enjoy for three weeks.
We surmised on our last day, as we walked on the boardwalk under the hot spring sun, that we had probably just come a month too early, for what makes Saranda a paradise also makes it a bit of a torment. With very few tourists to contend with at this time of year, it also meant that little tourism infrastructure was in place.
We would have loved the opportunity to get out into the bay on kayaks but that was not available. We had our choice of just a handful of restaurants. Twice we climbed up to Lekursi Castle, and both times it was closed to visitors. When it’s off-season in Albania, it is quite literally off-season in Albania, more so than any other country we’ve been in.
View from Lekursi Castle
The view did help, mind you, with morning coffee or afternoon cocktail in hand, and in between the mountain of behind-the-scenes work that we finally got to. When we did venture out we cruised the boardwalk between the frequent spring rain spells, past the vendors selling raw sunflower seeds scooped out of decorative tins.
We sat for drinks at one of the many open cafes (there is an incredible number of cafe/bars in this country, compared to actual restaurants), and eavesdropped on old men dressed in impeccable suits, ties and smart hats, just out to stroll in the streets and gossip with their friends on park benches.
But we did find ourselves getting a little restless.
What makes Saranda a paradise also makes it a bit of a torment.
It wasn’t until our last week that we struck out to explore more of the area – auspiciously choosing the very best day of weather since our arrival (largely because we both defiantly slept past the alarm the day before).
The rental car owner had warned us that our single-day plans were too ambitious, and he was right. The roads, while in relatively good condition, consistently wound up and down the coast and into the mountains that skirted it, keeping our speed minimal.
Pete took great pleasure in gliding around curves with few other cars to contend with, but he did always have to be mindful of other traffic – sheep, goats, cows, donkeys, people riding horses, a lady with an axe, and the occasional washout or pile of crumbled rocks. We didn’t get as far north or inland as was recommended but really could not claim disappointment with our day in the slightest.
This is how far we got.
Albanian Riviera Road Trip
Butrint
Less than 20km south of Saranda is the ancient city of Butrint, one of only two UNESCO sites in Albania (Berat being the other), containing artifacts and structures that date all the way back to the Bronze Age.
Of all the ancient ruins we’ve visited over the years, this small site is placed firmly among our favourites. With few other tourists to contend with, and in its natural swampy state inviting frogs and turtles to live among the ruins, we could have wiled away much more time enjoying Butrint if we didn’t have such a heavy day of touring planned.
Ksamil
Just north of Butrint is dreamy Ksamil – and it was in this tiny town that we declared that we had finally found the nicest beach in all of Europe. There are even three islands within swimming distance which become busier in summer with plenty of restaurants and bars. We were lucky to find one open during our off-season stop.
Monastery Beach
If Ksamil is too busy in the summer months, then just south of Saranda is secretive Monastery Beach. It is rocky in comparison, but also practically deserted. It takes a good climb up and down a steep hill to get there (I wouldn’t try to drive it!), and looks to be a very good spot for swimming.
The Blue Eye
Heading inland from Saranda we found the Blue Eye, a hypnotic spot where the Bistrice river begins (we had never seen the actual start of a river before). Clear blue water bubbles up into a pool more than 50 meters deep and begins its glide to the Ionian Sea.
Along the Coast
Heading north from Saranda, we had the intention of getting as far as Himare but didn’t quite make it. We had clearly underestimated the number of photo stops we would make along the way, and it was slow going as the road consistently dipped nearly seaside and then back up again, along thin mountain edges.
We made stops at nearly every available turnout, and even had one local graciously invite Pete up to his terrace for a better view.
The best part was that from beach level, we could still see snow-capped mountains in the distance. As lovers of both peaks and sea, the Albanian Riviera might just be our favourite place to get both.
How to Get Around the Albanian Riviera
It is possible to see all of the above via public transportation, but not in one day. Renting a car in Saranda is easy as there are several places to do so, and most of them can be found near the port.
Where to Stay on the Albanian Riviera
You want that gorgeous view in Saranda too? Then look no further than this steal of a deal we found with Airbnb. It is a modern and comfortable 1 bedroom apartment in an excellent location, and the owners were very hospitable and helpful.
She approached very gingerly as I sat on the edge of my seat.
I was ready to pounce and shower love in the form of pets, smooches and treats, but knew any such sudden movement would scare her off completely.
Kaya came close enough to sniff my arm.
She softly licked my glove and then retreated.
That was as close as she would allow me. As a medium-content wolfdog, Kaya has no motivation to please humans, as dogs normally do.
The wolf in her is shy and protective, anxious and very careful.
The higher the wolf-content, the further away the wolfdogs stayed. Zeus, Kuna and Nova kept their distance, coming close enough only so that we could toss the treats they were so eager to snack on.
Then they would withdraw behind a tree, a building, back to the farthest corner of their fenced enclosure.
Beautiful Nova.
Where Wild Meets Wonder
You don’t often get to look a wolfdog in the eye — at least not without it being a National Geographic moment. But at the Yamnuska Wolfdog Sanctuary, just outside of Cochrane, Alberta, you can do exactly that in a way that’s safe, educational, and surprisingly moving.
This isn’t a zoo and it’s definitely not a petting farm. It’s a refuge for wolfdogs that can’t live in the wild and don’t quite fit into a regular household. The result? An experience that’s equal parts conservation, education, and “wow, their eyes really are that intense.”
About The Wolfdogs
It’s their elusiveness that brought them to the Yamnuska Wolfdog Sanctuary, under the care of their keeper, Georgina.
Their beauty entices the unknowing pet owner – wanting the looks of a wolf with the behaviour of a dog – backyard breeders rise to meet the demand. Soon, disappointment for the owners sets in when that fantasy is not realized, and the wolfdogs are often abandoned.
Here, with an owner that understands their behaviour, they are cared for and safe.When no one else is around, they silently compete for Georgina’s attention. Kuna, the dominant high-content female, sleeps with Georgina at night, establishing dominance over the pack because as the purveyor of sustenance, Georgina is obviously valuable to them all.
Zeus is the alpha-male of the group, intimidating with his jet black fur and piercing hazel eyes. Any new wolfdog to the pack has to win Zeus over first which can take anywhere from one to three months. “And we really hope any new wolfdog is submissive, it makes it much easier,” Georgina said with a laugh.
Goals of the Sanctuary
The long-term hope, of course, is to not have the need for such a sanctuary. But currently there is more demand then they can handle – the sanctuary will soon be moving to a space with eight massive enclosures.
Calls for rescue have unfortunately been turned down, but where possible, low-content wolfdogs are placed with new owners. 45 such placements have occurred in the past two and a half years.
For others, Zeus, Kuna and Nova, this is likely their home forever. They will continue to shyly take treats from strangers and accept love from their one-and-only Georgina.
And in the meantime, hopefully teach us humans that wolfdogs are not dogs, and not the pet that one would expect.
Visiting the Sanctuary
The Sanctuary, located just outside of Canmore, Alberta, also has a secondary location in Cranbrook, British Columbia. Contact the Sanctuary directly to arrange a visit.
Things to Do at the Sanctuary
1.The Sanctuary Walk
Take a self-guided stroll past enclosures to observe wolfdogs at your own pace. You’ll learn their backstories and probably hear some spine-tingling howls.
2.Intro Tour
A guided tour where you’ll step inside a wolfdog enclosure (with staff, of course). You’ll get closer than you’d expect and walk away with a newfound respect for their behaviour and body language.
3.Interactive Tour
The most immersive experience. This one includes feeding opportunities and the chance for wolfdogs to approach you on their terms. Bring your camera—this is the money shot moment.
4.Learn About Wolves in the Wild
Displays and talks connect the dots between the sanctuary’s wolfdogs and their wild cousins. It’s a sobering reminder of how conservation and education go hand in hand.
Tips for Visiting
Book ahead: Tours fill quickly, especially weekends and holidays.
Dress smart: Closed-toe shoes are required, and layers help in Alberta’s unpredictable weather.
Stay calm: Wolfdogs pick up on human energy. No shrieking, running, or attempting to pet them like Fido at home.
Photography: Yes, but no flash. Wolfdogs don’t love paparazzi.
Weather check: Tours run rain, shine, or snow, so pack accordingly.
Children: Check age restrictions before booking—some tours aren’t suitable for little ones.
How to Get There
The sanctuary is located about an hour’s drive from Calgary, making it an easy day trip if you’re city-based. Renting a car is the simplest option, as public transport doesn’t reach the site.
Where We Stayed
We breathed a massive sigh of relief when we walked into the Solara Resort & Spa in Canmore.
We were so in love with our apartment that we curled up on the sublime leather couches in front of the fireplace and wiled an entire evening away doing nothing but enjoying the coziness.
We love having the comfort of a suite every once in awhile along our journey, and Solara was an incredible pleasure to stay in.
Also, you just can’t beat those mountain views.
Final Thoughts
A visit to the Yamnuska Wolfdog Sanctuary is one of those rare travel experiences that’s equal parts thrilling and humbling.
You’ll leave with better photos, a better understanding of wolf behaviour, and a lingering sense that maybe humans don’t have it all figured out.
If your Alberta trip needs a break from mountains and museums, this is a stop that delivers wild wonder—without you needing to pack bear spray.
The Faroe Islands are a chain of geologically impressive Islands situated in the remote north Atlantic Ocean. Not many people know where they are, often overshadowed by its neighbour Iceland, but believe me, they are more majestic and awesome. The Faroe Islands are made up of grass-carpeted sea cliff faces, picturesque villages, one iconic viewpoint after the next, and, of course, many hiking trails. The islands are connected by a series of underground tunnels or accessed by ferry. And they truly captivate its tourists with their rugged beauty and unspoiled landscapes.
These islands offer a unique blend of natural wonder and cultural authenticity, inviting travellers to explore winding roads, discover hidden gems, and connect with a resilient community deeply intertwined with their harsh surroundings.
Hiking routes in the Faroe Islands tend to be suited for the more advanced outdoor lovers but are certainly worth the trouble in elevation gain, steep descent, and great walking distance for the rewarding views at the end. Welcome to a world where lush green sea cliffs plunge into the deep blue sea, a scenic village nestles within fjords, and ever-changing weather creates an ethereal atmosphere.
Arriving to the Village of Gásadalur
Not so long ago, access to and from the small remote village of Gásadalur was only via a strenuous route through the highest mountains on the island of Vágar. It was the last town in the Faroe Islands to be connected by road until a tunnel was blasted through the mountain in 2004. With a striking waterfall at the base of the town, it has since become one of the hallmarks of the Faroe Islands.
We visited Gásadalur twice to capture it in different conditions, but I personally could not help but be drawn instead to the surrounding peaks. With a day left to spare in our itinerary, we spoke to a guide from a previous excursion about taking that arduous old postal route. He insisted that it was his favourite of all Faroe Islands hikes but was also concerned for our safety.
“I have seen your walking skills,” he said to me. “I think you should only do that hike if you have walking sticks.”
Ouch. I thought I had the whole left-foot-then-right-foot thing down pat. (Or maybe it should be right-foot-then-left-foot? I am so confused.)
I did appreciate his blunt honesty, though – I fully acknowledge my own klutziness and the fact that any hike in the Faroe Islands should not be taken lightly. With few signed paths to guide hikers and weather that can turn brutal in a moment, each needs to be taken with care.
Sound daunting? Maybe a bit. But that is what adventure is all about, and each of these excursions are also undeniably worth every effort.
Faroe Island Hikes
Mykines Island Hiking Trails
Another hallmark of the Faroe Islands, we say with confidence that this island offered the most stunning hiking we’ve ever done. Consider also that access to the island of Mykines is only possible by boat or helicopter, and a trip to Mykines Island becomes a truly unforgettable outing.
Head due west from town to hit the lighthouse, walking through fields shared with sheep, down steep steps along a cliffside, and across a bridge through a narrow strait teeming with bird life. This is an excellent place to see puffins when puffins are there – unfortunately low herring populations mean that they haven’t returned for the past two years.
Gjógv Hiking Trail
This was the first hike of our Faroe Islands Hikes, and it gave us an astounding introduction.
In the northern part of the tiny village is a gorge, walking along the outer bank of it will lead you up a sheep path that will give spectacular views back onto the neighbourhood. The going is slow with every few steps offering a photo op as waves crash below and white mist creeps up the cliff.
We continued up until we got to a closed gate with a sign written in Faroese. Estimating that it was a private property sign we didn’t continue on. We later found out that we could have continued on past the gate. It did mean private, but everybody ignores that and continues on their way up the cliff.
Near the starting point, above the gorge.Our first views of GjógvKeep Out?
Saksun Hiking Trail
A journey to the top of Streynoy Island led us to Saksun. After parking the car, we headed straight down the path toward the water, having read that it was possible to reach the sea. Immediately to our right was a huge veil-like waterfall ending in the lake at the bottom of the valley. The path led us along the western shore, and we eventually made it to the black sand beach at the bottom.
Along this beach, we never felt quite so alone and desolate anywhere else on the islands – the chill of howling winds dug deep while we stepped over partially decomposed animal bones. After exploring more of the beach, we contemplated continuing on around the corner to get a glimpse of the North Atlantic Ocean, but the wind bit so fierce that we opted instead to make our way back to our car.
Kalsoy Hiking Trail – Kallur Lighthouse
We’ve already told this story about Kalsoy Faroe Islands. We made an attempt on this challenging trek to reach the Kallur lighthouse at Kallur on the island of Kalsoy, but a lack of directions, extremely soggy conditions, and the threat of more rain were the excuses we gave for not finding it.
Granted we did make the most of our day by exploring other parts of the island. But reaching the Kallur lighthouse is one of many reasons we are vowing to return to these islands.
Kirkjubøur Hiking Trail
Why drive to this important cultural spot when you can walk 7km of hiking trails over a mountain to it? Our destination was the small village of Kirkjubøur, the spiritual center of the Faroese society in the Middle Ages, and we were led by a local hiking guide directly up one side of the mountain and down the other to get there.
Along the way we passed cairns (pyramids of stones built to guide the way), and rocks carefully arranged as “speakers chair” and used as a meeting place for the Faroese over a century ago. Wind and fog prevented us from lingering for long on the hill.
Sørvágsvatn Hiking Trail
Beguiling images online brought us to this destination. Twice. A miscommunication with our local guide meant that we actually walked right past the desired spot the first time, and so we knew we must return as our days wound down.
Walking up a specific cliff would give us the perspective of the largest lake (Lake Sørvágsvatn) in the Faroe Islands as an infinity pool, and that shot was not one we were going to miss.
To start, find the “old houses by the biggest lake” (you really do need no further instructions than that). Walk along the east side of it and trek as far as you can go to see a waterfall cascade over the edge into the North Atlantic Ocean below.
On the way back, climb up the highest cliff to get the infinity perspective looking back. The whole trip should take 3-4 hours.
More Tips for Hiking in the Faroe Islands
There are a few things to keep in mind when venturing out hiking in the Faroe Islands.
1.Tell somebody what your plans are. Nobody will probably know you are gone, and most likely, you will not see too many other people on your hike. If something goes wrong at least somebody might have an idea where you might be. Another option is to higher a local guide if you can find one.
2.Be prepared. Bring extra clothing, food and water. Weather can change very quickly, and people have been known to get caught in storms. Likewise, bring proper hiking boots. Always check the local weather forecast, and don’t assume that it will stay as predicted. In short, expect the unexpected.
3.Don’t expect there to be a map or even a path. Your shoes will get soaked (waterproof is recommended) and they will be caked in mud and sheep shit. Basically everywhere on the islands is a walking path. Don’t be afraid to explore, but be aware of your surroundings.
4.Don’t get too close to the edge. The Faroe Islands are raw beauty, and they don’t put up guard rails. So be smart and stay a safe distance from the edge. And there is a rock on top of the Island of Mykines, which is a memorial to those who have gone over the edge.
5.It is recommended to bring a partner. Everyone likes their quiet time, and I even like to climb mountains on my own. But this is one destination where having someone else there to keep our limits in check certainly helps. Again, if anything should go wrong (and it can), having a second person there will always help.
Planning on Visiting the Faroe Islands
Where to Stay in the Faroe Islands
There are plenty of places to stay and hotels on the Faroe Islands.
Hotel Foroyar
Hotel Foroyar is about a 5-10 minute drive from the Tórshavn city center, but the distance provides fantastic views over the city, harbor, and islands! Breakfast here is included.
Hotel Hafnia
Hotel Hafnia is located in the Tórshavn city center, and has amazing views and great food! The rooms are chic and comfortable and the staff is extremely pleasant. It’s highly rated for these reasons.
visitHOMES Faroe Islands
visitHOMES Faroe Islands is great spot for budget-seekers. This guesthouse is located in Leirvík and provides everything needed to have a wonderful stay on the Faroe Islands. It’s the perfect base for exploring Eysturoy and the other islands, but just be aware about the tunnel tolls.
Tours in the Faroe Islands
Tours make it easy to experience some of the best things to do when visiting the Faroe Islands.
Getting Around the Faroe Islands
The best way around the Faroe Islands is by rental car. To find a rental car and the best rates we use RentalCars.com
From freely exploring remote locations to setting your pace, a rental car empowers you to uncover the archipelago’s dramatic landscapes on your own terms. There isn’t really much of a beaten path here, so it’s not hard to get off of it.
With the flexibility to adapt to changing weather, the convenience of personal space, and the chance to connect with locals, a car enhances your adventure, ensuring you make the most of every moment of life out in the swelling North Atlantic Ocean.
I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t really know this French archipelago existed. I blame it on my western roots and the fact that I was a pretty sheltered kid. I’m sure I’d heard of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon, but it might as well have been across the Atlantic instead of mere kilometers from Newfoundland. That’s how distant and foreign it felt.
It wasn’t until the last few years that I started to hear more about it. Given that the islands are reachable in just over an hour flight from Halifax, my interest grew. France? In an hour? We have to see this.
So when the invite came for us to explore and report back on our journey, we jumped at the chance. And the result was more than we could have ever expected: the islands wowed us, surprised us, and left us plotting our to-do list for our inevitable future visit.
Four Days on Saint-Pierre and Miquelon
First…The Practical Information
Getting to Saint-Pierre and Miquelon
There are two ways to arrive to Saint-Pierre and Miquelon from Canada: by plane or ferry.
Boarding the place to Saint Pierre in Halifax
We flew from Halifax with Air Saint-Pierre and the flight took less than 90 minutes. These flights are thrice weekly, all year long. There are also direct flights from St. John’s, Newfoundland and from Montreal, QC. The ferry to Saint-Pierre operates out of Fortune, Newfoundland; it takes 90 minutes and runs multiple times per week.
How to Get Around
The easiest way to get around Saint-Pierre is to rent a car. The island is only 25 square kilometres, so don’t expect long drives to anywhere. We, however, didn’t have a car and also managed fine by booking independent tours and walking a lot! There are also taxis, but we didn’t need one during our four days and we enjoyed getting our steps in.
On Miquelon and Langlade, it’s a different story. The islands are much bigger and a car would be helpful if you want to explore. The town is quite walkable, but most hiking and other adventures, especially if you want to see the isthmus connecting Miquelon to Langlade, require a drive.
We spent four nights on Saint-Pierre and then ferried to Miquelon for one night. Below, we’ve divided our recommended activities into sections for each of the two islands.
Our Time on Saint-Pierre
Things to Do
Sightseeing
Saint-Pierre, despite being quite small, is very beautiful and there is much to see. We started off our trip taking a sightseeing taxi tour offered by Logan from Taxi Salomon. A local from Saint-Pierre, Logan drove us to some his favourite spots and lookout points to get us aquainted with the island. It was a perfect way to start off a trip and get an idea of where we wanted to explore over the next few days.
Taxi Salomon
After we had the lay of the land, Pete was eager to explore more on foot on his morning walks. He scoped out spots to take photographs and each morning, he set off to find something new (while getting his steps in).
Hiking
For being such a small island, there are so many different hikes that you can take on Saint-Pierre. And with a maximum elevation of just over 200 metres, nothing is too strenuous. Over the four days we visited we did two different hikes: Le Diamant and La Vallée des 7 Étangs (Valley of Seven Lakes).
Le Diamant was a short 3 km hike (more like a walk) along the south-western coast of Saint-Pierre. Most of the trail is a boardwalk that twists and turns along the shores. This hike gives sweeping views of the coastline, one of its many lakes, and in the distance, the bluffs are dotted with colourful homes.
On our last day on Saint-Pierre, We joined Gilles from Escapade Insulaire for a 4 km hike to see the seven lakes. Along the way we took a short detour to climb to the highest peak on the island (only 207 ms) for a 360 degree view of the island and to enjoy a coffee. It was a perfect morning hike and the weather agreed with us.
Gilles offers multiple hike options depending on capability; from quick and easy walks to multiple day treks on both Saint-Pierre and Langlade. He also runs tours to south eastern Newfoundland for more adventurous hikers.
Visit L’ Île aux Marins (Sailor Island)
Right across from the island of Saint-Pierre is another that we couldn’t take our eyes off of: L’ Île-aux-Marins. From afar, it looked like buildings on the island were frozen in time. We weren’t wrong! Île-aux-Marins was formerly home almost exclusively to cod fisherman and their families.
A view of L’Ile Aux Marins while flying into Saint-Pierre
At its peak, the island had over 600 inhabitants. Now, it is largely abandoned, while some of the buildings on the island are protected; others serve as summer cottages. There is no running water or power and homeowners either have to rely on solar or generators for power.
It was a rough life during the prime fishing days (up until the 1960s). Winters were harsh, and without powered boats, getting to Saint-Pierre for provisions and services wasn’t an easy task. And when they fished, their catch (mainly cod) needed to be laid out on large rock beds to dry, which required 8 full days of sun. On non-sunny days, the fish needed to be covered in salt. Because they often worked barefoot, the fishermen were called “La Pieds Rouges” (the red feet) as their feet were often covered in cod blood.
Visiting L’ Île-aux-Marins is a must-do when visiting Saint-Pierre. It was helpful to be led by Eléa Guided Tours because our guide was able to get us into locked buildings. However, there are informative placards along the walking paths if you want to visit on your own.
Don’t miss Ligne Verte
This stop was an unexpected highlight for us. Ligne Verte started out simply as a hydroponic lab to fill the need for fresh produce on the rocky island that is typically inhospitable for plants. With the ability to grow up to 9,000 plants at once, the team are helping to elevate the food scene on the island by experimenting and producing items otherwise not available.
It then grew to include a mycology lab with the ability to produce 2 tonnes of mushrooms a year, and finally, Distillerie du Goéland was added. Our tour of the entire facility included sampling everything from Japanese basil to the distillery’s excellent potato vodka and Gin n’ Roses (be still my Gen X heart!). The enthusiasm of our guide and owner, Alex, was convincingly palpable, and his eagerness to bring gourmet options to the residents of islands (and to us, the visitors!) is already making a difference.
Learn about the Dories with Les Zigotos
One of the things that Pete was eagerly looking forward to while visiting Saint-Pierre was learning about the history of the dory fishing boats, and taking one over to Grand Colombier to see puffins and other seabirds. Pete’s grandfather was a dory fisherman on the Grand Banks of Newfoundland, and had visited Saint-Pierre numerous times before Pete was even born.
Les Zigotos are a group of friends who are passionate to keep the history of the Saint-Pierre dories alive. Their small boathouse museum along the waterfront gives visitors an idea of the importance Saint-Pierre held in the construction of the wooden fishing boats. These friends give dory tours that include sightseeing and fishing. We hopped into the boat with the hopes of making it to Grand Colombier to see the seabirds, but unfortunately it would not be possible, as the seas were too rough for us to go very far. Instead we toured inside the break wall and heard stories about the dories of Saint-Pierre.
Where to Eat and Drink
Restaurants
What excited us the most about visiting Saint-Pierre and Miquelon was our desire for French cuisine! We made the most of our four days on the island, visiting some of the top-rated restaurants. Some highlights from our trip include:
Scallop crudo from Auberge Quatre Temps.
A pea and mint cold soup with cracker and cream and Octopus in red wine reduction from Le Bar a Quai. Other patrons around us also lauded the cod burger (we didn’t try it).
French onion soup, escargot, and seafood salad from Le Select.
A gallette filled with smoked bacon, eggs, onion jam, cream from Le Roc Cafe.
My fave was the steak frites from Les Petits Graviers (I’m still drooling about it), while Pete loved the duck breast there as well.
It’s highly recommended to make reservations at all these spots.
Cafes and Boulangeries
We whole-heartedly took advantage of being able to pop into cafes for a quick espresso and French pastry treat as we wandered. Our favourite cafe (we went twice!) was L’Essentiel, the vibes and decor of this place made it very attractive. We sipped on cappucinos and Dalene tried one of their tarts generously filled with chocolate ganache.
As for French bakeries, our go-to was Boulangerie Patisserie des Graves that was located right next to our hotel. Their mille-feuiles and eclairs were to die for. And the choco-pains. And the… well you get the point.
Shops and Markets
It’s no shock that we went home with several French delicacies tucked into our suitcases. We bought onion confit, fig jam, and duck pate, just to name a few. There are a number of shops throughout Saint-Pierre and if it was Pete’s choice he would have come home with a lot more goodies. One shop not to miss is Chez Julien. Being both a deli and grocery, this shop had all the French cheeses, meats, and other delicacies the island had to offer.
Where to Stay
Les Terrasses du Port
Sitting just around the bend from the downtown core of Saint-Pierre, our stay at Les Terrasses du Port was comfortable and luxurious. Not only were the rooms spacious and agreeable, but there is even a small spa onsite we took advantage of. It’s a mini, indoor version of a Nordic spa, with a variety of temperate stations to rotate through. The best part is that it is built for four people max, and with our two-hour booking, we had it all to ourselves.
From the hotel, it’s a pleasant ten-minute walk along the waterfront to all the action downtown.
Miquelon and Langlade
The islands of Miquelon and Langlade are bigger in size, but much smaller population-wise. Miquelon is the more populated of the two, Langlade home to only summer cottages and little infrastructure. There are two ways to arrive here: by ferry or plane. We took the ferry to Miquelon from Saint-Pierre and the journey took about 1.5 hours; it was quite relaxing, with WIFI on board, and a cafeteria with coffee and snacks in case we got hungry.
Aboard the ferry to Miquelon
When we arrived to the sleepy town of Miquelon, we quickly found out there is one way to get around independently: walking! There are no taxis, and car rentals are difficult to come by (if you want to be sure to have a car, rent one in Saint-Pierre and bring it on the ferry).
Just a few steps from the ferry terminal, we made a stop at the Nature Centre (see below) before walking to our hotel.
Things to Do
Visit the House of Nature and the Environment
It was quickly evident to us how much the locals cherish the pristine nature of the islands, and there are many steps being taken to ensure that they are around for generations to enjoy. The Nature Centre is a worthy visit, there are interactive displays throughout along with a video (subtitled in English) to learn about the nature and animals of Saint-Pierre and Miquelon.
Be forewarned: a lot of the information in the Centre is in French. The subtitled video was what we enjoyed the most.
Take a Gourmet Tour with Patricia
Since we didn’t have a rental car to tour ourselves on Miquelon, we took a Gourmet Tour with Patricia to see the sights and taste the foods native to Miquelon. The tour starts at the Auberge de L’Ile (where we also stayed), with a typical lunch that included creamed lobster while watching a video that gives insight into some history on Miquelon.
After lunch, our group hopped into vans and were showed some of the fantastic viewpoints of Miquelon. Aat each stop, we were treated to a small snack of local flavours.
We sampled goat cheese at a goat farm that serves both islands. We tasted locally brewed Miqu’ale atop a peak looking out over the town and landscape of Miquelon. And finally, we tried local macaroons while resting along the Isthmus that separates Miquelon and Langlade. The tour was a great way to see the island.
Walk Around Town
Like in Saint-Pierre, Pete was determined to get all his steps in and continued his morning routine by capturing images throughout the town of Miquelon. There were two main streets that ran in and out of town, and the colourful pallet of houses gave way to a cute fishing town. Life here felt quiet, simple and relaxing.
Hiking and Cycling
The nature and solitude of Miquelon is appealing; when it came time to leave after just night, we were disappointed we hadn’t allowed oursevles more time to explore the hiking trails. We didn’t even get to see Langlade, which our guide from Saint-Pierre hike said is his favourite area to spend a few days exploring. Next time!
We did see quite a number of people cycling; ebike rentals are possible on the island.
What and Where to Eat
Restaurants
In the evening we dined at Chez Adrien, a casual, family-run bistro with excellent food and a really good beer menu.
Morgan, the owner and Miquelon local, served up a juicy cheeseburger for me and Pete enjoyed the evening special (a rice bowl with chicken). The food was fresh and had very good flavour, and the local beers were cold and delicious.
Boulangeries and Shops
As mentioned, there isn’t too much on Miquelon to serve the ~600 redsidents, but they do have a fairly new boulangerie serving up tasty pastries and breads. You can’t miss it: it’s right in the centre of town, next to the House of Nature and Environment. I recommend getting there early in the morning, because it seemed all the locals do so for their morning breakfast.
There were also a couple markets in town that were stocked with delicious French cheese and most staples in case we needed anything.
Where to Stay
There are not too many places to stay on Miquelon, but we were quite pleased with our one-night stay at Auberge de L’Ile. The rooms were spacious, clean and comfortable. And the breakfast the next morning before catching our ferry was quite generous with fresh bread, cheese and goat milk yogurt from the local farm.
Another option on Miquelon is to stay at Les Cabanes du Cap. These tiny homes are perched along the cliff-side at the beginning of Du Cap and are owned by the same folks operating Chez Adrien restaurant. The cabins are eco-conscious while providing a bit of luxury to their guests and they also have a sauna on site to rest aching bodies after hiking.
Here we are, Pete and I, having spent plenty of time in places where the scuba diving is said to be some of the best in the world, but we’ve done nothing about it. We’ve instead enjoyed peeking into the depths while just skirting along the top, and continuously offering any number of excuses as to why we haven’t gone further. I’m slightly claustrophobic. Pete is too easily distracted and will likely wander off. Both of those examples are true, but really shouldn’t stop us from trying.I am a water baby by astrological sign, a strong swimmer who was almost nearly a certified lifeguard, and have thoroughly savoured every experience on the water I’ve had from kayaking to snorkelling. Going under though? That’s a whole other world. One that we, as a species, have only explored five percent of. That fact alone is enough to instil a dramatic fear of the unknown, never mind the need to learn how to tinker with the instruments that will keep one alive while diving into spaces that humans aren’t built to survive in.
A solution exists though, for people like us who are curious yet fearful. And it was about time that we tried it out as a first step. While visiting Hawaii, we signed up for snuba in Lanai.
The concept of snuba is simple: we had access to an oxygen tank without the need to carry it nor learn how to use it. The tank floated in a small raft above our heads with a 20ft hose attached to our breathing regulator, giving us 20ft of freedom to roam in the water below. Our guide, Matthew, was in control of the tank and was there to show us the way.I had thought this would be a breeze. The panic, so early on, was something I never expected.
Matthew had warned us of it but I paid no mind, at least until I couldn’t get my breathing pattern right from the start, realizing that it is not as simple as an easy in and out. And then I found the hose slightly twisted around my body because I had turned to see where Pete was. I wriggled about, careful not to remove the regulator from my mouth. Matthew, thinking I was just confused about how to descend properly, came over to try and tilt me the right way. But by then I was wide-eyed and panicky and I just couldn’t bring myself to go any further. Instead, Matthew took off my weights and I hung onto the raft and swam along through the bubbles pushed up from Pete below.
With only 15-20 mins on the tank, I wasted more than half the time this way. Finally, after I had calmed my breathing and kicked along steadily, I became extremely jealous of watching Pete cruise along the reef as he’d never been able to before. I wanted so badly to be sharing these moments with him. Seeing him do it so effortlessly gave me new confidence; I signalled to Matthew that I wanted to try again and he was over in a flash.
I let my arms go limp above my head, exhaled, and sunk. I unplugged my ears and went a little further. I’m not sure how far I got, maybe I didn’t even make it past ten feet, but I was near enough to Pete’s side to feel good again. He gave me the OK sign, reached up to squeeze my hand, and smiled with his eyes.
You guys, I would be thoroughly destroyed if I didn’t have this man, the better half of my soul, with me at all times. I am honestly worried for myself and my reliance on him, and him on me, should something ever happen. His presence alone is enough to fuel my desire to try more and be better. And I didn’t want to let him down.
The last few minutes gave me the tiniest glimpse into the addiction that many have to this underworld. The water was warm, crystal clear, and this spot near Hulopoe Beach is said to be one of the best in Hawaii. I know nothing of fish but excitedly started pointing out the most colorful ones. Before I knew it we were heading to shore and into the murky water where the heavy waves were churning up the sand. We packed the heavy raft to our starting point and as we set it down, Matthew assured us that for first timers, we were rockstars.
I’m sure he tells that to all the panicky ladies, I thought. But I wasn’t bothered, I was happy enough to watch Pete enjoy it, for the few stellar minutes I had, and for having the courage to try something new.
how to do it
This wasn’t our first experience with Trilogy Excursions, having done a sunset tour with them during our last visit to Maui – both were very well run and enjoyable. They offer snorkelling and snuba tours right on the island of Lanai, or via day trip from Maui.
Bordeaux may be famous for wine, but let’s be honest—this city is far more than vineyards in pretty bottles.
Think grand squares, riverside strolls, art that rivals Paris, and food that’ll ruin you for supermarket baguettes forever.
Whether you’re here for a weekend or a week, Bordeaux serves up the good life on a silver platter (or perhaps in a crystal glass).
1.Sip (and Learn) at Cité du Vin
This isn’t just a wine museum—it’s Willy Wonka for wine lovers.
At Cité du Vin, you’ll swirl your way through exhibits, tastings, and stories from wine regions across the globe.
Bonus: the top floor bar offers panoramic views over Bordeaux with a glass in hand.
2.Stroll the Place de la Bourse & Miroir d’Eau
If Bordeaux had a “most photogenic” award, this duo would win.
By day, the elegant Place de la Bourse shimmers in 18th-century glory.
By night, its reflection in the Miroir d’Eau (world’s largest reflecting pool) doubles the drama. Instagram eats it up.
3.Explore Bordeaux by Bike
Bordeaux is wonderfully flat and bike-friendly.
Rent a vélo and roll along the Garonne River promenade, stopping at leafy squares and cafés as you go.
It’s sightseeing with a breeze in your hair — much better than a stuffy bus.
4.Wander Rue Sainte-Catherine
Europe’s longest pedestrian shopping street, Rue Sainte-Catherine is a marathon of boutiques, cafés, and people-watching.
Start at Place de la Comédie for designer names and end near Place de la Victoire, where vintage shops and student haunts keep things affordable (and fun).
5.Visit the Bassins de Lumières
An old WWII submarine base transformed into a dazzling digital art space.
Bassins de Lumières projects masterpieces onto cavernous walls, reflected in pools of water.
The result? You’re literally standing inside the art. Trust me, even museum skeptics get goosebumps.
6.Climb the Pey-Berland Tower
Sure, you’ll huff and puff up 231 steps, but the view over Bordeaux’s rooftops is worth it.
The Pey-Berland Tower, next to the cathedral, gives you a bird’s-eye look at the city — with fewer crowds than Paris’s towers.
7.Picnic in Jardin Public
Every great city has a park where locals escape, and for Bordeaux it’s the Jardin Public.
Pack some cheese, wine (naturally), and pastries, then sprawl under the trees.
It’s peak French lifestyle, minus the clichés.
8.Take a Wine Tour to Saint-Émilion
A trip to Bordeaux without visiting vineyards is like Paris without the Eiffel Tower.
Saint-Émilion, a UNESCO-listed medieval village surrounded by vines, is less than an hour away.
Cobblestone streets, limestone cellars, and endless tasting opportunities await.
Cheers.
Where to Stay in Bordeaux
From chic boutiques to budget-friendly beds, Bordeaux caters to every style.
Luxury:InterContinental Bordeaux – Le Grand Hotel — think Belle Époque elegance, Michelin-starred dining, and spa bliss right on Place de la Comédie.
Budget: Mama Shelter Bordeaux — funky décor, a rooftop bar, and surprisingly affordable rates.
Mid-Range: Hotel de Tourny — small, stylish, and perfectly located for exploring on foot.
Tours Worth Booking
If planning isn’t your strong suit (or you just prefer someone else to drive after a few tastings), these tours are spot-on:
Day Trip to Arcachon Bay – Swap wine for oysters and climb Europe’s tallest sand dune, Dune du Pilat.
Saint-Émilion Wine Tour – Half or full-day trips with tastings at top châteaux.
Bordeaux River Cruise – See the city from the Garonne with a glass in hand.
Food Walking Tour – Sample canelés, cheeses, and charcuterie while hearing the stories behind them.
Our Experience
Wine and I don’t get along. I suppose I started it. Not with any intention though – I can either curse it as one of the many pitfalls of aging or blame it on my youth and the way in which I repeatedly drowned my weekday sorrows in liquid-y weekend fun. Either way, my body now rejects alcohol, and wine most vehemently. I can barely finish a glass of red before pain begins to seep into my brain.
And so to visit Bordeaux seemed preposterous, blasphemous even. It’s a “must stop” on a south of France road trip and one thing that Bordeaux is famous worldwide for is their lovely fermented grapes. But on our three day visit, I didn’t even sniff a sample.
Was I a waste of space? Did I fail as a traveler and explorer by forgoing this renowned cultural experience? I can see how some may say that.
Without wine tours to the countryside, tasting cruises on the river Garonne and the like, it might appear to others that there is little other reason to be there. And I did have to wonder myself, but upon arrival both Pete and I were very pleasantly surprised. It is a great city to enjoy our favourite activity – simply wandering about – and we spent almost our entire time doing exactly that.
There are palaces and a grand opera house to be seen, several perfectly manicured parks to linger in. The Miroir d’Eau swallowed up hours of our time, watching kids run through it as a giant puddle, and then dance in its rising fog later. We found fairy tales down alley ways. We eavesdropped on delicious gossip in French tongues while delighting our own with some of the best cuisine we found in our weeks in the country.
There’s a vibrant youthful flair to the city, which was amusing but also a mournful reminder of those days when I could have joined them with a glass in hand.
My plan has always been to age as disgracefully as possible…and thus wine and I need to make up.
(Maybe more time in Bordeaux will do the trick…or a visit to Saint Pierre and Miquelon as it’s much closer to Canada.)
Final Pour
Bordeaux is one of those rare cities that balances elegance with ease.
One minute you’re wandering historic squares, the next you’re sipping wine in a medieval cellar or watching digital Van Gogh swirl across submarine walls.
It’s a city that rewards curiosity—and good walking shoes.
I stood alone in the water a good distance downstream from the others. I sturdied myself on a flat rock while water swirled around the top of my thighs.It had been many months since I had been left on my own by any measure. My family was constantly hovering, concerned for my health and abilities, making sure that I was capable of any task before me. With any slight waiver they would take over and do it all for me. I knew that at that moment, some fifty meters away, Pete was likely watching my moves intently, nervous at my solitude in the middle of the grand Miramichi River.
Yes, my legs were a little more wobbly than they were this time last year, but I held strong. I felt strong.
I raised my fly fishing rod and made my next cast in one smooth movement: I whipped the rod back, held it at the top and whispered Miramichi to count my hold, and then cast forward softly. The fly landed just left of my intended target of rippling water. It gently bobbed downstream until it was due to be pulled out and cast again.
I came up empty but my technique had been near-perfect, and thus it was a giant win by my estimation. Fly fishing had a grace to it that I never expected, nor one that I naturally had.
On cue, a baldheaded eagle took flight from the river’s edge and continued along its shoreline.
Alone on the Miramichi.
Atlantic salmon start to make their way up the mighty Miramichi in mid-June, fighting the currents to return to their natal stream to spawn. The great rush that happens early in the season had already passed, but a few still jumped near us. Jeremy was able to spot them underwater with his polarized glasses and pointed them out. I nodded in agreement, although I was pretty sure I saw nothing but sun flashes on the water.We were fishing at the halfway mark of the salmon’s journey up the Miramichi, about 50 km inland from the city of the same name. Jeremy, one of our guides from the Country Haven Lodge, started out with Sherry and I in the water while Pete sat with Tyler in the boat nearby. Sherry had done this before, but it was a first time for both me and Pete. I’ve previously cast off of shores and boats, and even dropped hooks through holes in ice, but this was the first fly fishing that I had ever attempted. It was, as I expected, much harder than it looks.
Jeremy casted with ease, his fishing line gracefully soared through the air with full extension each time. His movements were smooth and deliberate, his hooks landed on the water’s surface without drama. With the water sparkling all around him in the bright sun, Jeremy made it look effortless and romantic. Tyler told me later that Jeremy was so precise that he once purposely snatched a hat right off his head from mid-stream.
In coaching me, Jeremy repeated the few words that I needed to run through my head in the process: whip back, hold for “Miramichi”, soft release, arms at a 45 degree angle.
“And I’m apparently not going to listen to anything you say,” I said seconds later as the fly ended up just a handful of feet in front of me due to my ignorance of the third point. Both Pete and I suffered the same impulse having played baseball in our youth: what should have been a gentle extension of our arms toward the target often ended up in a forceful whip that dropped far short.
Hundreds of casts later, we were each starting to get in the groove of it. The frequency of our faultless casts increased, as did the praise from our guides. And so we kept chasing that satisfaction of the perfect cast, while trying different spots on the river for fish, and each of us tested our luck inside of the boat and out.
Our group came up empty save for two little river chubs caught by Sherry; the salmon were visible but not tempted by our flies. Our guides seemed nervous that we would be disappointed by our lack of catch, but they had underestimated the joy we would have just by being there.
Those hours were the first I had spent in many months doing something that resembled an athletic activity. Those new skills were the first that I had acquired in as long a time. Fly fishing is not a demanding task but it proved a wholly nourishing one. I now understood that completely, and perhaps in a way that few others could.
Mornings on the Miramichi.Evenings on the Miramichi.Fairy tale accommodations on the Miramichi by night.
Over two days our group took to the river several times; I saved my strength and fished only twice, but on one morning I coaxed the others into putting down rods and picking up paddles.There was only one solo kayak and I called for it immediately – subtly demanded it, really – Sherry and Pete seemed not to mind and paired up in the canoe. For as much as the river had already buoyed my spirits and confidence in myself with the several hours I spent wading in it for fish, I now was eager to test myself further. I have kayaked hundreds of kilometres in my lifetime, but not for over a year, and most certainly not since my health and life were challenged. I dearly missed being on the water.
It was fifteen kilometres from our departure point back to the Lodge but there was little to severely test our skills given the shallowness of the water in the later season. A couple of small sets of rapids had us navigating rocks and almost getting stuck, but I took the lead and guided us all through safely.
I was eager for more but knew I was already busting the limits of my weary body. I was tired, but I barely stopped paddling. My arms hurt, but I insisted on continuously moving.
For a few moments midway I did force a pause while Pete and Sherry propelled ahead. I feigned interest in taking photos but really just wanted a few moments alone. My emotions, unexpectedly, were taking over.
How I got my groove back.
The culmination of the scene before me – the reflective glass of the river cut up only by our movement, the lushness of the river banks, the freshness of the air I breathed in deep – every element of that perfect morning served to overwhelm me. There was little I could do to avoid it; I rested my paddle across my lap and just sat and cried. They were not tears from fatigue or weariness, but out of pure joy and pride at myself.
In the past there have been many moments that I have spent on or in a river, but none seemed nearly as significant. These few were pivotal to me, for in those brief solo minutes I had been given a gift by the Miramichi.
I finally felt like I was beginning to get my life back.
how to do it
There is one very good reason why the Country Haven Lodge and Cottages has nary a blemish on its five star recommendation via online reviews: it deserves every ounce of praise and more. From the excellent guides, to the sublimely comfortable cottages, the superb home cooked meals, the picture-perfect location, and the outstanding overall service – this is one place that is perfectly memorable for all the right reasons. We immediately felt like family, and are eager to return and relive our exceptional experience.
