STUNNING LANDSCAPES, GENUINE PEOPLE AND A LOT OF TEAR-PROVIDING MEMORIES
Empower Your Living
November 28, 2025 · 12 min read
November 28, 2025 · 12 min read
While waiting for my delayed flight — three hours late, discovered the moment I arrive at Toronto Airport at 7:30 a.m. — I decide to use the unexpected downtime to start my Canada Travel Update. This whole journey keeps teaching me to flow with whatever life throws at me. I’d love to pretend I’m always relaxed and Zen about sudden changes… but nope. I’m human. Sometimes delays and detours still get under my skin. Yet more and more, I’m learning to lean in and embrace what I cannot change.
Looking back at the past five weeks in my birth country fills me with joy and deep gratitude. Even though I grew up in Switzerland, Canada shaped a huge part of who I am. My parents took me on countless trips across this vast land — endless skies, raw landscapes, genuine people, and untouched nature. Even for a Swiss, it’s a lot to take in.
This stop in Canada wasn’t even planned. But when I shortened my time in the USA, heading “home” to Canada felt obvious. And exactly right.
Winnipeg: Feels Like Coming Home
A cheerful “Welcome to Canada!” from the customs officer instantly welcomes me home. Within 30 minutes of landing from Chicago, I’m outside the airport — the beauty of smaller airports! Even Jenna, my soul sister and Winnipeg local, is stunned. Her smiling face, tight hug, and unmistakable laugh make my heart jump. The gift bag from Black Market Provisions? The cherry on top.
Even though Winnipeg greets me with sunshine, it’s time for long pants and a winter coat — which I wholeheartedly prefer over rain and lukewarm weather.
Jenna found me a lovely Airbnb in the Exchange District, just five minutes from her place. Old brick buildings, my own space, and the perfect quiet to work, research my upcoming destinations, and make the first moves on a huge project coming in 2026. More on that later 🤩.
I walk along the Red River, wander to The Forks Market for hot chocolate, cinnamon buns, scones, and quiet reading corners.
And because I love Inuit art, I revisit the Winnipeg Art Gallery — I was last here on a gross country road trip from Toronto to Vancouver with my mom in the late 80ties — and Qaumajuq. The Abraham Anghik Ruben exhibit is breathtaking — intricate sculptures that reach straight into the Inuit soul. I spend nearly two hours there and wish I could take one piece home.
Then it’s spa time with Jenna at Thermea Spa: saunas, Aufguss, icy plunges, long talks, deep laughs, and food that makes you forget every worry. Perfection.
Winnipeg’s restaurant scene is amazing. Jenna sends me so many recommendations it makes my head spin. I treat myself to Peasant Cookery one evening, and on my last night I invite Jenna and her husband to Tabula Rasa — a delicious thank-you for a beautiful stay.
Quebec: Indian Summer Road Trip & European Charm
Despite visiting Canada all my life, I’ve never been to Quebec City. So before exploring it, I rent a car and hit the road along the St. Lawrence River and into the Saguenay Fjord region.
It’s late fall, but I still catch the tail end of Indian Summer — a final burst of golden colors 🍁. Birch trees have already shed their leaves, their white bark hinting at winter’s approach.
Road tripping is freedom in its purest form. As I drive along the great waterway, memories return in waves. Tears come with them — thoughts of my late parents and all our shared adventures in this land they deeply loved.
My itinerary:
- Auberge Baker just outside Quebec City
- Grey skies guiding me toward Tadoussac and the cozy Auberge Maison Gagné
- A glowing sunset on the ferry crossing the Saguenay River
The next morning, I head east along the Saguenay Fjord. With winter closing in, most scenic roads are already shut, but my inner explorer still finds hidden spots worth stopping for. The landscape feels wild and quietly majestic — the kind that pulls you deeper into its rhythm, even when the cold bites.
One hour east of Saguenay lies Val Jalbert, a historic mill town I’ve wanted to visit since watching “La Chasse aux Trésors” on Swiss TV in the 1980s. My parents and I always dreamed of coming here. Forty-four years later, I finally stand in the place I once watched on TV — replaying the old footage over and over to find the exact house where the treasure was hidden. It’s emotional. I look up and feel my parents with me.
Last stop: Quebec City. My hotel sits right next to the iconic Château Frontenac — thankfully without the Château price tag.
Strolling through the streets, I come across the Palais Montcalm concert hall and spontaneously buy a ticket: “Julien Dassin chante Joe Dassin“. My dad loved French music, so the concert hits home. The audience sings their hearts out, and whenever I know the lyrics, I join with full enthusiasm. I’m certain my dad is singing along somewhere.
Whenever I visit a city I usually do one art museum stop. My internet research reveals that the Musée des Beaux-Arts is currently hosting a special exhibition on Niki de Saint-Phalle. My dad loved her work, especially the Nanas (I still have one at home). I am fascinated by the colorfulness and seriousness of Niki de Saint-Phalle’s art.
My final day is spent at Strom Spa, floating in the infinity pool above the St. Lawrence River, soaking in saunas, and watching the city wind down. I silently promise myself to come back in winter.
Montreal: Memory Lane & Cottage Magic
From Quebec City, I take the train to Montreal — Canada’s second-largest city and the second-largest French-speaking city in the world, after Paris. Fun fact I didn’t know.
Christine, a former colleague from my Swatch Group days in Toronto back in the mid-nineties, pickes me up at the train station. We hadn’t seen each other in more than 27 years. We met during those wild, exciting weeks during the ATP’s Tennis World Tour stop in Montreal — Christine working for Tennis Canada, and me representing Rado, the official timekeeper. Such genuinely joyful memories.
A public transit strike hits the moment I arrive, so getting into the city becomes… laborious. I eventually manage, choosing a sunny fall day to wander through the streets and hike up Mount Royal. Somehow, by following visual memory alone, I even find the building where I stayed with Swiss friends during a 1983 visit. Wild.
On the weekend, Christine and I escape to her sister’s cottage. It’s pure Canadian magic — the lake, the silence, the fireplace. I read, nap, breathe. The next morning, a light layer of snow turns everything into a fairytale. It’s the perfect ending.
Ottawa: The Capital
Ottawa welcomes me with white streets and freezing wind — and I love it. My hotel booking, however, is a disaster: a sign on the door announces that third-party bookings are no longer honored 🤯. I shrug, pull out my phone, and book another place. Embracing what I can’t change.
The political changes happening in Canada show up physically too — Parliament Hill is under renovation. For now, the iconic view is mostly hidden behind scaffolding, the kind you currently find only on postcards
I stumble into the Remembrance Day Parade on November 11. Watching Canadians honor those who served hits me harder than expected, especially in a world shaken by conflict again. Tears flood my eyes.
The next day I explore the Firestone Collection of Canadian Art at the Ottawa Art Gallery and join a free Parliament Tour to the House of Commons, thanks to a lovely couple I met the day before. Canadians and their friendliness… unmatched.
Another mental note: I’m coming back to Ottawa — to skate the Rideau Canal in winter.
Toronto: Returning to My Roots
My last stop: Toronto, where I was born, learned English at 15, and worked for two and a half years in the 90s.
My arrival starts with a shock — I wrote down the wrong train time and miss my departure. FIFTEEN minutes before the train leaves, I realize the mistake. No chance to fix it. Proof that even seasoned travelers can mess up dates and times 🥹.
But the universe always has its ways. I catch another train and meet a fellow traveler who lived in Switzerland — in a village 15 minutes from mine. What are the odds? She even joins me the next evening for The Winter’s Tale at the National Ballet of Canada. Beautiful serendipity.
My first few days I rent an Airbnb downtown — with a direct view of the apartment building I once lived in. No endless sightseeing, just flow. I return to Queen Mother Café — a Torontonian institution since 1978! — for my ritual Khao Soy Gai (a dish that is both main course and dessert), head to my old office, stroll through Graffiti Alley, explore the Distillery District, enjoy Moxies’ legendary Whipped Feta, and go to a Toronto Symphony Orchestra concert.
Then I stay with friends, Christl and Ronnie — 26 and 27 years since we last met. There’s something deeply comforting about settling into an actual home for a couple of days. I use the quiet time to plan my South America trip — travel planning always melts my brain a little, so I take it in small doses.
More reunions follow:
- Indian dinner at Leela with Angela
- Italian at Nodo with Lorraine
We fall into conversation as if the 90s were yesterday.
Coming Home to Myself
Canada always fills my soul. The friends, the familiar places, the new adventures — it all reminds me how lucky I am to be Canadian, even though Switzerland has been home for most of my life.
My parents stayed close throughout these five weeks. Some people find it strange that, 14 and 15 years after their passing, I still feel their presence so strongly and talk about them often. I don’t care. Our bond was extraordinary, and I’ll cherish it forever.
LET’S STAY CONNECTED
Email: barbara@empoweryourliving.com
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