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Cool or creepy? A Titanic-themed cruise, created to commemorate the 100th anniversary of the the ill-fated vessel, will retrace its trans-Atlantic journey in April of 2012 (without an iceberg collision, we hope). The cruise, created by Miles Morgan Travel, will follow the original ship's itinerary, departing from Southampton, England, and stopping in Cherbourg, France and Cobh, Ireland, before arriving at the site where the Titanic struck an iceberg on April 15, 1912. There, 100 years after the ship sank, passengers will hold a memorial service for the 1,500 who lost their lives that day. The 12-day cruise will also include a stop in Halifax, Nova Scotia, so that the passengers may visit several of the cemeteries where the Titantic's victims were buried, before finally arriving in New York, the original ship's destination.

Those traveling on the commemorative vessel Bamoral will find it outfitted with many of the same touches used in James Cameron's epic film. "The whole voyage will be steeped in Titanic history," Miles Morgan, the trip's organizer, told the Telegraph earlier this year. "The food served will match the sumptuous menus on the original voyage; the entertainment will include music and dancing in the style featured in those glorious times and there will be a chance to hear firsthand from historians who have studied the Titanic story." Right now, nine cabins have already been sold, for about $3,900 each. 

What's your take? Would you climb aboard the Bamoral to relive and remember Titanic's maiden voyage? 

[Titanic Memorial Cruise]
[Gadling]
[CNN]
[National Geographic Channel: Return to Titanic]

Image: via the Telegraph

Andrew Evans confronts his acrophobia on Canada's newest vertical challenge: the Via Ferrata.

I didn't die--that's the short version. The End. Now you can click back to whatever you were reading before.

Not that I wouldn't mind dying in the Canadian Rockies. It's a pretty spectacular place inhabited by friendly locals and mild-mannered grizzly bears. The extreme drop-offs are tremendously beautiful, I concur. I also find them hugely terrifying.  

As a self-diagnosed acrophobic, I try to avoid rock ledges, steep mountain chasms and thousand-foot-high cliffs.  Smart people have often explained that I am not really afraid of heights--I'm only afraid of falling. Reading up on vertigo, I have learned that mine is not an irrational fear. I merely have "vestibular issues" that affect my balance and which are most likely evolutionary. Apparently, my ancient ancestors also suffered from falling dreams.

In Canada, I got to face my fears head on. Travel helps us do that by dropping us into unusual or difficult circumstances and then forcing us to do things we don't normally choose to do. For me, that meant getting dropped off by helicopter onto a mountain ridge some 7,000 feet above sea level.  

Canadian Mountain Holidays (CMH) are better known for inventing heli-skiing, where hardcore skiers can access some of the greatest and highest virgin powder on Earth by helicopter. The same idea works for eager hikers in summertime: the 3-minute helicopter ride lets you skip the ten-hour base climb and get right to the good stuff. Or in my case, the super scary stuff.

Senior Researcher Marilyn Terrell is just back from a trip through the Yukon Territory, and she's thrilling all of us with stories from her trip. You can read her previous entries about her Yukon adventure here and here.

The ultimate destination on my Yukon River trip two weeks ago was Dawson City, just as it had been for the Klondike gold prospectors streaming down the river 112 years ago. To learn more about the Gold Rush, I picked up a wonderfully informative history by Pierre Berton, "Klondike: The Last Great Gold Rush", from Mac's Fireweed Books in Whitehorse to read during the trip.

For the prospectors, the journey started with an arduous slog over the Coast Mountains along the Chilkoot Trail from the port at Skagway, Alaska. Each prospector had to make numerous trips in order to haul 1,000 pounds of equipment and supplies down to Lake Bennett, where the Yukon River begins. The North West Mounted Police were patrolling the Yukon when the Klondike gold rush began 1897, and would not permit any ill-equipped miner lacking the requisite 1,000-lb. "outfit" to start the journey, because there were no grocery stores along the Yukon River or even in Dawson City itself. You had to bring enough canned food with you to survive on for a year, until the next riverboat might bring supplies.

Some hasty prospectors raced to Dawson City in the fall of 1896, traveling light without supplies before the main rush began, and they were congratulating themselves on getting a jump on the competition when a messenger appeared in a canoe from downriver in Whitehorse. Instead of the news they were expecting, that a steamboat was on its way with food for the winter, the early birds got the grim word: no more riverboats would be forthcoming that year, and unless they wanted to starve they'd have to leave immediately, as the river was already beginning to freeze up.

Before I left for my Yukon trip, I'd been following Ed Wardle's considerably more dangerous Yukon adventure "Alone In The Wild" on Twitter.  Ed received training in wilderness survival, medical emergencies, and firearms handling, then he was dropped into the Yukon wilderness with a load of supplies to carry on his back and expected to survive on his own for three months. He had a video camera that he used to film his daily dispatches from the wild, and these dispatches were collected and edited to make a reality TV show on the National Geographic Channel. He ended up lasting 50 days instead of the expected 90, and had to be emergency airlifted out of there. You can watch some of his videos here, and you can see him get progressively thinner as the weeks go by and he had to collect, catch or shoot his own food to survive. 

I didn't realized until I returned that my trip covered some of the same general area as Wardle's, but my experience could hardly have been more different. Instead of shivering in a tent, I lived in a series of rather luxurious heated cabins. Instead of carrying all my gear on my back, I simply zipped my suitcase and it was magically transported by boat, car or floatplane to my next destination. And instead of having to shoot my own food, I got to enjoy delicious cuisine expertly prepared and served in a rustic (but warm) dining room. But even in my comfortable surroundings, I was reminded of how dangerous the Yukon really is. We learned a hunter had died of hypothermia the day before we arrived at one of our cabins, and our guides had to carry guns to be ready for charging bears. Wardle may not have survived the full 90 days, but frankly, I'm impressed he made it as long as he did.

You can watch the latest episode of "Alone In The Wild" tonight at 9pm on the National Geographic Channel. Ed talks about his experience here.

Senior Researcher Marilyn Terrell is just back from a trip through the Yukon Territory, and she's thrilling all of us with stories from her trip. You can read her previous entry about her Yukon adventure here.

The first few times someone on my trip spotted a bald eagle, we all grabbed binoculars and cameras. But after three days of seeing very little birdlife besides bald eagles, trip member Roy dubbed them the "pigeons of the Yukon."

We've seen other species along this Great River Journey from Whitehorse to Dawson. At Lake Lebarge we heard loons on the water and spied fat grouse scratching in the underbrush. Around a bend on the Thirty Mile River we surprised a pair of trumpeter swans who took off, silently, flapping enormous white wings. At Pelly River Ranch, farmer Hugh Bradley pointed out some Yukon turkeys (sandhill cranes) in one of his fields and predicted we'd soon be seeing more. Sure enough, a squadron flew over our cabins next morning, gobbling noisily, heading south.

Victoria, B.C. might be known for its gardens and English charm, but it also has a bursting foodie scene, especially when it comes to seafood. Two of my top picks are Chandlers Seafood and the Wharfside Eatery, both located just a few steps away from the inner harbor.

Wharfside Eatery's inner harbor location admittedly makes it a bit touristy, but the food is nothing but local. Try favorites like the Oysters Rockefeller (oysters sauteed with Italian bacon, garlic, and spinach), Alaskan Jumbo Scallops (wrapped in bacon with a smoky tomato cream sauce), or classics like king crab legs or citrus cilantro rubbed ahi tuna. My top picks are the calamari, hand-dipped in cracked wheat and served in an edible rice bowl, and the the smoked salmon and mango chutney wrap, served with crispy sweet potato fries (above). On a warm Victoria evening, eat outside on the dock and watch the sun set on the harbor. 1208 Wharf Street.

Chandlers Seafood is located a few blocks away from the inner harbor, making it less enticing to cruise ship tourists and more appealing to locals (who dubbed its seafood the best in Victoria). There's no outside seating at Chandlers, but the dark wood paneling and maritime decor make it feel as if you're dining with a sea captain. The seafood is fresh (as one would expect from a port town) and the chef focuses on local fare, like red Coho salmon, halibut, and Alberta steaks. If you're there for a small meal, try the seafood chowder (made with wild Spring salmon, halibut, and shellfish) or the shrimp-stuffed mushrooms--two delicious appetizers. Chandlers also serves larger "feasts for two," like the "Menu Tour" (shrimp-stuffed mushrooms, New Brunswick lobster tails, garlic prawns, wild halibut fillet, and wild Spring salmon fillet) or "King Crab Feast" (shrimp-stuffed mushrooms plus one pound of garlic king crab shanks with two fillets of wild Spring salmon), all served with Caesar salad, basmati organic rice, baked potato, and warm bread with the chef's signature olive tapenade. 1250 Wharf Street.

No matter where you eat for lunch or dinner, make sure to save room for dessert at Rogers' Chocolates. This Victoria staple (the original store has been open since 1891 and serves fine gourmet chocolates) opened an old-fashioned soda shoppe right across from the Fairmont Empress. The shoppe has marble counters, retro bar stools, a restored soda fountain, and serves ice cream (try unique flavors like raspberry, raisin rum, or ginger snap) made fresh from the Rogers' Chocolates factory in Victoria. 801 Government Street.

Senior Researcher Marilyn Terrell is in the Yukon Territory for this week, and she's blogging, and of course, tweeting, whenever she can. She sent along this dispatch:

I spent ten hours yesterday walking the streets and trails of Whitehorse, (pop. 24,000) the capital of the Yukon Territory (pop. 40,000 people, plus 30,000 bears). Ate breakfast at Baked aka Bakerei Kaffeehaus (+1 867 633 6291) where the blueberry scones are wholegrain, the latte foam artfully swirled, and toddlers saute plastic vegetables in tiny pans in the wooden play kitchen.

Down by the Yukon River waterfront at Rotary Peace Park, '60s classics blared and crowds cheered the anchor-leg runners of the 110-mile Klondike International Road Relay as they approached the finish line. The race began at midnight in Skagway, Alaska, and runners carried flashlights over the Coast Mountains through White Pass along the Chilkoot Trail, which originally brought the goldminers in the stampede of 1898. The race officials announced the names of the runners and their teams: the Skinny Ravens from Anchorage, Sole Train from Juneau, CrowsFeet, an all-female masters team from Anchorage, the Chocolate Claim Runners from Whitehorse, the Smokin' Old Geezers, Team Run Amok, Blood Sweat & Beers, Twisted Blistered Sisters, the Molten Lava Tigers of Doom, The Fast and the Delirious. There were 1,200 runners, 700 women, and many junior teams.

The National Geographic Channel's executive vice president for content, Sydney Suissa, has been paddling Canada's Quetico Park over the past three decades. Here's a report from his latest trip; click through for his photo essay.

A four-hour flight delay, a lost bag and a sky of flat gray soup; not an auspicious start to our canoe trip. But wilderness trips are all about improvising and we'll have to make do. There are four of us on this trip -- my longtime friend and fellow canoeist Steven from Montreal, his 24-year-old son Ben, my 20-year-old son Aaron and myself. As we load up our rental car, we know it's going to be one of those trips where we'll use a lot more bug juice than sunscreen.

The wilderness area we're going to is an immense swath of the Canadian Shield carpeted with century pines, spruces, and stands of birch. Dark lakes pure enough to drink from, bogs tucked behind long sheltered bays where moose feed, orchid-lined creeks and small rivers that ebb and flow with the seasons all weave together into ever-changing networks that make this wilderness a haven for canoeists. In Minnesota, this protected area is called the Boundary Waters, and where it extends into Ontario, Canadians know it as Quetico Park.

We drive west from Thunder Bay, cross the Atlantic Watershed demarcation into the Arctic Watershed, and in about two hours arrive in Atikokan, population 700 and falling. It's the kind of town that Neil Young had in mind in his song "Helpless" ("There is a town in North Ontario/All my memories are there...") We go through our equipment and maps with our outfitter and spend the night in the bunkhouse. We rise early and after our ritual breakfast at the Outdoorsman, we load up our canoes and head out to the access point on Beaverhouse Lake. We push off into a stiff westerly wind wet with rain.

Tobias Nowlan had some close encounters of the natural kind during his recent visit to Vancouver Island in British Columbia.

Just as it looked like the plane would perch on a Rocky Mountain peak, it dove into the coastal metropolis of Vancouver. I had arrived in British Columbia to visit Vancouver Island, lured by whales and wolves.

Beginning in popular fishing town of Tofino, I set out with whale-watching company Remote Passages. In sheltered coves, I watched grey whales raking the sand and kelp with their baleen plates. Tofino is a pit-stop along the largest migration of these impressive creatures; this coastline provides vital nourishment en route.

Sea otters, having tied themselves in knots of kelp, floated past islands of bare rock which hummed with breeding Brandt's cormorants, auklets, tufted puffins and a posse of visiting pelicans. Once on the edge of total extinction thanks to an unending desire for their pelts, sea otters are now widespread along the BC coast. I saw ten on this trip. The boat also approached a thrush-sized seabird bobbing on the surface: the marbled murrelet. In summer plumage these micro-mariners are a mottled dark chocolate brown. Researchers were astonished to discover as late as the sixties that the murrelets breed in the canopy of old growth coastal rain forest. Widespread clear-cutting of this ancient habitat has subsequently seen drastic declines in marbled murrelet populations.

For you die-hard Olympic and soccer fans out there, it's not too early to start making travel plans if you dream of heading to Vancouver for February's 21st Winter Games or journeying to South Africa for next summer's FIFA World Cup.
   
In the Practical Traveler column in this weekend's New York Times, Michelle Higgins details the best options for both big events along with handy links and thought-through strategies. She asserts that despite the bad economy, demand is still quite high for both events and the best way of getting tickets and a place to stay is to work with a tour operator.
   
For the Vancouver Games, the third hosted by Canada and the first for the province of British Columbia, only one company, CoSport, is authorized to sell tickets in the U.S. and they're already sold out, though more tickets may be released for sale this fall.

IT contributing writer Andrew Evans sends along this post about one of the plus beaux villages in Quebec.

Canada's different. I keep on remembering that every time I go back, and then I slowly forget it until the next time. It's not the language or the money or the license plates. It's just this feeling of openness that probably comes from having a lot of land and not a whole lot of people.    

Traveling in Québec, I found a small town that I will never forget. It's very small--only about 1,200 people live there--but its cinematic beauty and idyllic atmosphere is so enchanting that I began wondering how I might move there one day.  

From afar, L'Anse-Saint-Jean looks like the kind of bucolic scene you learn to oil paint on Saturday morning television. In the distance stand the majestic rock cliffs that border the Saguenay fjord--one of the longest fjords in the world. In the middle ground are the silver-blue waters of the fjord itself disturbed only by a tiny hump of an island named St. Jean. Spotted dairy cows graze between a marshy shoreline and the surrounding hills of dark green pines. A scattered chain of century-old farmhouses follows the dusty road into the foreground with its requisite steeple, happy front yard flowers spilling over white picket fences and a babbling brook to boot. Above the rushing water sits the finishing touch: an old-fashioned covered bridge made entirely of wood, Le Pont du Faubourg.

The covered bridge and the town of L'Anse-Saint-Jean are so infectiously cute, the scene was depicted on the back of Canada's original $1,000 bill. Eighteen years passed before anyone in the town laid eyes on a thousand dollar bill and recognized their hometown on the money. The series has since been discontinued and back in 1996, a terrible flood destroyed the town's famous bridge. The loss of the bridge in real life and on paper was a tragedy for what it represented--the disappearance of a small town.

In just a few weeks I'm heading off to Victoria, B.C. for a much-needed weekend of R&R. It's been over 10 years since I've been to Vancouver Island, and well over 15 since I've toured the elegant Butchart Gardens and ever-popular Royal British Columbia Museum. With hardly 36 hours in the city, I want to know from you--what are the must-dos? The quirky, off-the-beaten-path attractions? Do I take tea at the Empress, or do you know of a better place to dine like the Queen? Leave your suggestions for great restaurants, local attractions, drives, and sites in the comments below, and stay tuned to find out what I did on my trip!

Read More: Readers tell the editors where to go in past Plan My Trip! entries.

Photo: cleverdame107 via Flickr

Greetings, city-lovers! Today we're heading north to Kingston, Ontario, a city Zoe and Don Timperon want recognized for its World Heritage status, and much much more.

Want to see your city on IT? Copy and paste our list of fill-in-the-blank questions into an e-mail, fill in your answers, and send your responses to IntelligentTravel@ngs.org. And if you're still waiting for us to feature yours, fear not! We're going to keep posting as long as we keep getting them (please include photos and links!).

Kingston, Ontario is My City

The first place I take a visitor from out of town is World Heritage site Fort Henry and Kingston's downtown waterfront.

When I crave a delicious and refreshing margarita I always go to Margaritaville.

To escape the stresses of life I head to the waterfront and either go sailing or enjoy a ride on the Wolfe Island ferry.

If I want to relax for a couple hours I go Kingston Mills Locks and watch the boats move along the World Heritage Rideau Canal.

For complete quiet, I can hide away at Big Sandy Bay, a remote shangri-la white sandy beach on Wolfe Island away from everything.

If you come to my city, get your picture taken with our town crier Chris Whyman, ambassador of Kingston.

If you have to order one thing off the menu from Tir Nan Og it has to be shepherd's pie.

Should airlines charge more for people who take up more than one seat? The Canadian Transportation Agency decided last year to stop Canadian airlines from charging an overweight or handicapped person more than the cost of one fare, even if a passenger takes up more than one seat.  Our article about this, in the April issue of Traveler, sparked much debate in our inbox. Our readers sound off:

Jane Bedrosian of Lubbock, Tex., wrote, "Rights for the obese! What about my rights as a normal-size person? I do not want to sit for two hours pressed up against some hot, sweaty stranger! I am very tired of political correctness only being applied to a classified few while the masses must endure and suffer in silence!" Nancy D. Anderson of Urbana, Ill., concurred. "I sure hope U.S. airlines don't do this. If they can't fit into a seat, they should buy two."

Ross Pezzack spoke up for the rights of tall people. "As a flyer of 'excessive' height, I suggest this right also be extended to clients who cannot fit into the small quantity of legroom most seats allow travelers. I would also ask that airlines allow excessive-height clients the right to prevent people in front of them from reclining their seats into their knees (if you are not tall you have no idea how much that hurts)."

Finally, Racheal Galushkin of Medford, Mass., suggested a solution. "While I can appreciate that seat straddlers have been charged extra and that this is a burden to them and the airlines are looking at reducing those costs, perhaps the real issue is a decent seat size. Shouldn't the size of the airline seat be reconsidered so that more of 'today's-sized individuals' fit into them?"

We're sure you have an opinion. Share it with us.

Photo: aslaugsvava via the Intelligent Travel Flickr pool

Hello, city-lovers! Today's city is Vancouver, British Columbia, and it comes to us courtesy of Amanda Ryan.

Want to see your hometown on IT? Copy and paste our list of fill-in-the-blank questions into an e-mail, fill in your answers, and send your responses to IntelligentTravel@ngs.org. And if you're still waiting for us to feature yours, fear not! We're attempting to post them as fast as we can (please include photos and links!).

Vancouver is My City

The first place I take a visitor from out of town is Granville Island. The Public Market is always a bustling place to check out foods and ingredients from around the world, exotic florists, fresh seafood, West Coast artwork in all forms, and lots more. There's always something going on outside as well; no matter how bitterly cold or stifling hot it is, you'll find at least a handful of buskers playing lively music, juggling knives, performing magic tricks or simply entertaining a crowd. From Granville Island I like to take a foot ferry across False Creek to downtown, a much more leisurely and picturesque mode of transportation than the bus.

When I crave sushi I always go to Shin Ju on Broadway. We Vancouverites love our sushi. In fact, there are more sushi restaurants per block here than in Japan! Shin Ju's unpretentious atmosphere, excellent service, and affordable and consistently great food is what brings me back every week.

To escape after a busy week I head to the seawall. Winding along the coastline of the city, the seawall offers the best view of ocean, mountains, beach and great blue herons you'll get on this side of the country. It's also the best place to get lost in a crowd, and benches throughout offer top-notch people watching. Strolling the seawall with a coffee and a good friend is one of the most relaxing and refreshing things you can do here.

If you come to my city, get your picture taken with the Steam Clock in historical Gastown. It's kind of cliché, but the clock is truly unique in that it was the first steam clock to be made by Canadian horologist Raymond Saunders, who went on to build the clocks for cities around the world. Ours is fully functioning with the telltale plumes of steam, and whistles the Westminster Quarters every quarter of an hour.

When I'm feeling cash-strapped I go to the Vancouver Public Library. Probably the most controversial piece of architecture in the city (either you love it or you hate it), it's seven stories high and filled with 180-degree views of the downtown core. I love to sit and flip through magazines, wander the levels and shelves picking up books at random, shuffle through jazz CDs or check out whichever free lecture is being given in the conference room. VPL also holds a twice-yearly used book sale, an elbow-to-elbow affair where book rats like me can walk out with an armload of discarded treasures for a meager amount of money.

Photo ops in my city include a view of English Bay, the False Creek Olympic Village, Chinatown in the summer at night, Celebration of Light fireworks in the summer, looking across the water at the downtown skyline, Stanley Park Lagoon and the best vantage points are any high-rise apartment along Beach Avenue, the Shangri-La Hotel, anywhere along the seawall, Granville Island, Charleson Park, and (my favourite) a foot ferry across False Creek.

If you are someone who hopes to hike the entire Appalachian Trail, word to the wise: It's getting longer and longer every day.

OK, so the original Appalachian National Scenic Trail isn't getting longer--those 2,175 miles are staying as is. But the International Appalachian Trail (IAT)--the stretch of trail that follows the Appalachian Mountains beyond the original Appalachian Trail terminus in Maine--is getting longer each year.

Newfoundland and Labrador plan to complete three new sections of trail through the Long Range Mountains, bringing the total length of trail in the province to approximately 750 miles. And with more mileage comes more amazing scenery. The three three sections in the works for 2009--Lewis Hills, Blow Me Down Mountain, and Devil's Bite (pictured below)--boast rugged mountains, pristine river valleys, and 1,000-foot waterfalls.

Don't make plans to trek through the three new paths this summer, as they aren't scheduled for completion until the fall. If you're really chomping at the bit for some fresh IAT action, check out Indian Lookout trail near Gros Morne National Park, which will open on August 1. Surely its views of fjords, scenic backcountry, and a 1,200-foot waterfall can placate you until the full 750 miles are completed.

Read more about the IAT's history and plans for the future after the break.

Traveler staffer Kimberly Calder offers a preview of the 2010 Olympics outside Vancouver, B.C., on the slopes of Whistler.

Whistler Blackcomb is epic. The terrain is endless, the powder is plentiful, and even the locals see the possibilities for adventure as infinite. In 2010, Whistler Blackcomb will be hosting the Olympic and Paralympic Alpine events; however, while it's still dumping snow in Canada (and probably will be until late spring), now is a great time to get a taste of this playground as it revs up to host the games.

One particular improvement done for the Olympics makes choosing your perfect ski adventure even easier. The Peak 2 Peak lift now links the two mountains in an 11-minute gondola ride. (The previous option included a 40-minute run to the base and, depending on lift lines, another 15-minute ride to the top.) Now mixing a little Jersey Cream (at Blackcomb) into your morning runs at Whistler is sweeter than ever.

No matter where you end up, you can easily spend all day on either mountain. While both have an assortment of skiing levels, Whistler has more terrain and can feel crowded because of its popularity. Blackcomb, on the other hand, has more advanced runs but tends to get icy first. One constant is the beautiful valley views from all directions.

Friend of IT Tobias Nowlan just came face-to-face with ferocious polar bears. (And no, he's not on the Island from Lost.)

A siren echoes over town. Now gunshots; one, two, three... A Range Rover pulls up beside me, a man leans out: "get inside now--there's a bear in town!" The aurora flickers dimly and greenly above Hudson Bay. Stalactites have formed on the rim of my woolen hat. I wander back inside.

It's my first night in Churchill, Manitoba. It's taken 18 hours to get here. There are no roads to Churchill--only planes and trains can get there. The train journey takes two days, but is cheaper, and may reward travelers with caribou, moose, and wolf sightings. I've come here for one reason: Churchill has been dubbed the "Polar Bear Capital of the World."

Polar bears gather here every fall, waiting for the waters of Hudson Bay to freeze entirely so they can hunt blubber-coated ringed seals on the ice. Trapped on land for months, the bears are starved. They would kill me in a second given the chance. Due to climatic warming, the bay now freezes later, reducing the bears' hunting season (their hunger increasing each year). The species is literally starving to death.

Driven to come to Churchill by a "see them while you can" motive, tourists are trundled over tundra by Tundra Buggies, weaving them between hungry bears. The leviathan trucks will approach bears for a while and stop: Tundra Buggies stick to a policy of not chasing bears and interfering as little as possible. Vehicles follow set tracks closely, and specific areas are designated for specific trucks, preventing Masai Mara-type situations of 12 trucks watching one animal. I found little ethical fault in this thriving industry, and saw that each season, thousands learn of the polar bear's climate change-induced demise firsthand. This doesn't account for the regular occurrence of photographers oblivious to the disturbance of their own volume and of the bears' superb hearing.

I see a mere 70 polar bears this weekend, including sparring (fighting) males, and a mother with cubs. I also watch a huge male try the ice out in the bay, his rear half collapsing through with every other step. He groans as he breaks the ice, falling into freezing water. He cannot afford to get this wet now without the promise of food any time soon. As our world warms, and Churchill's "polar bear season" is likely extended, this scene may become a more frequent one.

All through December we're showcasing the best of the holiday season in cities around the world. Today it's Christmastime in Montreal and we've asked local experts for the essential ways to enjoy the winter's best. Visitors and locals alike come together to celebrate the holidays and the New Year, and we encourage you to share your own favorites with us in the comments below. You can find all of the cities we've already visited and stay up-to-date on the rest by bookmarking the series here.

We've talked a lot about Montreal lately: It has gorgeous architecture, is the second-largest French-speaking city after Paris, and was the first to sign our Center for Sustainable Destinations Geotourism Charter. That's all well and good. But the reason I really love Montreal is the beer.

The Quebec region is nationally famous for its beautifully crafted bières artisanales, but for some reason, few of them make it big in the U.S. As something of a beer lover, I have come to regard Montreal as my holy beer grail. In fact, it's host to the World Festival of Beer, "the most important international beer festival in North America," held annually in early June.

To make a good thing better, most of the city's brewpubs are within walking distance of each other near the city's vibrant Latin Quarter. On a recent weekend trip, I went microbrasserie-hopping, hitting up some old favorites and making new discoveries. I was not disappointed. Here are a few top finds:

Unibroue - This microbrewery is located in the town of Chambly, but the beer is available all over Quebec, including Montreal. This is the producer of my favorite beer ever - La Fin du Monde (which translates as The End of the World). One of the region's trademark breweries, Unibroue brews strictly according to centuries-old European traditions, which means that no artificial chemicals are used in its production. The beers are fermented right in the bottles, and because of their quality, they have an extremely long shelf life ("Flavour evolves to a port wine after ten years," says the website). With eight different year-round beers to choose from, Unibroue has something everyone can enjoy. Most of them are available in U.S. specialty beer stores.
Recommended beers: La Fin du Monde, La Raftman

Check out the complete list after the jump.