Family Winter Fun in the Outaouais

Posted on March 8, 2015 by James Ross

Winter in the Outaouais is not simply a season, but rather a time when the extensive outdoor region is transformed into a snowy playground, a place enticing and thrilling for the whole family, a perfect close-to-home destination for Spring Break. The Outaouais, (pronounced Oo-ta-way), is tucked between the Laurentian Mountains and the Canadian Shield and just across the Ottawa River from our nation’s capital.

For the Adults: Located just minutes from downtown Ottawa, Gatineau Park has one of the largest networks of cross-country ski trails in North America with over 200 kilometres of groomed runs and 45 kilometres of back-country trails. There are day shelters with wood-burning stoves, and cabins and yurts for overnight stays. We stayed in the cozy Muskrat cabin at Kenauk Nature, a private backcountry chalet on its own private lake, surrounded by 140 square kilometres of pristine wilderness.

For the Kids: Visit Parc Oméga, a wild animal park. Sitting behind the wheel of your vehicle you can follow the 10 kilometre road around a 1,500 acre park, and observe bison, muskox, bear, moose, deer and fox. Here you can slip on your snowshoes and go exploring among the elk and white-tailed deer, or stay overnight in one of the park’s new lodgings near the wolves’ enclosure: choose from a prospector tent, yurt or house on stilts. In the morning follow the Park guides as they feed the wild animals.

Another fun stop is at the Arbraska Laflèche Aerial Park where the kids will love the tree-top trekking, ziplining and the 55 other challenging obstacles that will have you dangling high above the ground. Once you have conquered the trees, your kids can experience life below the ground with a tour through the largest visited cave on the Canadian Shield.

For the Family: Discover a wealth of Canada’s culture as you travel across 1,000 years of history at the Canadian Museum of History. There is an imposing collection of totem poles as you discover the traditions and achievements of our nation’s First Peoples. While you are there, don’t miss the IMAX Theatre. When your family has worked up an appetite, then plan a trip around the world with the international cuisine of Buffet des Continents in Gatineau. You can choose from over 150 dishes inspired by the traditions of such places as China, Italy, France, Spain, the Middles East, India, Asian and North America.

The Outaouais region boasts a network of hundreds of kilometres of cross country ski and snowshoe trails. After a day out exploring, warm your toes at a trailside hut or rustic inn. Then there are caves to explore, nature to experience, the thrill of adventure parks and the wonder of museums. Your family has to experience this 30,000 square kilometre winter playground to believe it.

For more information:

www.outaouaistourism.com

www.parcomega.ca

www.arbraska.com/en/lafleche

www.kenauk.com

WINTER FUN IN QUEBEC

Posted on March 5, 2015 by James Ross

“Enjoy A European-style Winter Wonderland Experience.”

Somehow a family ski trip has become an annual March Break tradition – not surprising, since my wife is passionate about skiing. I’m okay with that, with the tiny proviso that every year we experience someplace different, a new unique and charming locale. This year, that would be Quebec, where winter is a season to be celebrated in toques and mitts – whether at the annual Quebec Carnival, with a stay in the Hotel du Glace, or skiing the nearby slopes of Mont Ste. Anne and Le Massif.

Quebec City is a four century old fortified city, full of historic sights and superb restaurants. Wandering the old city’s cobbled, snow-laden streets, sampling fondue, and touring the Ice Hotel, all served as my kids’ first introduction to a European-style winter experience. Enjoy the city by night and hit the slopes by day. The mountains surrounding the historic city — Mont-Sainte-Anne and Le Massif — boast enough diversity that regardless of skier ability, there’s compelling terrain. Long, meandering, easy-to-conquer runs snake down the sides of both resorts, but there are also steep slopes and glades galore for experts.

The coolest bar around at the Hotel du Glace in Quebec City

Mont-Sainte-Anne: Thirty minutes from Quebec City, Mont-Sainte-Anne tempts skiers and snowboarders with 67 trails spanning three sides of the mountain. It’s known for its slick, race-steep runs on the north side, and its Black forest glades on the south. For on mountain lodging, the Chateau Mont Sainte Anne is perfect for families, the only ski in ski out hotel in this region, so you can ski first tracks in the morning and end the day on the 19 lit trails.

For the kids: A permanent 7-metre high half-pipe, and a traditional slope-side Sugar Shack, dolling out maple taffy on snow.

View from Le Massif

Le Massif de Charlevoix: I have skied many beautiful resorts around the world, but few can compare with Le Massif de Charlevoix. Here, you actually arrive at the main lodge at the top of the mountain, and then ski down towards the banks of the Saint Lawrence River. The views are spectacular, sweeping eastward, the tide coming in from the Atlantic and the ice breaking up on the spectacular river. Le Massif is the most exciting resort on the Canadian ski map right now, the inspiration of Cirque de Soleil cofounder Daniel Gauthier. Everything is top notch, from the lifts and lodges to the grooming, the view and the perfect pitch of the runs. With eastern Canada’s largest vertical drop, Le Massif offers supreme skiing and snowboarding on 53 trails. The best way to get there is a leisurely one-hour train ride from Quebec City. The route runs along the scenic St. Lawrence River, with vistas of waterfalls, wooded hills and the spectacular Charlevoix landscape.

For the kids: Give rodelling a try, a brand of extreme sledding on a specially designed 7.5 km trail.

Quebec – where there’s nothing like a good winter celebration. My wife and I found that the coolest place for a cocktail is in a bar made of ice, and a new food we crave is some hot maple syrup on the snow at a mid-mountain Sugar Shack. Our accommodations included a bed of ice at the Hotel du Glace and a ski chalet with the fire crackling at Mont-Sainte-Anne.

For more information:

www.bonjourquebec.com

www.mont-sainte-anne.com

www.lemassif.com

Find Some New England Charm Skiing New Hampshire’s White Mountains

Posted on March 4, 2015 by James Ross

“Let’s ski the Whites,” my friend says every year when a family March break trip is being discussed. After finally agreeing to his suggestion, I was forced to admit that I didn’t even know where “The Whites” were – I had assumed they were big and white and in British Columbia. (New England … really?) In retrospect, I’m not surprised by my friend’s choice, he still likes to call things “groovy,” talks about shredding cord (groomed runs), and loves those circa 70’s juicy fruit commercials-so his desire to want to ski in a funky, frozen-in-time New Hampshire valley is easily explained.

Wildcat Mountain

It took me a little longer to convince. What I would find, however, was that a New England winter holiday offered much more than simply the skiing. History lingers in the Whites, in the century-old Inns and B&B’s, homey taverns, and gentle, family friendly hills, where you are not afraid to let your kids ski off on their own. The place is so retro you half expect to see skiers with wooden skis, lace-up boots and bamboo poles swoosh by. Seldom are there any lineups, especially since our school break differs from the local holidays, and you can ski a different mountain every day of your week-long stay, all within a short drive of each other.

The Mountains:

Attitash Mountain: Attitash and Bear offer up 120 hectares with 73 trails that wind through Bear’s woods. There are lots of choices for a day on slopes, and if the kids tire, they can tackle the Nor’Easter Mountain Coaster, a wilderness roller coaster that plummets through the trees.

Aprés-Ski: The Red Parka Steakhouse and Pub is legendary for its prime-rib dinners and a popular venue for live music on weekends. Photos on the wall portray the skiing history of the area dating back to the 1920’s, and don’t miss out on the quaint pub tucked at the back of the establishment, with licence plates from around North America tacked on its walls.

Bretton Woods: New Hampshire’s biggest ski area, featuring well-groomed snow, a variety of glades, and dramatic views of the highest peak on the Eastern Seaboard, Mount Washington . It’s a gentle hill more geared to families.

Aprés-Ski: Head to the spectacular Mount Washington Resort, one of only four remaining Grand Hotels, a sprawling white estate built in 1902. Show up at 10 a.m. under the grandfather clock in the lobby for a great free tour, or wander on your own through ballrooms, restaurants, cafés and bars.

Wildcat: You’ll find yourself distracted on your first few runs on Wildcat. It is the Northeast’s highest peak at 1,916 metres, with spectacular panoramas of Mount Washington. In fact, Ski magazine rates Wildcat tops for scenery in North America, and with no condos, its wild all around.

Aprés-Ski: Enjoy a dinner at the 1785 Inn, the oldest building in the Mt. Washington Valley. The kids loved the banana flambé, prepared with great zeal right at the table.

Cranmore Mountain: New England’s most historic and family-friendly ski areas, featuring 1,200 feet of vertical, five terrain parks, and alternative attractions like a mountain coaster, an adventure park with a zipline course, a giant swing, and a 10-lane snow-tube park.

Aprés-Ski: The Margarita Grill offers sustainable south-western inspired cuisine and the best margaritas anywhere. It has been awarded The New Hampshire Farm to Restaurant Connection certification for its commitment to buying from local growers and producers, one of four restaurants state-wide to achieve such status.

Skiing New Hampshire

The Jackson Cross Country Ski Centre is the best in the Northeast, with groomed trails running through town and into the forested hills. After the exercise, cozy up with a local micro-brew in front of the brick fireplace in Jackson’s Wildcat Inn. New Hampshire has a thriving micro-brew scene, with more than a dozen breweries state-wide.

New Hampshire’s White Mountains offer great groomed runs and grand glades. The proximity of ski areas allows visitors to sample multiple resorts on a single vacation, and visitors here can stay in historic hotels or country inns and experience the region’s Norman Rockwell culture up close. It is a postcard perfect kind of place.

Contact: www.mtwashingtonvalley.org

True Love, Old Age and the Cottage

Posted on February 12, 2015 by James Ross

“You’ve got to be kidding,” states my teenage daughter. “I thought we were going to watch a cool movie tonight … who are these old farts?” She is holding up the DVD case, on which is a sepia-toned photo of an old Katharine Hepburn and an equally ancient Henry Fonda. All my kids are staring at me, as is my wife. Well, actually, my son is taking advantage of the disruption to cram as much of the popcorn into his mouth as possible, without his sisters seeing or complaining.

I try to explain who they are – “You know, she was in African Queen.” “What?” “He’s Jane and Peter’s Dad” – blank looks, “you know, the Jane Fonda workout!”

I realize I may have made a bit of a mistake here. On a cold, rainy, miserable Spring evening, a rare night when there is nothing else on the go, I had received a call on my cell phone asking me if I wanted to pick up a movie on my way home. “There is nothing on tonight, so we thought we could watch a good family film,” says my wife.

I perused the new releases, the action thrillers, vampire movies, love stories and comedies, and found nothing that quite struck my fancy. I began glancing through old releases, and that is why I came across “On Golden Pond.” It seemed inordinately dusty. That should have been my first warning. The second should have come when the young female clerk began punching it into her register, stopped, looked at the jacket, scowled and shrugged. “Hmmm, never heard of that.”

I remember that my parents loved the movie “On Golden Pond.” She was Hepburn, he was Fonda, and the cottage played the starring role. Well, my dad has never been as cranky and cantankerous as the old curmudgeon Norman Thayer in the movie, nor my mom as dotty as Ethel Thayer, but it was the idea of the cottage and a summer at the lake that caught their fancy. My mother took to calling my dad an “old poop.”

I remember my parents trying to get us teenagers watching the movie when it first came out. We were equally as mortified at the prospect. Where was the action? Where were the car chases, gun battles, secret agents and scantily clad ladies? (Well, Jane Fonda in a bikini … if I’d only known). I had felt my own kids were more mature than I was. I put the movie in and we all start to watch. I bet they’ll like it, I thought. They barely make the opening credits. As I’m laughing at Fonda’s telephone antics, my oldest gets up, looks disgusted at me, and then turns to the others, “Who wants to play PS3?” They file out, my son taking the popcorn. I’m glad my wife remains, that is, until I throw a sheepish smile her way and notice that she is sleeping.

It is a dream many of us have. We long for that day when our work-a-day world is winding down, and we can head for the cottage shortly after the loons return to the lake in spring, and stay there until all the colourful autumn leaves have tumbled to the ground. There will be no work forcing us to commute, no soccer matches and hockey camps to schedule our cottage time around. We will be able to head up for most of the summer.

The trouble is, of course, that there is a short window between retirement and old age, when the daily rigours of camp chores and maintenance become harder to achieve. My folks still love to play the roles of Fonda and Hepburn, they love to head up to the cottage stage. They love it when the whole family is there, but it is hectic. They prefer being up there on their own. Frankly, we worry about them a bit. There are many things that could go wrong.

They relish the routine. Dad gets up early and delivers a coffee to mom in bed. He makes his famous cottage breakfast and they eat on the dock. They jump in the lake to cool off and do the front crawl out a hundred metres from the dock and then back. While they used to spring nimbly up on the end of the dock, they now walk out a little more gingerly to shore. Friends pass in boats and pull in for a chat. Sometimes dinner invitations are made. Mom sews new curtains for the cabin. They cease all work at 4 o’clock, the cocktail hour. Like Norman and Ethel, they hear their loons and grab the binoculars for a look.

We needn’t worry. They are fine at the cottage still. They have good friends who watch out for them. More importantly they have each other. Years of cottage experience more than make up for aging muscles. There is something to be said for true love, old age and the cottage.

Celebrating Icewine – One Very Cool Festival

Posted on January 14, 2015 by James Ross

The snow and chilly temperatures set a perfect winter scene in beautiful Niagara-on-the Lake, as my wife and I bundle ourselves in parkas, mitts and wool hats. We set off from our Bed and Breakfast towards Queen Street, wandering past snow-draped vineyards, the region’s famous grapes seemingly asleep under a white shroud. We trek into the town’s historic downtown. Our plan is to sample the best offerings from the region’s 28 wineries, to enjoy the wine, food and live entertainment and to learn more about Niagara’s liquid gold.

It just seems a very Canadian thing to do, rather than going into hibernation through the icy months, we have found various ways to celebrate winter. There is hockey, of course, and skiing, curling, dog sledding, and snowshoeing – and, there is icewine. Every January, when the temperatures drop, select Niagara winemakers gather their crews, and venture into the vineyards in the middle of the night to hand-pick the frozen grapes. Then, to celebrate their good fortune, they welcome visitors from all around to sample the region’s unique winter wine, paired with the local cuisine.

Heading into its 20th year, the Annual Niagara Icewine Festival is a uniquely Canadian winter experience, an outdoor street festival with live music, gala dinners, ice sculptures, icewine marshmallows to roast over open fires and lots of icewine tastings to help warm you. We move around sampling the icewine offerings from area wineries, while enjoying delicious savoury and sweet treats from local restaurants.

Often touted as Canada’s greatest liquid luxury, icewine is made in only three countries, and undoubtedly made best here, which is why we have become the world’s leading producer. More than any nation, we have the right climate. Our growing conditions combine warm summers with cold winters, allowing Canadian winemakers to reap the benefits of this special winter harvest. The grapes for Icewine are picked at temperatures of at least -8˚C so that only the highly concentrated juice is pressed from the frozen berries, leaving behind the icy water crystals. The result of these unique climatic conditions is a deliciously sweet wine, with intense flavours and aromas, and an exceptionally high concentration of sugars, acids and extracts from the grapes.

Admission is free for the Niagara-on-the-Lake festival, where the town’s main street has been transformed into an icewine village. Hundreds of people mingle, tasting icewines from the wineries and sampling edible delicacies from signature kitchens. We stop to marvel at the ice sculptures. There is a Flash & Panache Icewine Cocktail Competition where shaken, stirred, mixed and occasionally muddled concoctions are thrown together by local mixologists. The only rule is that they include icewine in their cocktail repertoire. The cocktails are sampled and scored, in a competition to win the Icewine Cup. I volunteer to become an official judge, but my wife’s fingers and toes are beginning to freeze, so we pick up a festival discovery pass and venture inside the wineries to experience wine pairings in a warmer, cosier atmosphere. The pass ($40) includes eight wine pairings, with a mocktail and food pass ($30) available for “designated” drivers. Thank goodness, my wife and I had chosen to walk, helping to avoid a marital spate.

Visitors looking to learn more about icewine can sign up for a tasting class. I was treated to an enlightening pairing class at Reif Estate Winery, where I learned the proper technique for savouring every sip – let the wine linger on your tongue. I try to resist the urge to gulp it down. Weekend packages include the ‘Get Schooled in Cool’ tasting seminars and an icewine inspired dinner.

There is something very romantic about sipping icewine outside in a winter wonderland; with the snow falling, a bonfire crackling, and people bundled up in hats, gloves and winter boots, celebrating one of Niagara’s most unique products. You haven’t really experienced winter’s rare gift until you have enjoyed it outdoors in sub-zero temperatures. It’s just so Canadian.

If you Go …

Where to Stay – From five diamond hotel properties to charming inn and bed and breakfast homes, there are plenty of accommodation properties. Reservations can be arranged through the Chamber of Commerce Accommodation Booking Service. We stayed at the engaging and very comfortable Wine Country Bed and Breakfast. stay@winecountrybb.com

Dining – We escaped the cold for an exquisite meal at The Charles Inn by Chef William Brunyansky. Built in 1832, this white neo-Georgian house with the ambience of a colonial mansion is one of Niagara-on-the-Lake’s oldest buildings, and is recognized by Wine Spectator as one of the best dining experiences in town. www.charlesinn.ca

Visitor Information – Contact www.niagaraicewinefestival.com and www.wineriesofniagaraonthelake.com

Enjoy a Victorian Christmas in Charming Stratford

Posted on December 8, 2014 by James Ross

My wife begins her Christmas shopping in the summer, and starts decorating for the holidays before the calendar flips from November to December. Now, I’m by no means a Grinch, but I usually round into the spirit of the season by Christmas Eve – much to my spouse’s chagrin. This year, perhaps she has found a tonic for my humbug approach, a visit to Stratford, one of Canada’s prettiest small cities.

Downtown Stratford has that nostalgic feel of the traditional Victorian Christmas. Its charming heritage streets are aglow with Christmas lights, cedar boughs, garland, bows and wreaths tied up with ribbons. Lights twinkle off the festive store windows, and the snow dusted walkways. The picturesque village offers holiday shopping, theatre, horse-drawn carriage rides, carollers and some exquisite dining experiences.

FOLLOW THE TRAIL

The Victorian Christmas Trail shops are all dressed up for the season; your trail package includes 6 tickets to be redeemed as you wish at your choice of 13 shops. Among the gift items are giant traditional hand-made peppermint candy canes, locally made brittle, chocolate created using pedal power, tasty holiday preserves, butter toffee and flavoured olive oils.

“It is an opportunity to explore new shops and see many unique gifts in a friendly atmosphere,” says Cathy Rehberg of the Stratford Tourism Alliance. “The magic of our Victorian Christmas includes a wide range of experiences to mark this festive season.”

A WIND IN THE WILLOWS

One of those experiences has become a cultural tradition, “A Wind in The Willows Christmas.” The theatrical production takes place from Dec. 17 to 30 at the Stratford Masonic Concert Hall (15 Church St.). The performance’s premier last year was an instant hit, and the original cast will reprise their roles as Mole, Ratty, Badger and Field Mouse. Special guest star Graham Greene will join the cast as Toad.

DINING

At the heart of the seasonal celebrations is, of course, food, with holiday pairings of tea and chocolate, craft beer dinners and internationally inspired menus created by the Stratford Chefs School’s aspiring chefs. The weekly farmers markets and local food purveyors are bursting with offerings for that holiday feast and tasty gift-giving.

If You Go

Directions: Stratford is about one and a half hours west of Toronto.

Stay: There are enough historic bed and breakfasts and comfortable hotels to meet most any budget. I would recommend both The Ballantyne B & B (www.172ballantyne.ca) steps from the theatre or the historic Mercer Hall Boutique Inn (www.mercerhall.ca) downtown.

Tours: Victoria Christmas Trail tickets are valid for three days from the date of purchase and cost $25 (plus tax), with a value of about $40 in goods. The archive tours, costume warehouse, theatre backstage, food trails and heritage walks are also available throughout the season.

Visit www.visitstratford.ca for more details.

Images Courtesy of Visit Stratford

Christmas in Muskoka

Posted on December 5, 2014 by James Ross

I sometimes wonder how certain traditions come to be. I am, in fact, wondering now, as I hang precariously off the roof of my Muskoka home.

My upper torso is suspended in space beyond the eaves, as I work at untangling a web of wire and lights. The toes of my winter boots are dug into the icy, shingled slope. My fingers, numb from the cold, fumble with the bulbs. Far below me, I see the white ground and am fully aware that the mild weather has left very little snow to break my inevitable fall.

Below, I also see my wife staring upward, and I am touched that she is there to catch me. Then, I realize she is pointing and shouting instructions as if my exercise is a simple matter, akin to the rearranging of the living room furniture. “You have two yellows together,” she seems to be shouting, but her words blow off in the biting wind. My three daughters stand at my wife’s side, echoing her commands and offering their own helpful suggestions.

The ladies are not the only helpers I have had on this day. As I stretched out the strings of lights on the front porch, my young husky pup decided it was he who was to be decorated. Wrapping himself in a cloak of many colours, he scurried about the yard, slightly out of reach, proud of his newly invented game.

Now, I have made it sound like I don’t enjoy this pre‑holiday ritual. The truth is, none of the trials and tribulations of the exercise can take away from the end result — when the lights are up and you stand at the ready with audience gathered. You stick the plug into the socket. Your place lights up and the kids ooh and ah, then bring to your attention the many lights that blink, flash, pop and fade to black. It’s back up to the roof.

Though one could argue that the intrinsic beauty of cottage country can be masked when the sun goes down, as it does quite early through December, the lights of Christmas tend to rectify this. Driving home in the evening, along the back roads and lakeside drives, one marvels at the colourful strings of lights that trace out the rooflines of homes and cottages, frame windows and decks, wrap hedgerows and trees, and illuminate outdoor skating rinks. As a starry night in this region seems all the more brilliant because of the lack of big city lights, so too do the Christmas lights seem all the more acute. The lighting adds beauty and brilliance to cottage country. Twinkling stars and carefully laid out nativity scenes remind of us of Christmas’s greatest story.

Traditions — they are a big part of the magic of the season, and bring back a powerful nostalgia for the family Christmas celebrations of our youth. I know we sometimes get cynical about the commercialism. At times, we get overwhelmed by the shopping. We panic because the whole family is coming and we want things to be perfect.

An escape to cottage country for Christmas is a great way to reconnect with holiday traditions and memories. Life at the cottage encourages fun in the snowy outdoors: sleigh rides and snowmobiles, skiing and tobogganing, and then sitting around a bonfire with a mug of hot chocolate. We clear skating rinks on the ponds and bays, and enjoy an energetic shinny match. A snowman is built and stands guard. The distant sound of church bells and carolling is heard.

Inside, the cottage is warm and cosy, a fire burns in the hearth and stockings are hung from the mantel. There is the scent of pine from a Christmas tree and fresh garland. A drink and some goodies are set out for Santa, and I assure the younger children that he will make it down the chimney just fine, in spite of the flame. There is the anticipation of Christmas morning, followed by the smell of the turkey, and a feast. There are mince pies, homemade fruitcake and Christmas pudding. Best of all, there are family and friends.

Christmas in Muskoka — it’s Christmas card perfect.

Are You Afraid of the Dark?

Posted on October 31, 2014 by James Ross

“City Ghost Walks Perfect for Halloween”

Ghosts are not real. At least, I don’t believe in them. Still, as our bus enters the massive Chinese cemetery in the middle of Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, I peer out of the window into the darkness with a sense of dread. I put on a brave face, as do all my ghost walk companions, but our laughter sounds a little forced.

Our guide tells us of an earlier visit, when the bus arrived during a violent thunder storm. A bolt of lightening lit the scene, and the petrified onlookers swore collectively that they saw hundreds of spirits flitting back to their graves. I’m hardly convinced, but, as I depart the bus and am handed a burning stick of incense to ward off the un-dead, I feel a lingering feeling of unease.

Blades of grass, moved by the wind, scratch quietly across crumbling headstones, while shadows from the full moon dance across tombs, playing tricks with my eyes. The screech of what must be a cat, sounds like an old woman shrieking shrilly at me in Chinese. No, I don’t believe in ghosts, but I’m happy when I am back on the bus, ridiculing the foolishness of it all.

Asian Spooks …

Ghost walks are great for giving a visitor a feel for a distant culture and the history of an ancient city. Such is the case with the Asian Spooks Tour in Malaysia, a very tongue in cheek presentation where, before we depart, we are required to sign a declaration that we have never been predisposed to be possessed by spooks, nor will we allow any of our previous lives or reincarnations to surface. I scrawl my signature with confidence. We visit things as diverse as a colonial railway station, a Hindu temple, the Chinese cemetery, an abandoned Pudu prison, and a dark laneway reputed, according to our trustworthy guide, to be a nest for Asian vampires.

Mayhem in the Scottish Mist …

For ghostly atmosphere, nothing can compete with a ghost walk through the foggy, cobbled streets of Old Edinburgh. Following a black-cloaked, lantern-carrying guide, we visit the sites of horrific tortures, murders, and supernatural happenings, while hearing morbid tales of plagues, witchcraft, and grave robbing. A bizarre cast of eerie apparitions appear from the mist to tell their gruesome tales. We meet the infamous body-snatchers Burke and Hare, Angus Roy, and the blue gowned beggar.

We tour through the winding closes and ancient buildings of the Royal Mile, hearing stories of public executions, spectacles meant to satisfy the blood thirsty Edinburgh mob of the day. Outside the City Chambers, the devastating effects of the 1645 outbreak of the Plague are depicted in graphic detail, including the heart-breaking story of the residents of Mary King’s Close who, after being infected by the Plague, died imprisoned in their homes denied of both food and water. Though we feet bad, we hurried on after learning we were standing directly above the infected alleyway.

Our tour ends in Old Edinburgh’s underground vaults, candle-lit chambers beneath the city’s South Bridge. The vaults were originally used as workshops and houses by businesses on the bridge, but were abandoned as damp and uninhabitable. They became the evil lair of body snatchers and murderers, and psychics have recently found ample evidence of the paranormal. That is enough for me, off I go with the terrified group to the infamous White Hart Tavern for a dram of scotch … or two.

Macabre Montreal …

Following Edinburgh’s lead, drama students in Montreal are hired to research and write scripts, and act the part of historical figures, witches, murderers, and victims. My most recent Halloween had me wandering through Old Montreal’s dark cobblestone alleys and lanes, amongst the stone buildings and wharves of her historic port. We visited a sinister array of costumed characters; blood-spattered, zombie-like, decaying, morbid creatures – purportedly people culled from Montreal’s sinister past.

Capital Crimes …

Haunted Walks focuses on Ottawa’s off-beat history. We are guided by a gaunt, cloaked guide through the downtown, where we learn that this part of our Capital was once a cemetery, until the headstones were removed and the graves ploughed under to take better advantage of the prime real estate. We hear that the Chateau Laurier is haunted by its chief builder, who died on route to the hotel’s official opening aboard the Titanic, and that possibly the wrong man was hung for the 1868 murder of Father of Confederation D’Arcy McGee. We debate the evidence against Patrick James Whelan, and the rumour that he now haunts the Ottawa Jail Hostel, over a pint at D’Arcy McGee’s pub.

Bewitching BC …

Residents of Victoria claim that their’s is the most haunted city in the Pacific Northwest. Visitors can join a Ghostly Walk through the city’s Olde Town, Chinatown, waterfront and Ross Bay Cemetery, or visit the beautiful city during the annual October ‘Ghosts of Victoria Festival.’

Tour companies in most major cities offer Ghost Walks, each keen to stress their authenticity. A broad spectrum of styles are available, ranging from light-hearted presentations for the whole family, to the genuinely fear-inducing encounters best left to those with nerves of steel. Haunted tours are a great way to learn the history of a city and to spend a dark Halloween evening.

Leave it to Beaver

Posted on June 30, 2014 by James Ross

A friend of mine was attacked by a beaver. Now, don’t laugh, it’s true. He told us so himself. We were at the cottage and there were a few of us, outdoor types, sitting around the campfire exchanging bear stories, when he joins in to tell us how he was nearly mauled by this plump rodent. You can imagine our mirth at his little yarn – we all shared a good laugh. He was serious though, and visibly shaken recalling the experience.

This friend is a forestry worker, a consultant. As such, he spends much of his time in the outdoors. He is in the bush through all seasons and in any weather, sunshine, rain and snow. Until the time of the attack, his only worries were the occasional black bear, and the black flies and mosquitoes that torment him each Spring.

He has a dog that accompanies him on his wilderness treks, a Siberian husky that loves the outdoors, the adventure and the exercise. Well, not too long ago as he was busy working in the bush, our friend heard the dog barking nearby. Now huskies are not natural barkers, so he deemed the disturbance worth investigating.

He found the dog facing off with a rather large beaver – the beaver was confidently eyeing the canine. Fearing for the beaver’s well-being, this caring forestry worker called off his well-behaved husky and ordered it to stay at a distance. He was fascinated to see this beaver so far from any water. There was no pond, lake or river in the near vicinity. As he was admiring the pluck of the adventuresome mammal, he was shocked to find himself under attack.

The beaver charged, and our poor friend was quickly back-peddling. The awkward looking attacker darted in with more speed than seemed possible. Our hero dipped and dodged, weaved and wobbled, until he found himself with his back to a tree. The beaver gnashed his large front teeth. It seemed like curtains for our friend, but like a well-written movie, he found a large stick lying by his right hand. Just in the nick of time, he stuck out the broken branch and held the ferocious creature at bay.

The beaver backed off a little and, seizing the opportunity, our brave forester sprinted off. He did not look behind him, did not worry about his dog, did not stop until he had reached the safety of his truck. You can imagine how we laughed when we heard this campfire tale, giggled until our bellies hurt. I feel sorry for laughing now.

I have shared my friend’s scary account with others around the lake, and in turn have been given several similar stories of suspense involving the ferocious flat-tailed tree-eater. One poor fellow required stitches in his backside. A beaver had blocked his way over a bridge. He left the safety of his vehicle to gently shoo the cute critter from his path. The beaver charged and the man turned and ran. The fleet-footed fur-ball caught him, pinning the man between truck and bridge guard rail as he struggled to open his door. The beaver latched on to the startled victim’s posterior, gnawing on it like it was a poplar tree.

An old rancher friend from the west told me of his own experience. When out riding his horse, repairing fence, he caught site of a beaver far from any pond. Before the cowboy could spit a tobacco plug, the creature had lunged at his mount’s front legs. The beaver put the run on the horse in such an expert fashion, that the cowpoke considered training the agile rodent for cutting cattle.

Now we all have our cottage stories of Castor canadensis – of the damage they cause, the trees they thin, the marsh systems they help create, or simply the sound of their wide tail smacking water on a still summer’s night. What has put me in mind of these violent tales is that today, as I am writing this, it is Canada Day, a day when we salute our country and feel pride for our flag. It is true we often complain that, as national symbols, the Americans have their bald eagle, the Russians their fearsome bear, and the Brits their king of the beasts, the lion. We have our amphibious rodent. Though these buck-toothed engineers may be industrious, hard-working and skilled, they have never been credited as ferocious warriors.

“Well, now you know the rest of the story.”

Bermuda Shorts and Pink Sand

Posted on May 2, 2014 by James Ross

Mark Twain once wrote, “You go to heaven if you want, I’ll stay here in Bermuda”.

I’ve had a long standing love affair with the beautiful island. I have been under her spell ever since my parents settled there for eight years in the 1980’s, my clergyman father tending over the charming congregation of a pastel pink Presbyterian Church on the hillside of Hamilton. I would visit, roar about on my scooter, and explore every narrow lane, roundabout, and pink sand beach. I swam in her crystal-clear waters, dove her wrecks and black corral, and visited her rum-laden hangouts, introducing myself to Rum Swizzles and Dark and Stormies.

They say good things come in small packages. Only 21 miles long and two miles wide, Bermuda is a loosely‑ linked chain of islands with lush, rolling hills, beautifully‑tended gardens, and ocean views everywhere you look. It is a welcoming place, from the cheery-polite locals, the caring service and the sophisticated ambiance, to the nightly chorus of the peeping tree frogs, or the resident Fairmont Southampton rooster who walks the gardens and offers up his daily morning wake-up call. The pastel colours of the buildings, with their brilliant, white, sloped, terraced, rain-collecting roof tops, complement the pink sand beaches and the inviting iridescent turquoise waters beyond.

Make sure you experience the Bermuda fish chowder liberally laced with sherry pepper sauce and black rum at the Frog and Onion in Hamilton, Rockfish at the Barracuda, curried conch stew at the Black Horse Tavern at St. George’s and a Rum Swizzle in the original Swizzle Inn at Bailey’s Bay, a carefree family‑owned landmark.

My wife and I spent three nights at the Fairmont Hamilton Princess. You can spend a day here exploring the parks, museums, and British‑style pubs, seafood restaurants and eclectic shops. We hopped on the ferry for a scenic trip to Somerset, site of the Bermuda Maritime Museum and Dockyards, with restaurants, a craft market, galleries, and a wonderful dolphin show inside the 19^th century Dockyard Keep.

For the remaining four nights of our week’s stay, we found the best of Bermuda at The Fairmont Southampton. The palatial pink hotel crowns the 100‑acre resort, surrounded by an executive golf course. An efficient trolley delivers you to a spectacular private beach. Adjacent to the Fairmont’s beach club is stunning South Shore Park and famous Horseshoe Beach, considered one of the top 10 beaches in the world. We walked for two miles along a labyrinth of coral caves and cliffs that jut from the satiny pink sand.

A visit to Bermuda seduces your senses, delights, rejuvenates and inspires, just as it had inspired Mark Twain long before – it is a little piece of paradise.

If You Go: No rental cars are available in Bermuda. The best way to get around is by taxis, which are expensive, or motor bikes, which are fun, if a little dangerous. There are also ferries, horse‑drawn carriages, and an extensive and friendly bus system.

Contact the Bermuda Department of Tourism www.bermudatourism.com.