Harbour Air seaplanes land on Victoria's inner harbour, Empress beyond. Photo / Destination Greater Victoria
How to pivot when it rains in Victoria: proceed with all plans and add a raincoat, writes Sarah Pollok.
Victoria may boast the title of Canada’s driest major city, with roughly half the rain of Vancouver and snow days you could count on one woollen mitt, but when the heavens open in winter, this is how locals pivot: grab a sturdy raincoat and scuffed Blundstones and proceed with the day.
After a sleepless yet blissfully direct 13-hour flight from Auckland to Vancouver plus a 40-minute scenic flight to Victoria, I’ve been awake for 30 hours and am dizzy with exhaustion. But I heed the advice an Air New Zealand flight attendant once shared: once at the hotel, freshen up and leave for a walk before you can even begin to fantasise about laying down on the bed. The good news is Victoria is a supremely walkable city, largely concentrated to a 3km hub where one can go from suburban streets to Chinatown or the Bay Centre to Beacon Hill Park within 10 minutes.
As I stride across Johnstone Bridge into downtown, past Victoria Harbour, rain lightly patters the clean sidewalks, stopping none of the locals from walking their dogs or friends along the shoreline. Rather than four seasons in a day, it’s four seasons at once; my nose numb from the bracing sea air, cheeks pink from the sun and hair frizzing from the patchy spray of rain.
Downtown, the streets are a living museum, with mid-19th-century red brick industrial buildings standing alongside wide, worn, cobblestone streets. The glint of gentrification is most obvious on Johnstone St, where heritage warehouses are reimagined as trendy non-alcoholic bottle shops, curated boutiques and artisan coffee roasteries full of students from the three nearby universities.
The city’s compact layout is not only efficient but unusually domestic. Five minutes from the heart of the old town, I find myself in James Bay, the city’s oldest neighbourhood, where entire streets look frozen in the 1950s; shining Chryslers and manicured lawns with fake toadstools and a small public library box with four copies of David Baldacci novels.
One perk of the Delta Ocean Pointe Hotel (aside from having one of the best views of the Parliament building illuminated each night with 3300 fairy lights) is the rental bikes. After a full night’s sleep, I gear up and zoom into the city’s network of cycle, enlivened by the crisp, earthy air that tastes like Aotearoa. After a few minutes, I turn right towards the peninsula and Beacon Hill Park, which the city describes as its “crowning jewel”.
The description is apt, if the regal peacocks are anything to go by — the birds were brought to the 75ha grounds in 1890 as part of a small zoo. The zoo closed but the birds remained, brazenly strutting the mulch paths among the towering red cedar trees.
After a loop or two, a path unravels at Clover Pt, with Victoria behind me and nothing but the Strait of Juan de Fuca ahead. It feels like the edge of the planet if it weren’t for the necklace of white mountaintops faintly resting on the horizon, the sky above an Icelandic palette of whites and hazy blues. Icy air nipping at my ankles moves me along a shared path hugging the seaside around Ogden Pt and back into downtown.
Few spots are better on a chilly day in Victoria than Nourish. The plant-forward cafe is a hug in restaurant form, from the hearty, simple menu packed with local produce to its setting in a two-storey 1888 heritage house. Stepping inside, I peel off my coats and settle at one of the mismatched wooden tables by a tall picture window, fogged by warm bodies and conversation over steaming cups of tea.
When my order arrives, it delivers on the restaurant name, and I leisurely dig into what feels like an edible apology for the last 24 hours of transit and plane food; a wholesome bowl of poached eggs on a bed of brown rice and quinoa with crispy lettuce and spicy kimchi, sauerkraut and nutty, whipped tahini sauce, alongside a vibrant oat matcha. My only critique? I can’t stay for the dinner service.
What would an outdoorsy adventure be without a hike? For sweeping views, multiple paths and a rewarding summit, I drive 15 minutes to Mt Douglas/Pkols, watching the city morph to countryside as I cross into one of Victoria’s 13 municipalities, Saanich.
The timing isn’t ideal for views; a persistent white fog mushrooms across the sky, bringing a splatter of rain and blotting out the horizon, but I follow the lead of a dog walker, who pulls a raincoat tight around them and heads into the trees. Almost one hour later, the slick rocky path carries me above the branches and the weather.
I turn to take in the unusual sight — ripples of rain shuddering across the farmland below — before completing the 183m climb marked by a white concrete platform bearing a toposcope of nearby peaks.
A fellow walker with a DSLR camera seems rather put out but I can’t help beaming, my body flooded with endorphins, my mind happy to be practising a little Scandinavian friluftsliv; soaking up the joy of the outdoors, regardless of conditions. As they say, there’s no such thing as bad weather, just bad clothing.
I wasn’t expecting much from Vancouver Island’s restaurant scene, but this city punches above its weight. Just one example is Finest At Sea, a family-owned boutique seafood market serving 100% wild and sustainably caught fish since 1977. Now, you may think (as I did) that sustainable fishing is a rather dull topic, but after talking to Jennifer Gidora, head of operations, for just five minutes, I am enchanted by her passion for all things fish.
“Fresh isn’t always the freshest,” Jennifer explains as we stand outside the two-storey waterfront Victorian house stubbornly sat between high-rise condos and flash hotels. The cedar shingle home was originally FAS founder Bob Fraumeni’s, but as the company grew (from one boat he operated in 1977), the property did too, and now includes a small processing facility, food truck and deli selling treats like salmon pot pie, kelp and cabbage kimchi and halibut cake alongside fillets of fresh fish. Peering into the cabinet, each fish has a label stating the exact boat it was caught on.
The moment a fish is pulled from the water, it’s quality begins to degrade, yet boats can take weeks to return to shore. The solution, Jennifer explains, is an on-board freezer. “They’re headed, gutted and frozen immediately,” she said; a pricier process but one that ensures top quality.
For years, the company exported everything to Japan, where people happily paid for premium fish, but have since started selling locally as the desire for sustainably sourced food has grown. “We hand-tweeze spines out of salmon and process everything ourselves, even though it would be cheaper to export it for processing and then ship it back here to sell,” Jennifer says. Peeking inside one of the small production rooms, I see two men (brothers, whose father has worked here for decades), jotting down orders with pen and paper.
It’s all very well for a product to be high-grade and sustainable, but does it taste good? If the licked-clean paper plates that had held my order of crispy battered halibut and lingcod, fat and salty fries and sockeye tacos smothered in chipotle mayo are any evidence, Finest At Sea is also finest on the plate.
Need something a little fancier? Book a table at Ugly Duckling, an elevated and intimate Asian fusion restaurant owned and run by Chef Corbin Mathany, who cares about presentation as much as the providence of each ingredient.
With my next destination being the powdery ski fields of Nelson and Rossland, I know the body needed a little TLC. So, after a quiet dinner at Wind Cries Mary that night, I beeline for HAVN Spa, in Fisherman’s Wharf Marina.
You rarely find an authentic taste of European culture so far from the continent. Yet, the moment I reached the roof of the two-storey barge to see a dozen people relaxing in hot pools and cold plunges, I recalled a recent trip to Lucerne, Switzerland, where people similarly lazed and socialised on riverside pontoons. Sleek black on the outside, it’s a cedar-scented dream within, with clean wood interiors, quiet acoustic music and soft lighting.
Unsurprisingly, it’s popular with couples, but not just romantic pairs, with many women here to catch up and find calm. Happily alone, I follow the signs and move through sweltering heat and sharp cold; spa pool then cold plunge, eucalyptus sauna then cold shower. I get chatting with a Canadian and Australian in the cedar sauna, delighting in the easy socialising as well as the moments of mutual quiet. Suddenly, it’s 9.30pm, time to shower, bundle up and sleepily amble 15 minutes back to the hotel, the fairy lights of Parliament illuminating the way.
VICTORIA, BRITISH COLUMBIA, CANADA
GETTING THERE
Fly from Auckland to Vancouver direct with Air Canada or Air New Zealand, and on to Victoria with Air Canada.
DETAILS
Delta Ocean Pointe Resort | marriott.com
Nourish Kitchen & Cafe | nourishkitchen.ca
Finest At Sea | finestatseafish.com
HAVN Spa | havnspa.ca
New Zealand Herald Travel flew courtesy of Destination BC and travelled courtesy of Destination Greater Victoria.