Wickaninnish Inn

From the window of our eight-seat plane, it looked as though you could reach out and tousle Vancouver Island’s nearby mountaintops. Towering above a patchwork of jewel-coloured lakes, unending expanses of forest and a frothy white fringe of ocean, this drama was just a hint of what Tofino had to offer.

Mr Smith (who, two weeks previously, had made me his Mrs) and I were embarking on the final element of our Canadian honeymoon. So far it had been an increasingly gasp-inducing Rocky Mountain wilderness tour with accommodations unencumbered by modern affectations (read: no electricity or running water). All wonderful, but the lure of a high thread count had never been greater.

As we pulled up to our luxury resort, the first of the Inn’s two buildings, Wickaninnish-on-the-Beach, loomed above us with its stern driftwood grey façade softened by the sea fog curling around its edges. We continued on through the old-growth forest to the Pointe building where we were to be staying. Its huge, richly carved yellow cedar double-doors were pulled open and our bags whisked away.

After a cheerful welcome, we were shown to our a second-floor Deluxe room, where we tried to pay attention to a briefing on how to boost the underfloor heating and make the flatscreen appear – but, with a freshly unveiled vista of the Pacific crashing into view, it was impossible to do anything but gawp. This is what the Wick does best: artfully framing the most spectacular scenery so that – despite the fact that you’re cossetted in luxury – the raw power of the great outdoors is close enough to touch.

Left alone, we began a giddy inspection of our new surroundings (ooh! Fisherman’s sou’westers in the wardrobe! Blankets for the balcony! Tide timetable!). Armed with the room’s binoculars and a local Kettle Valley red (it would’ve been rude not to sample such a well-stocked minibar) we headed straight for our slate-floored patio to scan the now-glossy ocean for whales. As the famed mammals proved elusive, we freshened up – I mentally made an appointment with the pristine white double-bath for a tea-light lit soak later that evening.

But first, cocktails were in order. We made our way down to the On the Rocks Lounge. Under this cedar-beamed big top, hand-textured panels frame a floor-to-ceiling seascape that dominates on almost all sides and a wood-burning stove glows in the centre. The room’s workmanship was by a local wood carver named Henry Nolla who came to the Wick in the Seventies – the legend of his skill (and equally impressive beard) lives on in his workshop on Chesterman beach. Settling in, we ordered palate-piquing thyme-infused gin cocktails and sampled the hotel’s handmade breads, served alongside silky salted butter churned on-site. Now we were officially hungry.

Heading outside to the beachfront crab cookout, we take a seat on one of the driftwood-hewn pews, the informality of the setting inspiring conversation between guests. We soon found we were surrounded by a devoted tribe of Wick followers, many of whom return year on year for their fix. Pots of steaming Dungeness crab were served with dressing-slicked salads, corn and – guiltily – more of that pillowy homemade bread. For those with capacity, there were trays of elegant tartlets and mousses for dessert, but we were too distracted by the enticing glow of a campfire and the sticky pleasure of toasting marshmallows on foraged sticks.

The next morning, reluctantly leaving behind the most comfortable night’s sleep on record – thank you, king-size – we stopped in at the Pointe restaurant for a fortifying coffee and eggs breakfast before taking advantage of the hotel’s fleet of Raleigh beach cruiser bikes to pedal the 20-minutes into Tofino town for a kayak adventure. The early sea fog gave our water-bound adventure an especially mysterious feel, and before long we were paddling Clayoquot Sound with a ferociously knowledgeable guide, to investigate mist-shrouded islands and myriad sea creatures. A blissful couple of hours slid by before we returned to shore to seek out the local speciality Tacofino – a bright-orange van where you’ll wait in line with hordes of wet-suited surfers for the Baja-style fish and seared tuna tacos.

We’d hoped to round off the day with a trip to the Ancient Cedars Spa, perhaps in one of its little treatment shacks that sit on the rocky outcrop, but we weren’t the only ones to be tempted. Disappointingly, it was fully booked for the duration of our stay. Instead, we explored the rainforest-fringed shore. As it turns out, strolling along the sands – crashing waves on one side and snow-capped mountain-tops on the other – is a pretty good tonic for body and soul, too.

The highlight of our trip came that evening, with a tasting menu at the Pointe restaurant, the beating heart of the hotel. Despite having our noses pressed against the glass to take in the spectacle of sunset over the Pacific (you’ll feel shortchanged with anything other than a window seat), the food managed to compete for attention. We tucked into five courses – all starring local ingredients such as seared scallops and striped prawns artfully presented on Japanese porcelain – which were served alongside excellently matched wines.

With a serene moon shining over the water, it was a romance-steeped few hours. Mr Smith and I speculated it would look every bit in a surf-lashed winter storm, and we quietly resolved to come back – after all, you’ve got to save something for a rainy day.