Marie-Claire Chappet

‘You’ll see when you get there,’ my friend said. ‘There’s just a different vibe in Montreal.’ He wasn’t wrong. I travelled from Toronto by train – a five-hour journey made infinitely more bearable by the impressive landscapes that flashed past the window – to find that Montreal is a tale of two cities. Still distinctly North American – and Canada’s second most populous metropolis – Montreal is dotted with all the chrome skyscrapers and wide, bustling intersections you would expect. Yet around each corner there is also a dose of seemingly incongruous European flavour: a cobbled street, an old stone church, a statue in a tree-lined square. For every modern vista, there is a strip of café culture that kids you into thinking you have strolled down a French avenue.

Lisbon is, as they say; ‘having a moment.’ The Portuguese capital has become something of an international hotspot of late, with a deluge of, not just global tourists, but those decamping to become ‘alfacinhas’ – the local term for those living in Lisbon, which adorably (though mysteriously) translates as ‘little lettuce.’ The appeal is abundantly clear from the moment you arrive. This is a city which has atmosphere in spades. Aside from the sunshine, there is a feeling to Lisbon that immediately grips you: colourful façades, grand squares leading out to the Atlantic Ocean and the distinctive yellow trams cutting a precarious path down vertigo-inducing streets.

As the old saying goes: 'eat where the locals eat' – but why not travel like them too? Here are six Gallic-approved destinations in France to put on your radar. CassisCassis, France Not just a liqueur, this charming Mediterranean fishing port in southern France is a magnet for discerning Gallic tourists. It’s easy to see why. It possesses all of the picturesque landscape and warm weather that epitomises France’s southern shores, with none of the cost and crush of the Cote D’Azur. It is unfairly labelled ‘the poor man’s St Tropez,’ but why pass up the opportunity for analogous charm for half the price and a fraction of the crowds?

Vive la France! Our beloved Gallic neighbour has reopened its borders to the casual tourist once more and, as travel slowly yawns its way back to something resembling normalcy, it is the perfect time to hop across the channel. France, in my half-French-totally-unbiased opinion, is never a bad idea. The diversity of the country is staggering – offering you undulating valleys dotted with vineyards, luxurious beach breaks or quaint Provençal villages; the eternal allure of Paris and majestic snow-capped peaks. But why not discover its lesser known enclaves? Seasoned Francophiles may like to take this opportunity, after a miserable time apart, to discover hidden France.

The mist starts circling in, just dusting the hills with a soft, downy quilt. You can see for miles from my balcony, the tracks of the vineyards, the clusters of trees, the rooftops in the distance. This is Piedmont, laid out below me, all its undulating splendour, rich with wine, truffles and winding roads leading to endless villages and towns spilling over with hospitality and, yes, undoubtedly more truffles. Autumn is the perfect time to visit this criminally overlooked region in Northern Italy. This is largely because of the area’s local celebrity, the aforementioned truffle.

Speyside Speyside, north of Aberdeen, is the true heartland of whisky. From Cragganmore, with its complex blends and exclusive clubroom (think roaring fire and lots of antlers) for connoisseur whisky tastings, to Glenlivet, which sits in a remote glen and organises a variety of tours, from classic distillery poke-arounds to luxury samplings. Speyside is also home to Strathisla, which is the oldest working whisky distillery in Scotland (established in 1786) and, with its distinctive pagodas, may also be the most beautiful distillery in the country. The recent success story of the region is Copper Dog, a blended-malt created in 2016 at the beautiful 19th century Craigellaiche Hotel.