Saint John carries a weight of history that you can feel the moment you step ashore. The Maliseet and Mi'kmaq peoples gathered here for thousands of years, drawn by the salmon-rich river and sheltered harbor. When Samuel de Champlain sailed into this harbor on June 24, 1604 — the feast day of Saint John the Baptist — he could not have imagined the city that would rise here, or the tides that would shape its destiny.

On May 18, 1783, the first wave of Loyalists landed at Market Slip — families fleeing the aftermath of the American Revolution. By year's end, fourteen thousand souls had arrived, transforming this wilderness outpost into a bustling colonial port. The two settlements that sprang up, Parrtown and Carleton, were amalgamated by royal charter, and on May 18, 1785, Governor Thomas Carleton incorporated Saint John as a city. It became Canada's first — the oldest incorporated city in what would become the nation, and the first in all of British North America.

We docked right in town, stepping into this layered story. Our first stop was the Reversing Falls — and the name undersells it. The Bay of Fundy holds the world's highest tides, rising and falling up to sixteen meters (fifty-three feet) twice daily. At this narrow gorge, the mighty Saint John River meets those relentless tides in a twice-daily battle. We arrived at high tide to watch the rapids actually flow backwards, the ocean overpowering the river in a churning spectacle of white water and raw hydraulic force. It is absolutely mesmerizing — nature showing off.

Then we wandered to City Market, and here's where history becomes tactile. This beautiful structure has been the heart of Saint John since 1876, making it the oldest continuously operating farmers' market in Canada. The arched timber roof — designed to resemble an inverted ship's hull by the same craftsmen who built sailing vessels — shelters generations of vendors. We sampled dulse (a local seaweed snack that grows on you), smoked salmon, and fiddle-head ferns. The market hums with the same energy it must have had when Loyalist descendants sold their wares to ship captains and lumber barons.

We spent the afternoon at Irving Nature Park, watching harbor seals laze on the rocks, bald eagles wheel overhead, and autumn foliage reflect in tidal pools that empty and refill with the Fundy rhythm. For food, we had excellent fish and chips at Steamers, and the truly adventurous should try the moose pie — this is the Maritimes, after all.