Vancouver: Jetlag and Joy

If I close my eyes, I can still smell cedar on the breeze, feel the sharp freshness of mountain air, and taste the rich ramen broth that welcomed us to Vancouver. We were jetlagged, a little bewildered, but wide-eyed with anticipation. This was the start of five weeks that would reshape what adventure means to us.

We landed groggy yet buzzing with that “new country” excitement. Outside, the air was damp and cool; inside, Vancouver’s embrace was warm and immediate. Our first meal—a steaming bowl of ramen—was rich, restorative, and exactly what travel-weary souls need. We tried to push through the tiredness but inevitably crashed around 7 p.m.

By sunrise, our body clocks had us up and out early. Breakfast at OEB  was the perfect start before we hopped aboard the False Creek ferry, a breezy open-air ride through the city’s heart. Olympic Village, Science World, Granville Island, Kits Beach—they all gave us a little glimpse into Vancouverite life. That night, dinner came courtesy of room service, and to Lee Ann’s delight, she could order a glass of milk. Big, adventurous travellers indeed.

On day two, we borrowed the hotel’s free bikes and pedalled the famous seawall loop around Stanley Park—a radiant green gem framed by the city’s glass fronted towers and distant mountains. Veering off into quieter trails, we found ourselves at Beaver Lake, where still waters mirrored the trees. A late lunch on Robson Street, an iced coffee and sweet treat from JJ Beans, and we were boarding the bus to Whistler, ready for the next chapter.

To Whistler: Wild Trails, Cold Lakes and Unexpected Reunions

Two weeks in Whistler brought alpine trails, icy swims, surprise reunions, and those moments where you pause mid-step and think: this is exactly why we left the 9-to-5 behind.

The bus ride from Vancouver set the tone—city streets giving way to jagged cliffs, turquoise inlets, and forests tumbling down to the Pacific. By the time we rolled into Whistler, we were already spellbound.

Our first morning, the discovery of the free weekend shuttle had us on our way to the Rainbow Lake Trail. Within minutes, the forest swallowed us whole—just birdsong, the crunch of boots, and that clean mountain smell. By the time we reached the lake at 5,000ft, we were in love. A perfect trail to pop our Canadian hiking cherry. The bus driver had reassured us the only bears around were “friendly” black bears, but that didn’t stop us from scanning the shadows. (See our YouTube video for the full story.)

The next day was slower but no less special. A short stroll from the village took us to Lost Lake, where paddle boarders skimmed over glassy water reflecting the forest. We couldn’t resist—one cold plunge later, it felt like someone had hit our reset button. The icy swim even worked wonders for Lee Ann’s wonky feet.

Canada Day in Whistler brought a mix of zen and adrenaline: free morning yoga with 100 other yogis, then the Peak to Peak Gondola—an awe-inspiring ride between Whistler and Blackcomb. A short hike on Blackcomb gave us snowy mountain views under bluebird skies, and that night we swayed to live music from Bahamas at Olympic Plaza.  We captured it all in this short video.

One of the biggest surprises? Reuniting with Tina and Rick, friends we’d met on Portugal’s Fisherman’s Trail. Together we tackled the turquoise trio of Joffre Lakes—Lower, Middle, and Upper—before a celebratory dinner in Pemberton, the air buzzing with that rare joy of reconnecting with kindred spirits in their magical home country.

Back in Whistler, we explored the Valley Trail by bike, pedalling to Green Lake, Alta Lake, and Alpha Lake. It’s an incredibly bike-friendly place—flat paths, stunning views, no traffic stress. Up on Blackcomb again, the Overlord Trail and Decker Loop took us through wildflower meadows, past glacial lakes, and along snowy ridgelines. Marmots popped up like furry sentinels, and on the gondola ride down, we even spotted a bear. That night, a little après in the village flowed into a serendipitous Wild Rivers concert at Olympic Plaza.

Rainy days had their magic too. At the Squamish Lil’wat Cultural Centre, we learned how First Nations communities have lived here for generations—their deep respect for the land, the mountains, and the rivers really resonated with us. There’s so much wisdom in their way of life—living simply, moving with the rhythms of nature, using sustainable skills passed down through generations. In a world that feels increasingly fast-paced and digital, it was a powerful reminder of the value of slowing down, reconnecting with the earth, and walking more gently through it.

Then came the Train Wreck Hike, where graffiti-covered boxcars lay scattered in the forest like some surreal open-air gallery—and yes, another bear sighting. The River of Golden Dreams was just as whimsical as it sounds. Canoeing was trickier than expected, especially in shallow, winding sections, but we felt like full-fledged Canadians by the end.

As if to gift us one last high, the High Note Trail opened just days before we left. Hiking it felt like the perfect closing chapter—wild, unexpected, and jaw-droppingly beautiful. Check it out on our video.

Two weeks of nature, connection, and the unknown. Whistler, you were a dream.

The Grand Tour: Guided Hiking Through British Columbia and Alberta

Two weeks, countless miles on foot, and one brilliant guide—Adrienne from White Mountain Adventures—made this a trip we’ll never forget. From ancient rainforests to flower-filled meadows, from glacier-fed lakes to sweeping ridgelines, it was the hiking-in-the-Rockies dream we’d been carrying for years.

But it wasn’t just about the views. It was the people we shared them with, the summit treats (more on those later), and the quiet moments of awe that reminded us why we’re out here, climbing every mountain we can.

From City Streets to Cedar Forests

We began back in Vancouver, where old-growth forests brush right up against the skyline. Before the hiking started, we soaked up the city: iced coffee and a cinnamon bun in a cosy café, cold local beer at a lively gay bar on Davie Street, and sunset at English Bay with our new hiking group.

Our first trail—Hollyburn Mountain—introduced us to British Columbia’s wilder side: moss-draped trees, towering Douglas firs, and views stretching across the Strait of Georgia. The fact that you can step from city to wilderness in under an hour still amazes me.

After sightseeing around Stanley Park, Gastown, and Lions Gate Bridge, we headed for Manning Park Resort—our base for the next two nights. Think mountain lodge vibes with a pub amusingly named The Bears Den (IYKYK).

The next morning’s Skyline Loop Trail was a panorama parade—Cascade Mountains as far as the eye could see, alpine meadows unfolding to the horizon. We cooled off with a swim in Lightning Lakes, then embraced the true hiker’s gourmet: instant noodles and tuna on rice cakes in our room. Lee Ann was delighted.

The Heather Trail came next—high alpine beauty without a brutal ascent, thanks to the lofty trailhead. Blooming meadows, quiet forest stretches, and ridgelines with endless views… all gorgeous, except for the enthusiastic bugs.

Into the Selkirks & Meadows in the Sky

Leaving the Cascades, we overnighted in Merritt—a town we’d politely call “functional.” The highlight? A sports bar with both Celtic and Rangers strips on the wall, keeping the peace.

Revelstoke brought a change of scenery—thick temperate rainforest giving way to high alpine lakes. The hike to Eva and Miller Lakes in Mt. Revelstoke National Park was a feast of wildflowers, snow patches, and icy blue water. Marmots, pikas, and chipmunks kept us entertained, even if the mosquitoes did their best to cut things short. We stayed at the Coast Hillcrest Hotel, where a hot tub facing the Selkirks and dinner in The Begbie Room gave us two comforting tastes of home.

The Trail of the Giant Cedars was a short but humbling stop—towering trunks older than we could imagine. Then came Balu Pass in Glacier National Park: 780m of elevation gain, lungs and legs burning, but views of Mt. Sir Donald made every step worth it. The “loo with a view” at the saddle was also unforgettable (for different reasons).

We moved on to Kicking Horse Resort near Golden, where we took a chairlift to meet Boo the grizzly—a celebrity bear in Canada—and hiked up an old bike trail. Cloud cover muted the Rockies’ drama, but the sheer scale was still striking. Emerald Lake was next, rainy skies turning it a deep, moody turquoise.

Bucket Lists & Brownies

Then came the trail we’d been dreaming about: the Iceline in Yoho National Park. Takakkaw Falls roared beside us at the start, clouds dispersing to reveal the Rockies, and the Emerald Glacier loomed above the valley like something out of another world.

Adrienne’s energy, knowledge, and endless stash of two-bite brownies kept the group fuelled and laughing. By now, our seven hikers—from LA, Chicago, the UK, and Malaysia—felt like old friends.

Big Beehive & Bowls of Blue

Lake Louise was the cliché we hoped would be worth it—and it was. Hiking up to Lake Agnes and the Big Beehive gave us that iconic bird’s-eye view of turquoise water, far above the tourist crush. A tip: the crowds thin out once you’re on the trails.

From there, we rolled into Canmore, our final stop. The drive alone—mountains stacked to the horizon, glacier-fed rivers cutting through the valleys—was worth the trip.

Our Final Summit

Our last hike took us to Yamnuska Ridge in the Kananaskis region, with views sweeping from the Rockies to the prairies. It felt symbolic—ocean to mountains to open plains, all in one journey. A scramble up “the chimney” got us to the lower ridge, where we stood taking it all in.

That night’s farewell dinner was bittersweet: toasts, stories, and that shared knowledge that we’d all just lived something extraordinary.

Check out all the action in our videos:

Part 1 - Hollyburn, Skyline Trail, Heather Trail, Eva Lake, Balu Pass

Part 2 - Kicking Horse, Emerald Lake, Iceline Trail, Big Beehive

Canmore: Rest, Reflection, and More Adventure

After our guided trip, we gifted ourselves six more days in Canmore—a chance to slow down, savour, and let our legs recover. Rain and cloud rolled in, but we didn’t mind. Our apartment in Spring Creek was the perfect hideaway, and the weather gave us an excuse to linger over coffee and just be.

When the sun returned, we couldn’t ignore the two peaks we’d been eyeing from our balcony. Ha Ling and Miners Peak were short but steep climbs, rewarding us with 360-degree views of the Rockies and the valley below.

We took the free local bus to the Grassi Lakes trailhead—an easy walk through forest to lakes so vividly turquoise they looked painted. We lunched under shady trees, watching rock climbers scale the cliffs beside us, then floated down the Bow River in the evening light, scanning the banks for beavers.

One of our favourite days was cycling the scenic path between Canmore and Banff. Riding with the Rockies towering on either side felt surreal. In Banff, we grabbed iced coffees and a riverside picnic, happily avoiding the bustle of Main Street. Banff is stunning, but Canmore’s relaxed charm had won us over.

Canmore felt like the heart of what we’d come to love about Canada—dramatic peaks, warm smiles, cute cafés, and a pace that invites you to breathe deeply. Even as we zipped our bags, we knew we’d be back someday.