A city girl goes to Whistler
What does Canada’s premier winter resort offer a city girl in June?
This dispatch is part of From the Window Seat, a series of immersive, long-form personal trip reflections, in-depth destination pieces, and sharp hospitality evaluations grounded in firsthand reporting and personal experience.
Ed. note: This trip was hosted by the property mentioned below. As always, I only share experiences that I genuinely love, and all opinions and recommendations are entirely my own.
I don’t ski. I don’t think I ever will.
It’s not something I did growing up, and I’m at an age now where I feel like I missed the proverbial boat. Kids have less fear and more malleable bones. At 34, I’m much harder to put back together after a hard fall and, let’s be very honest, it is not my idea of fun to willingly fling myself down a mountain. I’m good!
Maybe that’s a big part of why I never found myself in a place like Whistler, which has a reputation for being a winter destination. So when I was invited to stay at the Four Seasons Resort and Residences Whistler last month, I paused. What would a resort known for its winter adrenaline have to offer someone like me in the summer?
The drive in
Usually I loathe stepping off a plane knowing I have a ways to go before I get to my destination. Leaving the Vancouver airport, you still have to endure a couple hours in a car before getting to the resort. But as someone who could genuinely run for president of the carsickness club: the time flies. In fact, you might not even mind if it took longer. The breathtaking scenery that awaits you is such a treat it might as well be an official amenity on your trip. It was my first IRL look at these almost unreal vistas—glacial lakes in the most shockingly vibrant turquoise, framed by lush meadows dotted with blooming wildflowers, and snow-capped peaks soaring above it all. I couldn’t quite believe what I was seeing. I’d spent a lifetime identifying as a city-or-sand traveler, but taking in that landscape for the first time, I was instantly, irrevocably converted.
By the time the highway crested into Whistler, any residual travel fatigue had given way to sheer awe, and my jet lag had turned into pure adrenaline. If the drive here had been so inspiring, I couldn’t wait to see what else was in store.
Tucked into the Upper Village at the base of Blackcomb Mountain, the resort occupies a geographical sweet spot. It’s just a touch removed from the bustling pedestrian energy of Whistler Village, but if you do find yourself craving a bit of civilization, a leisurely ten-minute stroll down a shaded forest path delivers you right to the heart of town.
An alpine palace
At some luxury hotels, a suite can easily be too big for its own good—so cavernous you feel completely swallowed up by the space. Especially for me, traveling alone with my little carry-on suitcase. But at roughly 850 square feet, despite being one of the bigger rooms I’ve ever stayed in, my Deluxe Executive Suite struck the right balance. Yes, there was space, but it was put to good use: I had a dedicated dressing room and a massive walk-in closet (hotel unpackers, rejoice), a proper soaking tub in the primary bathroom, and a powder room for guests (with a second shower!), making settling in feel less like staying at a hotel and more like moving into a proper residence—one that happens to be larger than my actual place in NYC.
Each morning started on the balcony with a coffee, taking in one of the best views I’ve ever experienced—an uninterrupted wall of granite, deep evergreen canopy, and snow-dusted peaks. In the evenings, had it been chillier, I would have delighted in using the working fireplace inside. And as always, the bed delivered: you all know how much I love a Four Seasons bed, and I stand by the fact that you simply do not get a better night's sleep anywhere else on earth.
Special sips & bites
Something I learned on this trip is that Pacific Northwest seafood sets a very high bar. The Vancouver Island oysters served on property were a revelation, which I don’t say lightly as an East Coast oyster truther. Paired with a pour from the region’s surprisingly sophisticated wine list (B.C.’s Okanagan Valley produces world-class, cool-climate vintages), it made for an effortless afternoon lunch at Braidwood Tavern.
My personal culinary high point of the stay, though, happened in the privacy of the Residences for “The Art of Sushi,” an exclusive, multi-course omakase dinner prepared by Chef Jaime Magadia. With wagyu and torch-seared salmon on the menu, it was easily some of the best sushi I’ve enjoyed anywhere. And for mornings, their signature breakfast tower—a three-tiered, decadent spread layered from sweet to savory—arrived like an edible sculpture.
Getting grounded
When I first learned about the practices of forest bathing and earthing, I have to admit they sounded kind of gimmicky to me; more performative wellness boxes to check. But if you read my last article about my trip to Ireland, you know I’ve been on a journey to reconnect with nature, so I decided to fully lean into the experiences. Spoiler: I’m so glad I did.
Our guide led us into the forest near the resort where we were asked to remove our shoes and socks, which, for a city person accustomed to stomping on sidewalk concrete day after day, felt equal parts liberating and vulnerable. The idea is to connect—literally, physically—to the earth, to allow your body to absorb electrons that proponents say provide a whole slew of mental and physical benefits. The same is said of shinrin-yoku, aka forest bathing: the practice of allowing yourself to be fully immersed in nature through all your senses.
I remember what a beautiful morning it was. I tried to memorize the patterns the sunlight made as it filtered through the canopy while the sounds of the glacial stream rushed around us. It could have all easily felt too staged, too carefully curated for a luxury itinerary—but instead, it felt just right. In that moment, dipping my bare feet into the icy glacial stream, I was overcome with gratitude that I was able to experience moments like this. For the second time that month, the ever-present ambient mental chatter that usually follows me all but dropped away.
My new personality
Out of all the activities on the itinerary, the one I was most looking forward to was hiking. For those who know me, this may come as a bit of a surprise; I’ve never been much for outdoorsy adventure. And yes: theoretically, I could have always just gone upstate and hiked there, but standard-issue forest trail was never the draw for me. The unlock was the specific, surreal alpine scenery—that exact high-summer convergence of snow-capped granite peaks, lush green mountain grass, and glacial lakes so violently electric blue they look photoshopped.
There was a stirring I felt during my pre-trip research that gave way to an irresistible pull when I imagined a version of myself pushing through the burn in my legs, earning every single step of elevation gain, only to round a final bend to stand before a landscape so impossibly vast and vibrant that it makes you doubt your eyes. That combination of physical exertion and ethereal beauty is not something I can get at home at a Barry’s class.
But of course, life has a way of humbling your best-laid itineraries. The iconic Peak 2 Peak Gondola was closed while I was there, as were the two trails I was most l looking forward to (the Harmony Lake Loop and High Note Trail). So instead, we rode the Blackcomb Gondola up the mountain where we trekked through actual snow while admiring the views from above.
Now, I’m not about to move out of my apartment and go live off-grid or anything. But this trip did leave me with a strangely persistent itch.
Back in New York, the aftermath has been almost comical. My TikTok algorithm—once a steady stream of interior design, fashion, hotel reviews, and city dining—has completely pivoted to technical hiking shell reviews and backcountry trail prep in the Dolomites and the Swiss Alps. For the first time in my life, I’m actively planning a trip where the entire point is to walk up a mountain to sweat on a glacier.
I still don’t ski. But I guess I get it now.
The property at a glance:
Location: The Upper Village, Whistler, British Columbia (about a two-hour drive along the Sea-to-Sky Highway from Vancouver International Airport).
Best for: Luxury mountain escapes, off-season summer wellness, and travelers who want an effortless mountainside base camp.
The inventory: A mix of 273 spacious guest rooms and executive suites in the main lodge, plus 15 multi-bedroom Private Residences and townhomes.
Amenities: Award-winning spa (that just underwent a full renovation), heated outdoor, year-round pool with whirlpool hot tubs, fitness center with daily group classes and yoga, daily complimentary wine hour and fireside s’mores, guided nature experiences (bear safari!), and dedicated mountain bike/ski concierge service.
The F&B scene: SIDECUT Steakhouse for prime hand-cut steaks and regional Pacific seafood; Braidwood Tavern for elevated, casual mountain comfort food and après-style cocktails; Braidwood Café for grab-and-go espresso.
From the Window Seat: Skip the winter rush and opt for a summer stay when the resort slows down to a meditative pace. Prioritize connecting with nature here: book a morning of forest bathing, then go for one of the area’s can’t-miss hiking trails (While the High Note Trail was closed during my visit, it remains top of my bucket list for next time).
Window Seat covers the intersection of luxury hospitality, aviation innovation, and the culture of modern travel, written by Tori Simokov, a writer and designer based in New York. For partnership opportunities: tori@v1projects.com. You can also connect with her on Instagram, TikTok, or ShopMy.
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she's a mountain girl now!