Paddling the quiet side of Vancouver Island

We arrived on the afternoon train, which is the slow one, and walked from the station with our bags rather than waiting for the bus. It is about twenty minutes downhill through streets that narrow as they go, and by the time the harbour opened up in front of us we had already passed two bakeries and a hardware shop that also sells fishing line. The room was ready. The window looked onto a courtyard with a fig tree in it.

The first evening we did very little. There is a bench at the end of the quay where the fishing boats tie up, and we sat there until the light went. A man in a blue jacket was repairing a net with a wooden needle, and nobody seemed to be in any hurry about anything. Dinner was a plate of grilled sardines and a bowl of white beans with olive oil, eaten outside at a table that wobbled until the waiter folded a menu under one leg.

The walk to the calanques

The path starts at the far end of the harbour and climbs almost immediately. For the first half hour it is a wide track through pine, and then it narrows and the ground turns to pale rock that has been worn smooth in places by many years of boots. We carried two litres of water each and a bag of apricots from the market, which turned out to be about right for a morning.

The second inlet is the one most people aim for, and it is worth aiming for. The water is the colour it looks in photographs, which is not always the case. We swam from the rocks on the left-hand side, where there is a ledge at about knee depth that makes getting out easier than it looks. A few small boats came in around eleven and left again by one.

This is a place for people who are happy to spend a whole day doing one thing. If you want to see three towns before dinner, it will frustrate you. If you want to swim, read, and swim again, it is close to ideal.

Where we stayed

The guesthouse has six rooms and is run by a couple who have been there for eleven years. Breakfast is bread, jam made from the fruit in the courtyard, yoghurt, and coffee that arrives in a pot rather than a cup. There is no reception desk as such; you find someone in the kitchen. Towels for the beach are kept in a basket by the door, and you are trusted to bring them back.

Things we would do again

• Take the early train and walk down from the station rather than taxi.
• Buy fruit at the Wednesday market before nine, when the stalls are full.
• Walk to the second inlet, not the first, and go before ten.
• Eat at the place with the wobbling tables at least twice.

Getting around without a car

We did not hire a car and did not miss one. The town is small enough to cross on foot in ten minutes, and the bus to the next town along the coast runs every hour from the stop by the post office. It costs a couple of euros and takes twenty-five minutes along a road that is mostly views. On the way back we sat on the right-hand side, which is the side to sit on.

On the last morning we bought a jar of the courtyard jam to take home, which the owner wrapped in newspaper and tied with string. We walked back up to the station the long way, past the hardware shop, and caught the slow train again. It was the right train. There was no reason to take the other one.