Ocean views and forest trails

Some walks feel less like exercise and more like adapting to the city’s pastoral cadence. That’s exactly how the Stanley Park Seawall Loop felt to me.

The roughly six-mile route begins near Coal Harbour, where sailboats bob in the marina and Vancouver’s skyline reflects across the water. On a clear morning, the North Shore mountains rise behind the city, seagulls circle overhead, and the path ahead feels like an invitation to take your time, which I definitely did.

As I followed the harbor, the polished waterfront gradually gave way to something quieter and more deeply rooted. The Brockton Point Totem Poles soon appeared along the shoreline, standing tall among autumn leaves and salty sea air. I had seen them in photographs before, but being there in person felt entirely different. Each carved cedar pole holds stories, family histories, and symbols belonging to Indigenous nations of the Pacific Northwest Coast. Standing beneath them, I felt the significance of the place as much as its beauty.

Just beyond the poles, I came across one of those details that would be easy to miss if you were rushing: the dramatic dragon figurehead from the RMS Empress of Japan. Its fierce, painted face still looks out across the harbor toward the Lions Gate Bridge and the North Shore mountains, as though it has been quietly guarding the water all these years.

A little farther along is Brockton Point Lighthouse. Its small red-and-white tower looks almost delicate against the vast backdrop of Burrard Inlet. I stopped there for a while, watching freighters move slowly across the water and soaking in the calm, coastal stillness.

Then came the Girl in a Wetsuit, perched gracefully on a rock offshore. Inspired by Copenhagen’s Little Mermaid but unmistakably Vancouver, the bronze figure feels both playful and contemplative. Under a moody sky, with ships passing behind her, she seemed perfectly at home among the changing tides.

Farther west, Siwash Rock rises dramatically from the shoreline. Shaped by time and connected to an Indigenous story of transformation, the solitary sea stack commands attention. With waves breaking below and the forest climbing behind it, this was one of those moments when everything else seemed to fall away and nature quietly took over.

Past Third Beach, I left the seawall and headed inland. The change was almost immediate. The sounds of the city faded, replaced by birdsong, rustling branches, and the earthy scent of cedar and moss. Surrounded by towering old-growth trees, the forest felt ancient, cool, and wonderfully still.

Eventually, I reached Beaver Lake, where lily pads floated across the calm water and ducks drifted by. It felt like a secret pocket hidden in the middle of the park. From there, I continued past the Stanley Park Rose Garden and the wide lawns of Ceperley Park, where families relaxed in the grass and cyclists passed through the afternoon light.

Little by little, the skyline returned, along with the familiar hum of Vancouver. When I finally arrived back at Coal Harbour, it felt as though I had traveled much farther than six miles.

This wasn’t simply a walk around a park. It was a journey through the many layers of Vancouver: coastline, culture, history, story, forest, and city, all stitched together by one beautiful path.