British Columbia’s Best: Choosing A Car Accident Lawyer

British Columbia’s Best: Choosing A Car Accident Lawyer – After a few years (mostly) Canadians have a major case for wanderlust. While the old travel booking sites (Montreal, Vancouver, Banff, Niagara) are reliable for a reason, many people are looking for somewhere less touristy, less crowded and less expensive. This is where this list comes in. We asked our panel of writers from around the country to tell us about their favorite destinations for hidden gems. They delivered. The following pages contain a collection of inspiring under-the-radar vacation spots: lively small towns to embark on great outdoor adventures with puffins and bison, delicious and diverse food on both coasts, and ambitious tours around the province. This is a journey. guide and an intimate portrait of Canada that you will rarely see.

My first summer in Whitehorse was an eye opener. Around 10:00 PM the sunlight was fading through my bedroom window. As I was running through the middle of the Yukon River, a bald eagle swooped down on me. My roommate brought home a fish he caught that day and cooked it for dinner in our kitchen. Mountains everywhere.

British Columbia’s Best: Choosing A Car Accident Lawyer

It was 2014 and I had moved from Hamilton, Ontario to Whitehorse to work at the newspaper. I intended to stay a year. I went to university in Toronto and loved the chaos of the big city; I didn’t hike, camp, or spend time outside. Sometime during that first summer, I told my mom on the phone, “I’m going to move out and live here.” With a population of about 30,000, Whitehorse has a small-town feel. But as the Yukon’s capital, it feels more cosmopolitan than you might expect. It has a vibrant arts and culture scene with galleries, performance venues and museums. My first summer, I went to a Nuit Blanche event under the midnight sun. For 12 hours, half of which the sun shone, people wandered from installation to installation, admiring 3D projections of riverside landscapes, listening to live music from church pews and seeing live breakdancing and graffiti.

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In the 10 years I’ve been here, a bunch of amazing and exciting new restaurants have opened. Wayfarer Oyster House offers fresh seafood in a brewery, while Gather Cafe, connected to a glassblowing studio, offers tacos filled with locally grown charcoal. As for lodging, the Raven Inn is a short walk from the main street, and the Black Spruce offers luxury Scandinavian-inspired cabins, both of which are open to tourists year-round.

Yes, all year round. While the long, warm days of summer offer endless opportunities for hiking, running and biking in the wilderness (Grey Mountain and Mount McIntyre are two beautiful trail networks located within the city), Whitehorse is just as charming in the winter. The cold creates a dense fog of snow that hangs over the Yukon River, and the darkness brings a surreal pink sky at sunrise and sunset. Winter is the best time to visit the Eclipse Northern Hot Springs, a recently opened oasis north of the city where thick steam rises from the water, bleaching your lashes of snow. In the colder months, visitors enjoy dog ​​sledding and the northern lights, while locals head to the frozen lakes for ice fishing or hit the trails on fat bikes, snowshoes, and cross-country skis.

Two First Nations women recently started businesses that bring visitors to the land. At Pelly Crossing, a three-hour drive north of Whitehorse, Terri-Lee Isaac runs Tachon Tours, which offers riverboat tours to historic Fort Selkirk, where the Huacha Hudan, known today as the Selkirk First Nation, will meet Tiling. ashore After trade, Fort Selkirk became the Hudson Bay trading post in the 1850s. Dinjii Zhuh Adventures, meanwhile, is based in Whitehorse and offers guided canoe trips through the Yukon and Northwest Territories. Bobby Rose Co. it is owned by the Teetlit Gwich’in of Fort McPherson in the Northwest Territories.

A year after arriving at UConn, I decided I needed a career change, so I moved back to Ontario. A few days before he left, he had three small mountains tattooed on his arm. The transition back home was not smooth – I moved back to Whitehorse for good in 2017. I miss the open-minded people, the clear skies and the proximity to nature (there are beautiful forest trails within a five-minute walk of the House Mine. ). Here, you can walk out your front door on a cool night and watch the aurora dance above you. Walking until 23.00. Under the rainbow, the summer sun lights your way. You can bike along the blue-green waters of the Yukon River to an art exhibit or brewery downtown. Living here is almost like experiencing the best. I can’t imagine calling home anywhere else.

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The south bank of the river St. Lawrence is home to gem towns, wild vistas and all-you-can-eat shrimp rolls.

Bas-Saint-Laurent has a 300 km long coastline. It’s also easy to get completely lost. I know 50 hikes along the south bank of the St. Lawrence, between Fredericton, where I grew up, and Montreal, where I moved to when I was 17. Objective: Get there as fast as possible. As much as possible, that means sticking with TransCanada. The St. Lawrence always seemed peripheral, and the impressive little towns along its banks were all but gone.

Then I had kids and the approach to motoring changed: go early, stop often. Another transplant from New Brunswick suggested Auberge sur Mer, an inn in the small town of Notre-Dame-du-Portage, south

of Rivière-du-Loup, as a good place to end the trip. His happy place, he called it.

When I first turned off the freeway on an August afternoon three years ago, I got it. The road—Costa de la Mer—was so steep that we felt as if we were drowning in the water, which, from there somewhere, suddenly passed in front of us. We walked down to the water level, where neat houses with names like Summer Charm, Island Shelter, and Little Swimmers lined either side of the only street in town.

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Notre-Dame-du-Portage also became my happy place. We swam in the heated salt water pool outside. I had the best pepperoni pizza I’ve ever had (and I’ve had a lot) at Pizzeria des Baturs. We ate oysters, clams and burrata over the water at the inn’s restaurant. We walked on the beach, played on the playgrounds by the river, and ate soft serve ice cream as the sun set. All day we marveled at the St. Lawrence: its brilliance, its mood, and above all, its immensity.

In fact, its size is still a source of confusion and conversation for my four-year-old oldest. “Look, mom,” he said last July. “The sea!” His short pant legs were rolled up and his blonde hair was blowing in the wind with all the salt water. Her little fingers dug into the muddy sand. I was so happy and so happy. Pretty sure he hated to burst his bubble.

And I couldn’t blame him. North of Quebec City, St. The Lawrence is really starting to widen, and the word “river” just doesn’t cut it where we are, no matter what a map might tell us. The waters before us were vast and unforgiving. The sky was overcast, the fog obliterating any sense of the horizon, creating an uninterrupted gray background. So I suggested naming them

Drive up and down Route 132, a scenic highway that parallels the Trans-Canada Highway. It took us from lobster poutine at La Pocatière to a glass of natural Quebec wine in Camoursca’s Côte Est backyard, to basking in the sun among seals and mudflats in Bic National Park, to a roll of Nordic prawns served on a squid ink. bun with an oyster. – Antipasto with mushrooms at Cantine Cottier de Saint-Fabian. I finished this year

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, on Île Verte, a small island a few kilometers off the coast, with 28 year-round residents, a small seasonal restaurant and zero ATMs. We reserved our motel (a simple five-unit unit on the south bank of the St. Lawrence) a few months ago by putting a $50 deposit check in the mail. It was magical.

Since that first summer, a stopover in Buses-Saint-Laurent has become part of our East Coast itinerary. Now, it is not a stop but a destination. And we will be back. After all, you can’t visit the same thing

Every summer for the past decade, my family has escaped to a rental cottage in the village of North Lake, a five-minute walk from the local lobster fishing port and a five-minute drive from East Point, P.E.I.’ s Land’s End. Every morning, my wife and I sit on the covered porch in the salty breeze overlooking the Gulf of St. Lawrence, morning coffee in hand, to plan.