
As an Ontarian, I thought I knew winter. Snowbanks. Salt-streaked cars. That grey sky that seems to hover at 4 p.m. for months on end. But when I finally visited Vancouver in winter, I realised I’d been doing the season all wrong. Here, winter looks and feels completely different: greener, softer, and somehow alive.
The first thing that hit me, even before I left the airport, was the mountains. They’re everywhere. From downtown, you can see the North Shore Mountains rising straight from the water, snow-dusted and cinematic. One afternoon, I took the Skyride up Grouse Mountain, and it was like being dropped into another world. Kids were sledding, couples were skating, and the city skyline shimmered far below. You can’t get that in Toronto—or anywhere east of the Rockies, for that matter.
There’s something surreal about standing on an ocean seawall in January and watching the sunset over the Pacific. I walked from Coal Harbour all the way to Stanley Park, and the light that day was unreal—muted golds and silvers bouncing off the water. Even the air felt different: clean, mild, almost sweet compared to the dry chill back home.
If you keep walking through Stanley Park, you’ll eventually reach Prospect Point, where you can watch ships pass under Lions Gate Bridge as eagles circle overhead. It’s one of those quiet, cinematic moments that sneak up on you.
I grew up thinking winter meant bare branches and white fields. Vancouver proved me wrong. The forests here stay green year-round. I visited Capilano Suspension Bridge Park one morning after a light rain, and everything glistened—the moss, the ferns, even the bridge cables. The canyon below was misty, and the whole scene felt more like a movie set than a city attraction.
Even if you’re not brave enough to cross the bridge, the park’s viewing platforms are worth it. You can stand at the edge of the rainforest and hear the river rushing below. It’s peaceful in a way that makes you forget how close you are to downtown.
What makes Vancouver’s winter views so unique is that you can see snow without having to live in it. Locals ski and snowboard at Cypress, Seymour, and Grouse—three mountains less than 30 minutes from downtown—but you can also admire them from a warm café in the city. One of my favourite moments was sipping a latte near English Bay, looking up at the white peaks that had appeared overnight.
When I told friends I was going to Vancouver in winter, they asked if anything would even be open. Turns out, the waterfront stays lively year-round. At Granville Island, I watched sea lions bobbing near the docks and caught glimpses of seaplanes taking off over the harbour. Later, I hopped on a ferry to North Vancouver just to get the skyline view—skyscrapers backed by forested slopes, glowing at dusk.
It’s easy to forget that Vancouver’s still Canada. You still get that crisp winter air, the friendly faces, the sense of safety and space—but with a landscape that feels like another planet compared to Ontario’s frozen plains. It’s no wonder so many Ontarians head west for a reset instead of south.
If you’re looking for winter that inspires instead of exhausts, Vancouver delivers. You’ll trade snowbanks for mountain views, slush for sea spray, and grey skies for a soft Pacific glow. I came home with more photos than I’d like to admit—and every one of them looked like a postcard.