We are herded onto a motor coach for a trip from the Canadian Border to Whitehorse where we will catch a charter flight into the interior of Canada. I expect a long drive with trees lining both sides of the road. Time to find my kindle. At least the bus is comfortable.

Except I never actually turn on the kindle. Shortly after we cross the border there are fascinating glacial lakes. And then there is a bear. The young bear is adorable as he plays by the roadside. Our driver is kind enough to pull over and let us watch until he trundles his way back into the forest.

Before I know it, we are in Carcross, Canada (short for Caribou Crossing). I’m told two towns shared the name Caribou Crossing, but the post offices in each town got really tired of the mail mistakes so this Canadian town just permanently shortened its name to Carcross.

There isn’t much in Carcross, but it is lovely nonetheless. There is a complex of new buildings which house a visitor’s center, shops, and cafes. The buildings are decorated in indigenous design and support the local population.

I buy a coffee and a slice of tiramisu. I am a self-confessed tiramisu snob, so I wasn’t expecting much. I was wrong. It is creamy and lovely in every way. Real cake and real mascarpone. No pudding imposters. Yay! Authentic tiramisu in the middle of Carcross under the shadow of a totem pole. The world is a surprising place.

There is a railroad stop here. It is the end of the line for the regional White Pass Railway. I wonder to myself why we didn’t just take the train this far, but I am not planning this adventure. I will leave the car planning to someone else this trip. Instead, we walk out to the old trestles and look at the beautiful water.

From here we can see the old town. There is a grocer, a general store and a hotel. They are all in original buildings from the 1800’s. The most unusual is the Caribou Hotel. Here, I read the story of Polly, a yellow and green Amazon parrot. Polly arrived in 1898 during the gold rush via the Chilkoot trail and took up residence at the hotel in 1918. Polly’s owner was a ship captain who died in a tragic sinking of his ship, “The Princess Sophia”. Polly lived over 122 years (until 1972), spending most of them at the hotel. Known to the locals as foul-mouthed and hard drinking, Polly bit patrons and also sang opera. I’m sorry to have not made his acquaintance as he sounds like a local legend.

I like Carcross. The nearby green lakes, the river, and the history give it charm and depth. Carcross proves that sometimes a small spot along the road can be wonderful.