Category: Canada

When travel gives you the opportunity to taste food at its origin – fresh pasta crafted by hand in Italy, authentic pierogi in Poland, baba ganuj in Jordan – it has the unintentional affect of turning ones palate more discriminatory. I’ve turned into a food snob, I totally admit it. I often steer away from these specific cuisine-style restaurants outside of their original countries. While the food can still be quite good, it just doesn’t taste the same in comparison.Our return to Quebec was highly anticipated for several reasons, one significant one being that it is the home of Montreal smoked meat sandwiches and poutine. We savoured our first real taste two years ago on a mammoth 6 hour food tour through various Montreal neighbourhoods and we sampled some of the best. These items are popular across Canada and we’ve tasted it on several other occasions, but it of course was never quite the same. And while Quebec’s food history is an interesting and varied one – from native cuisine to French, to English, to Quebecois, and includes some quite interesting and entertaining side stories – my interest, and my salivary glands, drove me back to these two standards.

smoked meat

Quoted by Montreal writer Mordecai Richler: smoked meat is a “maddening aphrodisiac”. Similar to Pastrami but packed with more flavour and less sugar, it’s a beef brisket that has been salted and cured and covered in spices for over a week, hot smoked and finally steamed to completion. The most common preparation stacks the meat between two pieces of rye bread. The result is melt in your mouth meat full of smoked flavour.It’s unclear who brought the godly meat sandwich to Quebec, but most indications are that the creators were from Eastern Europe. But regardless, shrines should be built for whoever did. Simple, delicious, and I have yet to find it so good elsewhere on this planet.

While the majority of people immediately default to Montreal when discussing smoked meat, that best we sampled in Quebec easily rivaled it. In fact, we frequented La Fabrique du Smokemeat on more than one occasion. The clear indicator that this small shop outside of the tourist centre is the real-deal is the fact that there was a staff member outside to guide traffic during the lunch hour rush. It is that popular, and that good.

poutine

Typically served up in Quebec’s greasy-spoon-diner style places, it consists of french fries topped with squeaky cheese curds and doused in gravy. In fact according to Merriam-Webster, poutine is from a Quebecois slang word which quite appropriately means “mess”. It was thought the dish was originally topped solely with the cheese curds, and the gravy added later in an effort to keep the fries warmer longer.It sounds like a heart attack in a bowl and it pretty much is. But damn if it isn’t the perfect hangover cure or comfort food. There are restaurants dedicated solely to it and even many variations to the plain poutine. But I found simple to be the way to go. Leave all the other toppings for some other dish.

Frite A’lors is an excellent spot for a diverse menu of different classic poutines. I also liked Le Chic Shack that does a more gourmet variation: smashed potatoes instead of fries and the gravy settling on the bottom as opposed to oozing over the top, to save the crispness of the potatoes.

We woke in the morning to a layer of frost on our tent and our breath crystallizing past our lips. I had slept like a snug baby underneath the thin plastic, tucked into a thick sleeping bag, wearing fleece pants and a wool hat. Pete didn’t fare as well, having forgotten his toque, but assured me that while he may not be smart, he’s tough. We both piled on more layers of clothes and crawled into the cab of the Jeep. With heat blaring, we headed just north of Dawson City to catch the ferry across the Yukon River.

The timing of the trip in front of us is tricky, and our plan to visit in early September saw us skirting between seasons. At any time, a deep freeze could arrive and make the largely unpaved roads we were about to take utterly undrivable. It closes on the first snowfall and then doesn’t usually open until May.

We were there just in time.

Driving the Top-of-the-World Highway

Quick Facts

• Top-of-the-World Highway is 278 km (173 mi) long.
• Most northern international border crossing in North America (Poker Creek).
• The highway starts in Dawson City, Yukon and goes to the Tetlin Junction in Alaska, USA.
• The highway in Alaska is named the Taylor Highway.
• Only open in the summer months (May to September) due to the border stations being open.
• The majority of the highway is gravel with narrow and windy sections.
• The most northerly point is at 64.9 degrees north.
• There is only one stop for fuel in Chicken, Alaska

Our Journey

Connecting Dawson City to Alaska, the Top of the World Highway is largely unpaved runs for 281 km (175 miles) and winds along the crest of a mountain range. As we departed Dawson City via the ferry, we were quickly impressed by the views that greeted us on the other side of the river and up the first mountain. The fall colours had reached their peak – maybe just slightly past – and our perspective was expansive across many valleys. Parking spots and scenic viewpoints dotted the route and we made our own space along the way, too. Few vehicles passed, and the wide road gave us ample opportunity to stop and capture the changing scene in front of us.

It is often referred to as a scenic Alaskan drive, but the vast majority of it resides in Yukon. After driving just over 100 km, which took us a couple of hours (there were MANY photo stops), we arrived at the Alaska border and earned our way through after a few short questions. And for our shiny new Canadian passports, we received a moose stamp to mark our passage through Poker Creek, the northern-most border crossing in North America.

For the first few kilometres (our inaugural visits to Alaska), we were treated with a smooth highway, causing us to declare the USA’s superiority in northern tourist relations. Eh, it was short-lived, and we were cursing it just a few minutes later when the windy road became rougher than what we had encountered in Yukon. Smaller shoulders also left us with less room for photo stops, and ominous clouds had begun to appear anyway, so we hurried through this portion until we arrived at the famed town of Chicken.

Making a stop in Chicken, Alaska

Officially, the “Top of the World Highway” ends before Chicken, but barring an immediate U-turn back to Dawson City, the only way to get back into Yukon is to continue on for almost another 300 kilometres until the Alcan Border.

So we soldiered on. And, we had to check out Chicken (for obvious reasons).

Chicken claims to be the last surviving Gold Rush town, and its name was given because early settlers couldn’t agree on how to spell Ptarmigan. The population, which was said to peak at about 400 residents, is now in the single digits during winter. In summer, it surges a wee bit to support the few businesses in town, including a few stores, a miniature golf course, some historic sites, a famous saloon, and some reportedly excellent pie.

We tested just to make sure. The pie was indeed delicious, and we declare Chicken worth a quick stop, also for the prime photo opportunities.

(As it goes, we had never been to Alaska before this trip, and now we can say: yes, we have. But we only stopped in Chicken.)

Driving from Alaska to The Yukon

Now, making our way back from Alaska to The Yukon, the roads eventually improved as we continued on. Along the long stretches of smooth highway, we encountered several scenic spots worthy of stopping. At Tetlin Junction, we debated a side trip to Tok, the largest town along the way, in order to fill our tank. Instead, we settled against it, headed east back towards Canada, and almost paid dearly for that decision. We arrived at the Alcan Border crossing and were welcomed home into Canada, swerving our truck from side to side to ensure every last drop of fuel was being used. As we crawled into the first gas station, we saw, after 433km of driving, we were substantially relieved that we had made it.

How to Drive the Top-of-the-World Highway

Prior to starting our journey, we spent a few nights in Dawson City. We stayed at the Midnight Sun, A Coast Hotel before beginning our adventure, but there are hotel options in Dawson City to consider.

On the morning before we ventured out we made sure we had a full tank of gas (and maybe some extra in a jerry can), even though gas was available in Chicken and Tok (off the main route). We made sure to bring paper maps on hand considering phone connections are scant. And we stocked up on water, snacks, and memory cards with lots of space on them.

As for the drive, we studied this mile-to-mile description before we left.

We completed the trip in a Jeep Wrangler from Overland Yukon. (And that’s what we woke up in while in Dawson City! It has an awesome tent on top of the roof.) We would not recommend doing this drive in a non-4X4 vehicle – if weather affects the roads at all along the route, it could get messy. Also, check into the tourism office in Dawson City for reports on road conditions before setting off.

When we first started planning our move to Nova Scotia, Truro was in our sights as (at least) a first stop. A good central place to base ourselves for house-hunting, we also soon discovered that Truro is a fantastic hub to explore some hot spots in the province as tourists.

Many great things exist just within an hour’s drive! And so that was our challenge soon after our arrival, to venture out and see what new things we could discover, and to craft whole day trips out of it for others to follow.

Because of the timing of our visit in late fall of 2022, there were several spots on our “to-do” list that were closed and others that were not open because of damage from Hurricane Fiona. We’ve noted these as items we’ll visit on our next adventure! You can check back on this post for updates to those.

Day Trips from Truro

#1 – Following Fundy to Maitland & Noel Shore

Because we were landbound while living in Alberta for the past five years, our first instinct was to head straight to the coast. With the Bay of Fundy being accessible within minutes of driving west from Truro, we bee-lined for Maitland and also drove further west along the Noel Shore, poking inland when we noted other sights worth seeing.

The best part of this trip is the drive itself! It’s a bit of a twisty road from Truro to Maitland and smooths out a little beyond, but the coastal views are often really beautiful. And in the fall, the golden yellow, orange and bright red leaves are just stunning. Plan for time to stop, admire and snap photos along the way.

Highlights from this day trip:

Fundy Tidal Interpretive Centre

Open from mid-May to mid-October, the Fundy Tidal Interpretive Centre on the Shubenacadie River, outside of Maitland, is a prime spot to marvel at the magnificent tidal bore. During the summer months, there are also interpretive walks to learn all about why this phenomenon occurs. From the viewing platform, visitors can watch the world’s highest tides work their magic and dramatically change of direction of the river where the water rises over 3 metres in 30 minutes.

Frieze & Roy General Store

This is the oldest general store in Canada and has changed a lot since we visited several years ago. Previously, it was one large room where you could indulge in a meal while eyeing up basic housewares you might need! Now, a cute little dining room has been separated; the offers are simple but they have deliciously fresh food. (And yes, housewares and other knick knacks are still available in another room.)

Gravity Luxury Domes

Make it more than just a day trip by booking a night at the Gravity Luxury Domes. This is glamping at its best, and not only is it a supremely comfortable stay (complete with an outdoor hot tub, kitchenette, and more), but you will be front and centre of all the changes that come with the dramatic tide swings of the Bay of Fundy that rush up the Shubenacadie River, right outside your door.

Tidal Bore Rafting

We rafted the tidal bore several years ago and probably still have sand in our suits to prove it! It’s one thing to watch the tide rush up the river bed, but to ride it is epic. Bouncing on the waves is an absolute blast, and it’s a highly recommended way to experience this unique phenomenon.

Burntcoat Head Park

Our previous trip, several years ago, was hampered by heavy rain. We guarantee that we’ll be back (more than once, now that we live so close!) as this is a rare slice of natural beauty that we’ll be happy to experience in any and all weather.

Walton Lighthouse

It’s the only remaining lighthouse in Hants County and stands tall above the Minas Basin. Perched on the dramatic rocky cliffs, it’s a gorgeous spot to stop along the way to admire the Bay of Fundy.

The Flying Apron Inn & Cookery

It’s one thing to dine and stay at the Flying Apron, but what caught our attention is the Cookery School. Pete’s eager to take one or more of their culinary classes. Chef Chris Velden, a Certified European Master Chef and Culinary instructor, has a passion for passing off food knowledge to those eager to learn. There are a number of options ranging from demonstrations, hands-on, and specialty classes where they partner with local producers and even bring in special guests. (Or perhaps Pete and I will go with something more intimate and book their private exclusive Culinary Package for 2 people. We can’t wait!)

#2 – The Fruit Loop

Now, the “Fruit Loop” isn’t an official route name in Nova Scotia, and this suggested day trip includes much more than just fruit, but really, how could we ignore the opportunity to name it that?

The large blueberry found in Oxford (the “Blueberry Capital of Nova Scotia”) and the big strawberry between Great Village and Glenholme are both “must-selfie” spots on this road trip, but there are also plenty of other things to do on this drive.

Highlights from this Day Trip:

Masstown Market

Having the Masstown Market nearby is one of the best things about living near Truro. Quality local food (the produce and meats are wonderful) and friendly service make this spot our go-to for grabbing groceries. We hit up the market all the time as residents, but highly recommend it as a tourist spot too.

There’s a fantastic gift shop for souvenirs and the Masstown Market Bakery has fresh daily-made bread and treats (perfect for a tourist meal-to-go). The nearby lighthouse is not only a prime spot to buy fresh seafood, but you can climb to the top for a view of the Bay of Fundy on a clear day. If you’re hungry, grab a fish-and-chips and enjoy it on their summer patio!

Antique Shops (Great Village)

The tiny hamlet of Great Village has a lot to offer relic hunters. Plan a solid couple of hours to hunt through the small stretch of stops that are part flea market, but mostly an antique-lovers dream. Start at the 6,000 sqft “Great Village Antiques Exchange” and then pop into the converted United Church to view a small sample (and take a coffee or snack break at Angel’s Diner) before continuing on.

GJDE Enterprises Ltd (Oxford)

After your selfie with the giant blueberry, don’t miss this novelty shop known locally as the “Alphabet Store”. It is one of those fantastic places where you could spend hours combing through shelves that are overstuffed with everything from vintage candy to clothing to kitchen appliances.

Fencebusters Café (Springhill)

One of the farthest points on this road trip is the small town of Springhill with a couple of big attractions (see below). It’s also an ideal place to stop for your midday meal, and Fencebusters Café is not only known for its fantastic service but also for its homemade fare that is as tasty as it is nourishing. The café is named after the Springhill Fencebusters baseball team, which was a very successful squad from 1920-1951, and pays tribute by lining the walls with baseball memorabilia of the team and other notables.

Anne Murray Centre (Springhill)

Probably one of the most famous Canadian music artists is Anne Murray, a proud Nova Scotian. The Anne Murray Centre, located in Springhill, is an award-winning and world-class museum showcasing her life and career. Built in 1969, it is the longest-operating museum dedicated solely to a Canadian music artist.

Beyond the interactive exhibits, memorabilia, video theatre, and gift shop, we’re most excited about recording a duet in the mini recording studio inside when we finally get to visit (it’s closed in the off-season). We’ll see how that goes before we decide to share it with you. 😉

Springhill Miner’s Museum (Springhill)

The Springhill Miner’s Museum is famous in song and legend and pays homage to the town’s mining history. Only open in the summer, there are exhibits and artifacts that give insight into the mine and explain some of the major events that took place over the course of its years. In addition to the museum, there’s a gift shop and a picnic area for visitors to enjoy.

Tour the Diefenbunker (Debert)

Did you know that in the 1960s Canada built 6 facilities for Government officials to hide in, in case there was a nuclear war? We sure didn’t. One of the facilities is in the tiny town of Debert, aptly named the Debert Diefenbunker, and is open for visitors to not only tour but to have some fun, too. You can play laser tag, and even try to escape from the “Escape the Bunker” escape room.

#3 – Stewie, Shubie, & Brookie

Officially known as Stewiacke, Shubenacadie, and Brookfield, these three small towns south of Truro offer plenty of fun stops to keep visitors busy for a day.

Highlights from this day trip:

Crafty Owl Artisan’s Market (Shubie)

The Crafty Owl Artisan’s Market in Shubenacadie is a cute little gift shop showcasing and selling locally handmade products from Nova Scotian artists. There is a wide range of items and gifts ranging from soaps, candles, notebooks, and much more.

Stewiacke River Park (Stewie)

The Stewiacke River Park is a nice little relaxing spot to take in some serenity, enjoy a picnic or take a walk in the woods. There are 2 km of trails with benches along the way. There is also a play area for kids, and if you just want to relax, grab one of the hammocks to wile away an afternoon. Be sure to keep your eyes out for wildlife, bald eagles are common in the area. While we expect this park to be most loved in the warmer months, it’s also an ideal spot to go snowshoeing in winter.

Brookfield Bakery (Brookie)

The Brookfield Bakery is a 3rd generation family-run bakery, where everything is handmade and from scratch. The moment you walk in you can smell the delicious breads and tasty treats that are baked daily. Our go-to’s have been the light and fluffy English muffins for our morning breakfast sandwiches. There’s also a café on the opposite side of the bakery serving up hearty breakfasts and lunches.

Big River Café (Stewie)

Right in the heart of Stewiacke is the Big River Café. Kamie and Renae, two enthusiastic locals, have a simple intention: to create special, meaningful moments for everyone who walks up to their window. Whether enjoying quality coffees and teas or locally sourced lunch options, this is a popular spot for locals and tourists for a quick drink or bite. In the summer, their patrons can relax and enjoy their coffee and meal on their patio.

Coldstream Clear Distillery (Stewie)

This is a brand known to most Nova Scotians, as the sales of some Coldstream products regularly outsell household names like Mike’s Hard Lemonade. But a stop at their storefront in Stewiacke will introduce visitors to the vast array of their offerings. Everything is free for sampling, but to do so is a dangerous adventure – not just because of the alcohol content – but for the extent of your purchases afterwards! We came away with their hard iced teas, some rum coffee cream, and more.

Other Area Adventures:

Mastodon Ridge (Stewie)

In 1991, the bones of a Mastodon (similar to a woolly mammoth) were found in the nearby town of Milford, and now you can learn all about it at Mastodon Ridge! A 14-foot tall, 22-foot-long replica named Marvin stands tall in their park. For the kiddos (and the adult-kiddos), you can also enjoy a round of mini-golf, play in a fun fort, and get a photo at the exact centre point between the equator and the North Pole (Stewiacke was acknowledged as such way back in 1937).

Shubenacadie Wildlife Park

40 hectares of land is the home to a vast number of animals in the Shubenacadie Wildlife Park, with most of their residents coming from other zoos (where they were born in captivity), and others who are orphaned or injured and arrive in need of care.

There are over 50 different types of mammals and birds, including a bobcat, cougar, lynx, black bear, elk, wolf, and many more. But the most famous animal in the park is Shubenacadie Sam – the groundhog who, every year on February 2, will predict whether or not there will 6 more weeks of winter.

Regained Relics and Antiques (Shubie)

Old, vintage and upcycled, that’s the passion at Regained Relics and Antiques in Shubenacadie. There are vintage items, furniture and antiques that can fill a home.

“You’re going to think I’m weird, but I want to go look at that patch of grass,” Dave said. We were in the middle of Bowron Lakes Provincial Park on the last of our four-day canoe trip, with crisp bluebird skies that contrasted the snowy peaks overhead. Their angles reflected off of the sparkling water just under our boat. Dave steered us off course, the other canoe anchored by Dave’s friend Stan would soon swerve right to follow us. Maybe Stan would question our sudden diversion, but probably not. I expected that Dave’s long-time friend may be accustomed to his impulse to explore every corner. I had only spent a few days with him, but I was not surprised by it either.

And I did not think he was weird at all. I wanted to look at that patch of grass, too.

It was reed canary grass. Some consider it invasive, it can be toxic to animals, and it would never have caught my eye had Dave not honed in on it. In his 20 years of paddling the Bowron, Dave had never seen it anywhere else in the park except for this one unique spot. It grows to seven feet tall and is used by some farmers as a rich agricultural grass on very wet soils, hence its new home on the flood line of the lake. As we glided past it on the canoe, an up-close review confirmed Dave’s suspicion of its being. From there, we gradually pointed back on course. My gaze returned from the water level to the soaring peaks around me, but smiling from this timely lesson on perspective that our guides Dave, his wife Cheryl, and their friend Stan, repeatedly taught us on this trip.

It’s easy to marvel at mountain peaks. Igniting admiration at the micro level takes a bit more work.

There was no better place to learn this than on a popular canoe circuit at the end of the season when poking around every corner could be done so undisturbed.

Our Experience of Canoeing the Bowron Lakes

The Bowron Lakes Circuit is a series of 12 lakes and rivers, a 116 km chain that is almost entirely connected in a perfect square, save for a few sections where short portages are required. Nestled among the Cariboo Mountains, it naturally became a route that draws avid self-propelled boat enthusiasts worldwide. A limited number of paddlers can start the circuit each day during the busier summer months to keep it manageable. By the time we began, at the very edge of the higher season, and considering that snow was in the forecast, we almost had it entirely to ourselves. In the first two days, we only encountered seven other people. We shared campsites with no one.

We completed roughly half of the circuit and returned within four days (most people do the whole circuit in about a week). The paddling was thankfully smoother than predicted. Due to an unfavourable forecast, we were anticipating hours where we would have to bear down and “get through it.” Cirrus clouds sometimes spread their long fingers across the sky during our journey, causing worry about weather set to roll, but we remained largely dry and warm after the first misty morning. On the last day, we woke up to tiny patterns of drizzle on our tent, but that was the worst of it. The sun broke through and dappled the mountains before breakfast, and the water was as still as it was on day one.

What may be surprising to readers (as it was to us) is that while the stunning scenery was all we expected, with snowy peaked mountains and brilliant fall foliage elevating this pocket of our country into one of the most impressive we’ve ever experienced, it wasn’t the grandeur that made this trip most memorable. It was the grass, for starters. Not that it was particularly beautiful as far as grass goes, but our interest was definitely piqued. How did it get there?

We were both surprised that we cared about it at all. Or about the schmoos. The crew implored us to stop on one beach where an abundance of flat and donut-shaped stones with a curious name lay scattered all along the mucked surface. Their origin is entirely unknown, but we were fascinated by them nonetheless, showing off those we found that were bigger or more perfectly rounded.

And we even found ourselves looking at poop with a whole new sense of wonder. Ever on the lookout for wildlife, we followed in Cheryl’s footsteps as she discerned the origins of all we found (moose, caribou, bear?) and approximately how long each pile had been left behind. The closest we got was to a grizzly who had clearly just feasted on berries nearby and dropped his scat on a beach about an hour before we rested there for lunch. None of us strayed far from the bear spray that noon hour as we devoured the meal Cheryl had prepared for our journey.

At that point, we were hardly fazed by any such thing. The details, even of feces, endeared us to the experience more than we ever imagined. Credit for that goes to our circuit companions, who had us inspecting what was at our feet as much as what soared over our heads.

Both Pete and I looked at everything in a brand-new way. We eagerly pulled our canoes over to walk through mossy forests that likely saw very few footprints. We analyzed everything on a tiny level. “It’s amazing what can happen in a square inch,” Dave said. He and I were both crouched and inspecting the forest floor. We had taken a break to stretch our legs and climbed over tree limbs and rocks to find ourselves inspecting flowers, mosses, and mushrooms. “There’s a tree trying to grow through here,” he said, pointing to a tiny sprig, “There are three different types of moss and a small stone poking out. If this were on a grand scale, we would stand in awe of it,” Dave said. It made me think of grand natural wonders like the California Redwoods or New Brunswick’s Hopewell Rocks, with tourists flocking and pushing their way to the front for a photo. And there we were, peacefully huddled with wonders in front of our noses, inhaling the still and earthy aroma.

We were at our own Redwoods and Rocks. We just needed to use our imagination.

The lessons never ended. Dave, Cheryl, and Stan felt like fast friends, imparting wisdom that can only be found by slowing down, enjoying single moments as much as single inches. In our own rush of the world and to see those sights known for imparting awe, they taught us instead how to find it all around us. When Dave wasn’t identifying grasses, he was patiently teaching us the ways of the canoe – J stroke, sweep stroke, draw stroke – the crew patiently let Pete and I steer and zigzag as we tried to leave our kayak instincts behind and figure out how much we could correct the boats without overcorrecting. Cheryl relayed camp, and cooking tricks (tomato soup made with coconut milk!), and Stan made sure we missed nothing else on shore.

One day, we did what might be the most Canadian thing possible: we tied up our canoes to have lunch in an actual moose bed while loons called out frequently nearby. On another shore, Stan pointed out a dark, gangly moose as it rested in the sun. We traipsed kilometres through wild blueberry bushes (stopping to sample often, of course) to the large rushing Cariboo waterfall, the sound of which was the most jarring we experienced in our four days.

By night, with nothing else to distract us (besides Pete making us pose for photos), we sat around the campfire, calling out answers to crossword puzzles.

For all of our craving of new on grand scales, here we were, with three new friends who taught us to find a similar result within a smaller radius, and so much more. The three of them constantly map new trails up and down area mountains with boots or skis. Dave himself has been on over 200 trips into the park – he has re-discovered trails, camping sites, and historic locations that were otherwise long forgotten, connecting him further to what others consider just a place to paddle. Dave and Cheryl have even created new community events that bring new experiences to themselves and anyone else lucky enough to know about them. They admit that their desire to travel beyond their home has diminished. There’s just too much yet to do here.

Dozens of kilometres paddled later, with sore arms and backs, with clothes and bodies grungy from four days of outdoor living, and with camera cards full of grass and scat photos, we left regrettably, still wanting to do more too.

How We Experienced Canoeing the Bowron Lakes

Sure, we could have planned it all ourselves and ventured out on our own to experience the Bowron Lakes. But we opted for a guided experience. Let the pros take care of the logistics so we could savour everything else the circuit offered. And we’re so happy we did so.

Dave and Cheryl run Whitegold Adventures and offer excursions year-round into the Bowron Lakes via hiking boots, skis, or canoes. While the Bowron Lakes Provincial Park is accessible without a guide, we are sure it would have been less compelling or rewarding. They also have accommodations, the Mountain Thyme Getaway and a restaurant (Bear’s Paw Cafe). We frequented both, enjoying the quirky comfort of the house and Cheryl’s delicious recipes at the cafe. Both are iconic in their small town of Wells and not to be missed!

With a cumulative six weeks spent in Nova Scotia over three different trips in the last six years, we’re bold enough to suggest that we might be expert-level tourists of this island province. In fact, beyond our home of Alberta, we’ve spent more time exploring this province than any other.

Purposefully, we’ve driven almost the entire span of it, and we’ve taken several roads more than once. There are some experiences we’ve sadly missed out on due to inopportune weather, but we never struggled to find something else spectacular to do, and we have no doubt that we’ll get back to do all that we want at another time.

And we expect to be able to publish another “most memorable experiences” post in the future – even with all that we did, there is much more on our to-do list, and we’re eager to get to it when it is safe to travel again. But here’s a summary to get us started!

eating dragon’s breath cheese

Those who know us well should NOT be surprised that eating cheese has made the list of best experiences in Nova Scotia, but the fact that this experience actually tops our list should be a solid indication of just how good it is.

We rolled into That Dutchman’s Cheese Farm just before the lunch hour – so that we weren’t exactly famished but our hunger was beginning to peak. The storeroom is small but stuffed with a large variety of cheese and other fun souvenirs. We had one singular thought in mind though: to find the famed Dragon’s Breath blue cheese and make it our meal. Pete picked out sausage to accompany it, and I grabbed a box of crackers. At the till I asked for a small cooler pack as I was sure that we wouldn’t finish the black bell of cheese (as they call it). The lady nearly laughed at me, and rightly so. We stepped outside to enjoy it at their garden picnic table, cracked the top of the bell, and on the first whiff of its delicately spiced aroma, we were hooked. Once we started eating it, we couldn’t stop.

(For future visitors: the shop will give you a refund on the cooler pack if you don’t end up using it.)

Lumberjack Training

There’s been some forced career-pivoting going on in the past year going on in this past pandemic year. We were not immune to that ourselves, with tourism being the hardest-hit industry, but we’ve been diversified enough to make it through this far. And if it wasn’t working out…well, we always had our lumberjack training to fall back on.

Granted, we have a lot more work to do to match the expertise of Darren Hudson of Wild Axe Productions, but he was also the perfect person to begin our journey. He’s a 5-time lumberjack world champion and also a helluva nice guy. He offers summer camps for kids, and an exciting day-long experience for tourists. It was certainly one of the quirkier things we’ve done in our travels, and thus super memorable. (Especially because I bested Pete in an impromptu axe-throwing contest.)

Exploring Taylor Head Provincial Park

Nova Scotia boasts 20 stunning provincial parks, and in our extensive travels to the province, we’ve been to a good number of them. However, nothing stands out as emphatically as our time at Taylor Head along the Eastern Shore.

I cannot think of any other hike we’ve ever done where 4 kilometers of easy trail turned into an over-two-hour expedition. We had arrived late in the afternoon, just as several others were leaving, and were grateful for empty paths and the soft light of the descending sun. We picked berries, stopped for so many photos, and took our time on a cobbled shoreline. We returned another day to linger on its white sand beach, captivated by the skills of a wind-surfer in an otherwise sublimely peaceful setting. Being on the eastern shore means it is less visited than other parks in the province, but certainly no less beautiful.

Tidal Bore Rafting

Seeing the highest tides in the world roll in is one thing…but riding on top of them is quite another. And that is the unique opportunity that presents itself near the small town of Maitland, where the leading edge of the tide pushes itself up the Bay of Fundy, creating natural rapids as it goes.

Golfing Cabot Links

To be honest, we both kinda suck at golf. But that doesn’t stop us from swinging the clubs whenever we can – the appeal of a few casual hours outdoors outweighs the embarrassment at our incompetence. So when the opportunity arose to take a turn on Cabot Links, that was an easy yes.

Did we feel worthy of this experience? Not really, but perched on cliffs towering over a mile of sandy beach in Cape Breton, the course is famous and frequented by hot-shots from all over the world. It was not an opportunity to turn down, and especially because of Pete’s par on hole 6, it will be an experience that is forever remembered.

Hiking and More Hiking

The more miles we put under our hiking boots, the more attached we become to a place. And we did our fair share of trekking in Nova Scotia! The province offers so much variety in terrain and scenic views that comparisons are impossible for us to pick just one experience.

We loved the forested Liscomb River Trail that led to a small suspension bridge overlooking a waterfall. Eatonville Trail in Cape Chignecto Provincial Park was a wonderful consolation for the fact that our kayak tour was canceled that day; we stumbled into the park and onto that trail which included a detour to a secluded beach that we had all to ourselves.

And finally, the Skyline Trail on Cape Breton Island was certainly a memorable one, and not just for the sensational ocean views, but for the personal challenge it presented.

Eating all the Lobster Rolls

I’m not a seafood eater (I KNOW!) so I asked Pete about his favourite of this Nova Scotia staple, and like hikes, he couldn’t pick just one. I asked Pete how many lobster rolls he ate in Nova Scotia and he couldn’t tell me that either. Suffice to say, he tried a lot and by his estimation, it was never about the search for the best anyway. Sampling the variations on offer across the province is a divine experience itself. Why limit yourself to just returning for the subjective “best” when you can move on and try as many as possible?

Maybe not such a good philosophy for love, Pete contends (he’d better say that!), but with lobster rolls, he stands by it.

Driving Cabot Trail

This is hailed as one of the most scenic drives in the world, and for good reason. (Especially if you drive the western side during the evening golden hour – which we highly recommend – to see the contours of the road in drenched in that soft light.)

It is likely, if you afford yourself a good amount of time on Cape Breton Island (another thing we highly recommend!), that you will drive at least portions of the trail several times. Remind yourself in advance that efficiency is not the goal here – getting from start to finish is only made better by taking every side trip that your itinerary will allow. Don’t miss White Point Harbour if you can help it; and save time for stopping at such places as the Wreck Cove General Store for their legendary lobster sandwiches. Plan for dinner at the scenic Rusty Anchor, and also don’t miss the live music at the Red Shoe Pub.

Give yourself a whole week there if you can! You will not be disappointed.

Visiting the Tusket Islands

Being land-locked Albertans, maritime culture is not something that we ever truly understood (nor will we likely ever), but a trip out to the Tusket Islands gave us an impressive glimpse.

This archipelago of 200 islands south of Nova Scotia once served an important purpose. None are permanently inhabited, but they once were used as a layover for fishermen to cut down on commute time during peak fishing season. Now that fishing grounds are much farther offshore, the saved commute time is less significant, and the shanties constructed to house the fishermen now serve as summer homes. The docks are used for storage of lobster traps.

A trip to the islands, lead by legit lobster fishermen, is a historic journey to a remote part of the province that few people see. Topping it off with full Nova Scotian hospitality (music and food are included, of course!) and some epic fishing stories makes for a sensational and unique experience.

Canoeing in Keji

Kejimkujik National Park is actually split into two spots – the seaside location has some of the most brilliant beaches in Nova Scotia, but in all honesty, we’ll take the woodsy setting in the middle of the province on most any given day.

The lake by the same name is large and speckled with islands harbouring idyllic camping spots (one of the best places to go camping in Nova Scotia, without doubt). We cruised around the islands on canoe, so eager to park and make camp for a few days! The water was mirror-smooth, and our mid-week visit in fall meant that we had the whole place to ourselves.

It is always our goal to find such silent spots for solace (we’re selfish like that).

Two substantial gold rushes defined British Columbia in the mid-1800s. The more famous of the two, the Cariboo Gold Rush, graced some of the mountains and valleys in the photos below. It brought prospectors from around the globe, elevated the economy of every stop en route, and forever transformed a substantial area. Gold is still mined in the Cariboo Mountains, albeit with less fervour and more advanced mechanical techniques, and the now-diminished population reflects that. Whole towns have been ghosted.

But the draw of exploration remains. In the mist and drizzle of our first few days in the area, starting in the tiny town of Likely and making our way north to Wells and the iconic Barkerville, we both wanted to grab a pan and sift river bottoms. We wanted to kick rocks to see if anything sparkled from underneath. Not for the chance of riches but to transport us to the time when the Cariboo Gold Rush caused the whole area to ripple with frenzy.

Our days there indeed included a search – not for a precious metal but with our cameras angled for autumn and animals. The former we were surrounded by, with golden leaves that glistened in ubiquitous dew. With the latter, our prospect for grizzlies came up empty. But the rear of a bolting black bear, a moose on a meadow, bald-headed eagles, and several deer held our attention instead.

Our journey was not left wanting for riches.

Exploring the Cariboo Mountains

Likely, BC

While the official Gold Rush Trail begins hundreds of kilometres south of Likely, our journey began in this little town on the Quesnel River. It is one of the few gold rush settlements that remains. There’s only one store and a handful of houses, but it holds a draw for fishermen and adventurers alike for the surrounding nature. Our day trips from here included an expedition up the nearby Mitchell River and jaunts down many of the quiet roads in the area.

Making Our Way to Wells, BC

From Likely, we took the scenic route north and drove what is literally known as “the back road” to Wells. It is only a 150 km journey, but we made it last all day with an inestimable number of photo stops of the Cariboo Mountains and a lazy picnic lunch near waterfalls.

Visiting Wells, BC

On the edge of town, we were flagged down by a passerby. He gestured to the vast meadow that spread out from the road and opened with just one word: moose. There he was, a large bull just a couple hundred metres ahead. With a quick change of his camera lens, Pete was poised and began shooting. Within minutes, several others surrounded us as if they were gathered by some silent moose whistle that only townspeople could hear.

Their photography gear put ours to shame. For them, such a sighting was probably a regular occurrence, yet all were still determined to capture the scene. “It doesn’t get old,” one told us. Geoff, our guide, tested his moose calls to try and draw the bull closer. “It’s a special place.”

The population of this picturesque town may be a fraction of what it once was as a mining hub, but it is not lacking in allure. It has a tiny but strong community of artists and adventurers alike. Bright buildings sit on the edge of this vast meadow that teems with life. In the wintertime, it is a focal point for cross-country skiers and sledders. In the summer, it’s the starting point for the popular canoe circuit at Bowron Lake Provincial Park.

Barkerville, BC

Near to Wells is Barkerville, a world-class heritage site named after an English prospector who spearheaded growth in the region that eventually shaped the entire province.

In the summer it bustles as a living museum, with visitors weaving in and out of the over 100 structures that stand in the same spot as when they were built starting in the 1860s, and interacting with the actors in character from that period. Winter activities are planned but less involved. We visited just after the summer season had closed and had the town entirely to ourselves.

That doesn’t mean, however, that to visit means an absence of treasure.

We had to be mindful of our steps on a trail that was rough with roots and stones, while also focusing on the greenery that cropped up around it. Low bushes burst with blueberries, blackberries, crowberries, and cranberries that weren’t quite ready. We saw cloudberry plants but no berries and became obsessive in our search for them.

Which is exactly how we turned a small four-kilometer hike turned into a two-hour affair. When we weren’t watching our feet move, we were scouring for small treasures below and raising our eyes to the remarkable scenes above.

We arrived at Taylor Head Provincial Park late in the afternoon; as other hikers were finishing their trek, we were just beginning, and so thankful for it. As we rounded the shaded trail onto an open, cobbled beach and then the rocky shoreline facing west, the sunlight glowed softly over everything. Our berry hunting intensified along with our photo stops, in total ignorance of our stomachs that began to growl as the dinner hour approached.

The longer we lingered, the stronger the thought that began to form in my head: this park and this hike both served as a perfect metaphor for the location in which they were situated on the eastern shore of Nova Scotia. It’s not highly visited and a bit rough around the edges, but those that take the time to pay attention to details, or to lift their heads to soak in the beauty, are highly, highly rewarded.

This was our third trip to Nova Scotia in four years. On our first, we rounded the south, on our second, we careened around Cape Breton Island. Both trips were immensely satisfying and deeply rooted our love for the province. This third trip, however, I think we were most eager for.

Precisely because, in the age of overtourism, this large swath of the popular province somehow has remained an elusive road-less-traveled. And if you know us at all, you know that makes it immediately enticing.

Marine Drive stretches up the eastern shore of the province, with freshwater lakes on one side, ocean and 178 wild islands on the other. It twists and it winds, sometimes shrouded in thick greenery, but also running through windswept towns and along immaculate white-sand beaches. It has spots as scenic as any other in the province, and adventures as beguiling, or even more so, if you are looking for something that not everyone has done.

Here’s the best of what we got up to.

taylor head provincial park

We’ve visited parks a’plenty in Nova Scotia on all three trips, and Taylor Head quickly catapulted to the top.

It started with that memorable hike. As typically early risers, we tend to stuff such activities into our mornings, but this late day trek had us rethinking that strategy. The dusky light fell so exquisitely, and by early evening the day-trippers had long left, leaving much of the path to us only. I forgot that I was hungry. I forgot that we had already exerted a good amount of energy in kayaks that morning. It was one of those activities that I wished had gone on for much longer.

And that isn’t all that Taylor Head has to offer. There are several more marked hikes – including an extension to the one we were on – plus a beautiful stretch of beach that we luxuriated on for a short while as well. A solo windsurfer dazzled us as he bounced on the waves – we were somewhat jealous of his skills but also happy to just watch on in admiration.

norse cove

Experiencing Norse Cove wasn’t on our itinerary – but when our sailing trip to the Wild Islands was so sadly canceled due to weather, our guide suggested a day and night on Norse Cove, and we’re so glad he did. The harsh weather stayed farther offshore, leaving us with a sunny day that was entirely perfect.

It included a morning kayak, the late afternoon hike at nearby Taylor Head Provincial Park, and a seaside seafood feast that rivalled any restaurant we’ve been to. We snuggled in a cozy cabin for the night as crashing waves soothed us to sleep. Included were long discussions with our guide Ryan about life-changing decisions, travel, and living on the Eastern Shore of Nova Scotia. One word to most aptly describe our day is: deep. And immensely appreciated.

BEACH HOPPING

The parking lot was full and Lawrencetown Beach was busy – we had arrived, completely unbeknownst to us, during a surfing competition. Call me exceptionally naive, but I had no idea that surfing even existed here. I’ve never had a desire to try the sport, but I felt compelled just then, as the waves seemed rather uniform and not too terrifying. (That is probably me just being naive again though, as I am sure it is much harder than it looked.)

A little further north we also found Clam Harbour Beach, which was recommended to us by a local as the best one around. We saw no surfing here, just a good number of families enjoying the very long stretch of white sand.

LISCOMBE LODGE

We arrived at Liscombe Lodge, overlooking the Liscomb River, shrouded in threatening clouds. We were itching to hike (as we often are), but knew that rain was in the forecast. We summarized our two choices: go for a swim in the hotel pool or suck it up and get on a trail. The lady at the front desk reminded us: “Well, you’re going to get wet either way.”

Good point. We chose the trail.

Pete immediately referred to the area as Ferngully and was bang-on in his declaration. The hike we took started on the Lodge property and is a 9.6km loop on a well-marked but sometimes overrun trail. This trek also includes a goal: it leads to a scenic suspension bridge at roughly the halfway point. The bridge was a shaky one, but worth crossing for the waterfall view to the left and an overhead look at the quiet creek to the right.

Back at the Lodge, we tucked into some pretty excellent meals and let our Ferngully experience continue. The restaurant is walled with windows on the riverside, with numerous bird feeders wooing all the pretty winged things into our view. The river beckoned to be discovered via canoe, but the weather kept us at bay. This is exactly “our kind of” place, and somewhere that we’d love to return to.

SHERBROOKE VILLAGE

Pro tip: if you’re asked if you’d like to experience something in costume, ALWAYS say yes.

In the 1860s, Sherbrooke was a boomtown, with tall ships bringing prosperity up the St. Mary’s River. Now, the village stands almost exactly as it once was, and its 25 heritage buildings make up the largest museum in all of Nova Scotia. And the best part about visiting Sherbrooke Village is that you can quite literally step into what life was like then.

By that, I mean you can step out of your jeans and into a hoop skirt or suspenders and a bowler. And I am not lying when I say that it certainly transformed our experience there. The villagers (in costume) made it a point to address us differently than other visitors, and by the end of the day I was curtseying and Pete had perfected an effortless hat tip.

GUYSBOROUGH PHOTO CRAWL

The county of Guysborough is big (encompassing a large chunk of the Eastern Shore), but the town itself is home to almost 1,000 people near the easternmost tip of the province. The historic (and stunning) Des Barres Manor housed us for a night, but on the next day, with the forecast only offering us one last full day of sun during our trip, we scheduled ourselves a photo crawl.

Marine Drive has a wee offshoot road to the small, historic town of Canso. After snapping some in the town of Guysborough itself, we took the coastal drive there and made several stops along the way. Our only wish is that we had also saved time for a trip to the nearby Grassy Island National Historic Site – an important spot in the early days of the French-English struggle for control of Canada.

We racked up a lot on the odometer during this trip, and came away with an immense appreciation for all that Nova Scotia offers beyond what is visited most.

And we realized that it takes a visit to the Eastern Shore to really “get it”.

where we stayed

Salmon River Country Inn, Head of Jeddore: Hunble and clean lodging in a perfect, central location for exploring a lot north and south on Marine Drive. Also home to an excellent restaurant and an awesome spot to take outstanding sunset photos.

Norse Cove Camping: This may sound cheesy, but we both felt like we really appreciated the Eastern Shore more by being this close to nature. The cabins are simple (only contain two beds!) but they are new, clean, and with all the services you need nearby. Our only complaint is that the trails to the cabins can get a little confusing (especially after a middle-of-the-night bathroom run), but waking up with the ocean a few feet from us made it all worthwhile.

Liscombe Lodge: Loved everything about our stay here, and would have loved to park it here for a few days to explore all of Ferngully.

DesBarres Manor Inn: An immaculately maintained historic building and the meals offered onsite are award-winning! (Pete declared his haddock dinner the best fish dish he’s ever had – and that’s saying a lot.)

It wasn’t enough for us to indulge in all the food of Prince Edward Island. We wanted to experience it.

lobster fishing

There was a time, in the not too distant past, where lobster was considered poor man’s food.

“My father,” stated Mark, a fourth generation lobster fisherman, “he was bullied for taking lobster sandwiches to school.” Before arriving on the school grounds, he would peel the meat out from between the bread and leave it in a garbage can.

Seems unfathomable, both Pete and I thought. Nowadays, lobster are considered an utterly luxurious food, and along with Pete’s quest to find the best servings across the province, we wanted to learn more about the act of fishing them as well.

It may not have actually been lobster season, but here we were with Captain Mark and his fishing partner Cody, pushing out into the harbour of Charlottetown on a grey and dreary morning. We were searching for their buoys of black and gold and to see firsthand the process required to retrieve what they might hold inside. Yes, because it was off-season the lobsters (and crab) were staged, and we weren’t actually going to be eating what we caught, but that was not the point. We were here to learn.

Lobster fishing is not a year-round affair; the seasons are carefully controlled so as to protect the population. During Mark’s short season he hauls in every trap every day – all 272 of them – until the quota is reached. Except for Sundays that is, as there is an island agreement that everyone takes that day off. It’s not the only unwritten rule among the fisherman as everyone’s placement of traps is also acknowledged and respected. There is a strong sense of community, and the desire to have “everyone win”.

At the first trap, one of the youngest in our tour helped to pull it in. With a long hooked pole she effortlessly snagged the line attached to the buoy. Draping and towing the rope over a pulley, Mark hoisted the trap to the surface and hauled it onto the boat. Three different times, traps were pulled at three different locations. The critters inside were brought out for display and discussion.

We learned of the difference between the sexes, the measurements for which they could be kept or tossed, and how technology has even evolved with the traps. When the GoPro first came out, they attached one to a trap and left it submersed for three hours. It was the first time they were able to watch the pattern of their crustacean targets, and to contemplate the effectiveness of their traps. It resulted in immediate changes in design, and an increase of 30% in their catches.

(This appealed to the analytical nerd in me. Coming into this I already had a romantic notion of a life on the water, and that fact amplified it. Of course, the life of a fisherman is not near as dreamy as I imagine it to be, but I’ll just continue to pretend that it is.)

“In the winter we drink beer, play hockey, and build traps,” Mark said, “in that order.” To these two Canadians, that sounds pretty good.

clamming

John seemed an unlikely tour guide — soft spoken, devoid of any emphatic displays or exaggeration of storytelling – traits that usually lend to others in his position. Might I say that I think that makes him the perfect tour guide? He was so clearly knowledgable of his craft, living in a place he loves, and sharing the joy of his work with the many who visit.

Along with his wife Jackie, they own a beautiful house on the Pinette River. In their backyard, we loaded up with bug spray and clamming tools and descended the stairs and onto the muck below. With the tide out, the bay was rust red with streaks of tepid water left behind several hours before. The conditions were perfect to begin our hunt.

As instructed, we placed the shovel a few inches behind a tiny hole in the otherwise smooth sand, indicative of a clam underneath. The bigger the hole, the bigger the clam, usually. We carefully pressured the shovel into the sand with the sole of one foot and then turned the earth over slowly in an effort to not crack the soft shells. On almost every turn, we found clams, and checked the size against the guide on the size of our bucket. Smaller clams were returned to the sand, larger ones were kept for a future feast.

In the muddier sections, quahogs were our quest. They sit just below the surface; they are a little more durable and easily raked up.

In all, we spent no more than an hour mucking in the mud, probably less, and we had the freedom to come and go from John and Jackie’s house as we pleased. But Pete and I were the last two to leave, thoroughly enjoying the pursuit and in my case, the feel of the mud between my toes (my sandals were a hindrance to any movement in the sticky mud, I quickly set them aside and got back to clammin’).

While our treasures were sent off to be cleaned, the group ate yesterday’s catch that Jackie cooked up during our dig. Clams cooked only in their own juice with celery and carrots and served with butter, the quahogs came later. Beyond our catch: a mussel station, an assortment of vegetables and cold beverages, and even Jackie’s homemade donuts.

I am not an eater of fish or seafood and I devoured the donuts (so greedily as to not have even bothered to take a photo of them). But whether I ate the results of our efforts or not mattered none – on this day it was the experience that mattered.

how to do it

Our lobster fishing experience through Top Notch Charters was so informative and enthralling. The lobster fishing industry is such an important part of Maritime culture that this is truly not to be missed.

Same goes for our experience with Happy Clammers! And the very best part of our afternoon is that we felt like we were visiting the home of friends. The hospitality and warmth of John and Jackie is a perfect display of what the people of Atlantic Canada are all about.

It’s the kind of locale we dream of stumbling upon as travelers.

It’s remote, off-the-grid. There is no mention of it anywhere in Lonely Planet.

There are few, if any, tourists. It’s as ‘local’ an experience as you could ever hope to find. It teems with the natural beauty of large rolling fields, multi-toned forests, and crumbling farm buildings speckling the countryside. For anyone inclined to explore the outdoors, there are any number of entertaining options. And if you’re up late (or early, as it may be) at the right time of year, expect to be treated to flashes of green and yellow northern lights dancing across the sky.

It’s the Peace River Country in the northwest corner of Alberta, and it also happens to be where I grew up. And upon my return after a two year absence, I’m looking at it in a whole new way.

It’s no longer the place I couldn’t wait to get away from. I don’t care that it doesn’t have the energy and amenities of a big city. It’s quiet, it’s remote, and it’s oh-so-beautiful.

The Dunvegan Valley is still one of my favourite places in the world, especially in fall as the colours begin to turn.

Picturesque trails are ample and peaceful.

This picture was taken just outside my old backyard. I don’t remember the sunsets ever being this brilliant.

This is the farm that my grandmother grew up on. I can’t believe I had never been there before, and could have taken pictures for hours.

If I was not suffering from a permanent travel bug infestation (and, they could do something about the chilly winters), I could see myself living there again. The only thing it is missing for me is the challenge of exploring somewhere unfamiliar, of fumbling my way around with maps and a dictionary to translate.

So it clearly can’t be my “undiscovered gem”. But maybe it can be yours.

All the locals we met in Quebec’s capital were jovial and welcoming, perhaps impressed with our month-long commitment to their city during the depths of winter. They often apologized for their English while asking of our French, to which we quickly revealed our incompetence. It was of no matter though, and at times we even felt welcomed into an exclusive brotherhood forged of frosty endurance.And within our month we were exposed to the full cycle of their Canadian winter. We felt the fierce bite of temperatures nearing -30C and several days when we couldn’t bear the thought of going outdoors, especially given that the intensity of a snowstorm wouldn’t permit us to see anything anyways. On other days, warm rain thawed the city and eliminated the banks of snow. Our Christmas Day was not a white one.

But for the majority of our time, it was exactly as we had hoped it would be: old cobbled streets were covered by a thick blanket of snow and icicles reflected the rainbow of Christmas lights. Sidewalks were filled with people enjoying their holidays – at -15C we expected a small crowd out for New Year’s Eve celebrations but instead found ourselves in the middle of a swinging street party.

On those days there is no other city in Canada that can match the magic of winter in Quebec or a Quebec City Christmas. It’s debatable whether the best moments of summer even come close. And these are the ones we will remember. Nous nous souviendrons.

Given that the Quebec winter endeared instead of scared us, we are vowing to return one day to enjoy the Quebec Winter Carnival!