In the spring of 1639, three young nuns set sail from France, each carrying a hidden key in her habit. Upon landing in the new settlement of Quebec City, they would unseal three sturdy locks on a large wooden trunk that safeguarded all their worldly goods. It also contained something invaluable—a contract to found a monastery hospital, the first in North America outside Mexico.

Little did they realize that one of their future guests* would become Canada’s most notorious** hotel thief, taking three round canisters with them in their luggage after their visit.



*Me. This story is about me.





** The dozen or so people who know this story won’t stop teasing me about it.

When I travel, I like to explore twists and turns: A windy road, a crooked bookstore, the cozy nooks in tiny coffee shops. What I don't like, and generally avoid at all costs, are ups and downs. I avoid mountains, caves, ledges, edges, ladders, crevices, tunnels, and trenches. I am not a gal designed for adventure and I'm rather proud of the fact that I've proved that you can travel around the world without the need to parachute, paraglide, or procure a pair of trekking poles. 

But every now and then, there's a chink in my armour. I ignore decades of ironclad evidence that I don't have daring bone in my body and I do something rash, something utterly beyond my bravery. And that, precisely, is what I found myself doing at the Mont-Orford Ski Resort in Quebec's Eastern Townships.

This is what happens when an anti-adventurist rides the world's tallest*, steepest*, most terrifying chair lift.

Looking for a sweet spot to visit this autumn, one filled with cinnamon, cider, and cozy vibes? You have to visit to Chazy Orchards in Chazy, New York. Located just minutes from the city of Plattsburgh and a short drive from Montreal, this is more than just a tasty culinary destination. Chazy Orchards is part of American food history, the world's largest McIntosh apple orchard, and an amazing dog-friendly site that is Clover-approved. Just look how cute she is sniffing the apples!

Picture this: Saint Croix Island, the first French settlement in Canada, where in 1604, 79 brave souls faced a winter beyond description. Water, food, and shelter were all but nonexistent. 35 men perished from the cold, disease, and lack of provisions (including scurvy-preventing vitamin-rich foods). If the French wanted to establish a presence in North America, something had to change, and quickly. 

It did. Thanks to the generosity of the local Mi’kmaq people, the French learned about a more hospitable site nearby on the mainland, a site that was likely very close to the current Port-Royal National Historic Site. Conditions improved, but life for a French soldier in the early 1600s was anything but luxurious. Scurvy persisted, and morale was poor. But what to do?

Turns out, soldiers living about 400 years ago are just like you and me. They work best with full bellies and a little good cheer. As such, in 1606 Samuel de Champlain founded The Order of Good Cheer, the first dinner club in Canada (and probably all of North America). These dinners were spirited affairs, complete with gourmet food and visiting dignitaries. Here's what it's like to walk in their footsteps.

If you're a Canadian of a certain age, you are undoubtedly familiar with the following words:

There are strange things done in the midnight sun
By the men who moil for gold;
The Arctic trails have their secret tales
That would make your blood run cold;
The Northern Lights have seen queer sights,
But the queerest they ever did see
Was that night on the marge of Lake Lebarge
I cremated Sam McGee.

Robert Service's haunting poem, The Cremation of Sam McGee, was required reading for me and just about every other Canadian school kid in the 1980s and 1990s. Little did I know that Service himself experienced a harrowing, haunting moment of his own - and that he may have been the source of someone else's ghostly encounter.

Oh, and of course, there's an ice cream shop involved. Welcome to ghost stories, Victoria-style.

​I can’t tell you when Labrador first hit my travel radar. 

This rugged, remote Canadian region, a part of the province of Newfoundland and Labrador but physically connected to north-east Quebec, is not a spot for a wimpy traveller like me. Distances are far, amenities can be sparse, and the mosquitoes will strip you bare in seconds. Yet the place they call The Big Land has been calling for me for years. Labrador has topped my travel wish list since the beginning of the pandemic. When I had the opportunity to visit as part of the annual Travel Media Association of Canada conference, I knew I had to go.

I dearly wanted to make Labrador’s acquaintance, but it’s doubtful that the region wanted the likes of me. I have no good reason to be enamoured with small Labrador fishing communities like Red Bay and Battle Harbour. My aversion to boats is both legendary and well-founded. Similarly, I can’t tell you why stories from events such as Cain’s Quest, Labrador’s legendary annual 3,100-kilometre snowmobile endurance race capture my heart. I dislike cold weather, sporty things, and noisy fanfare. Frankly, even the process of getting to Labrador is determinedly very non-Vanessa-ish. I like cold foam on coffee, not ferry decks, thank you very much. So, sure, the villages are cute, and the events are spirited, but this is clearly the kind of place I should appreciate through a documentary and not my own Gravol-addled brain. 

Thankfully, my heart is immune to common sense.

​"The smell of happiness is, for me, frying plantain in Barbados."

Shelina Permalloo is a British-Mauritian chef, restaurateur, and cookbook author specializing in Mauritian cuisine. She's known worldwide as the first woman of colour to win BBC's MasterChef competition in 2012, but when I met her, she was thrilled to simply be an attendee of the Barbados Food & Rum Festival (just like me!)

Permalloo first visited Barbados after finishing university (she reports: "There were 16 of us... and the island knew when we arrived!") That initial trip made some lasting impressions, as the large group quickly made friends with locals, got invited home for homemade dinners, and provided the future chef with an abiding love of Barbadian (Bajan) cuisine.

During the Food & Rum Festival's Chef Classics event (an intimate series of cooking demonstrations with celebrity chefs), Chef Shelina shared her thoughts on elevating traditional comfort food, embracing sustainable ingredients, and the special treats she can't live without when she travels.

Have you ever had one of those travel moments when you really, really want to visit a place but it seems that fate is determined to keep you away?

That's how I've felt about Island Chocolates in the small Prince Edward Island village of Victoria-By-The-Sea for YEARS now! I had the shop (and, specifically, their  chocolate-infused "factory coffee") since 2021. That autumn, Ryan and I rolled into town in the middle of a brutal rainstorm and we couldn't find the shop. This is clearly a reflection on how road-weary we were, as the shop is on MAIN STREET. We must have been a bit loopy in order to miss it. As such, our only moment of triumph from that visit was finding public washrooms. No chocolate for us.

I had a second chance in 2022 when I was visiting PEI with friends. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner in Victoria-By-The-Sea before taking a leisurely walk up to Island Chocolates... except that it was closed! Once again, it was our fault. We didn't look up the hours and it's not surprising that they'd be closed after supper time. 

Would my luck change in 2023? Well....