Rooted in practices that long predate the country itself, the Indigenous culinary scene in Canada is garnering attention from foodies around the world. Beyond the obvious appeal of authentic fare sourced from traditional ingredients, Indigenous cuisine is intentional in the way it homes in on the land-to-table process, paying homage to the storied lineage of every dish featured.

This sentiment is foundational for Art Napoleon, a former Saulteau First Nation Chief and self-proclaimed “bush cook” who upholds a reverence for land stewardship and ethical cooking. Napoleon’s devotion to his craft takes him beyond the confines of the kitchen — he ventures into the elements to personally procure ingredients through age-old hunting and foraging customs.

Napoleon’s adherence to time-honoured Indigenous traditions contrasts with the French culinary practices of his co-host Dan Hayes, a classically trained chef who moved from London, England, to Victoria in 2006.

Witnessing the northern lights has remained a planet-sized hole in my Bucket List for many years. After visiting over 100 countries on all seven continents, I’d yet to see the aurora borealis, although not for lack of trying. I’d spent hopeful yet disappointing weeks looking up at the cold night skies in Alaska, Yukon, northern Saskatchewan and Iceland, all of which left me with the following conclusion: when one lives in cold, sparsely populated northern climate surrounded by unimaginable amounts of space, your mind begins to untangle. With your brain unspooling, the frontal lobe fires neurons to the back of your eyeballs, resulting in beautiful hallucinations that can best be described as “lights dancing across the sky.”   

Should you arrive from the south in hopes of experiencing such a phenomenon, here’s what you’ll hear: “You should have been here last week; they were incredible!” or “You should be here next week, they’ll be incredible!“

It’s a crisp minus 22. The crystals that yesterday drew a halo around the sun now form a magic carpet on the snow, casting light in all directions. I’m with a group of skiers traversing North America’s largest alpine meadow, a swath suspended like a billowing hammock from a rampart of skyward peaks. The path ahead isn’t really a path; it’s more like a sightline — a promise on the horizon that slowly pulls us upward. Gliding through this landscape on alpine skis with climbing skins, we cross trails made by pine martens, their paw prints revealing sprints from tree to tree. This is the beauty of backcountry ski touring, the feeling of being an extra in a silent film about paradise where the loudest sound may be the squeak of your boots. That is, until you cross tracks, literally, with a group of giddy snowshoers belly-laughing as they race one another down slopes with waist-deep powder.

Yes, snowshoers, because at Purcell Mountain Lodge, everyone — including non-skiers — is welcome in winter. In the Purcell Mountains, an offshoot of the Columbia range, the lodge sits about halfway between Revelstoke and Banff, as the crow flies. To get here, you go as the helicopter flies, 15 minutes from the town of Golden, B.C. A 10-room timber structure (there’s also a library, a boot-drying room, a large dining room and a cosy corner with a fireplace and a killer view), the lodge barely makes a dent in the topography. Inserted into a gentle slope that hovers at an altitude of 2,200 metres, this home away from home is surrounded by peaks, including Mount Sir Donald, the 3,300-metre-tall pyramid that dominates the backdrop.

Explore the dramatic coastlines of Nunavut and Atlantic Canada. Search for wildlife, cruise amongst icebergs, visit natural and historic sites, and discover vibrant welcoming communities. 

Travel together with Canadian Geographic ambassadors and local guides learning along the way about the places you visit. Presentations, hands-on workshops, guided hikes, and hosted dinner tables are just some of the ways you’ll deepen your knowledge and appreciation of Canada’s diverse cultures and stunning natural environments.