I didn’t know much about Halifax before we booked our cruise, but the moment we stepped off the ship, it clicked—this is a waterfront city built for wandering. In one port day, we squeezed in the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic, a surprising Prince Valiant trivia find, a Titanic exhibit with Halifax ties, a lobster roll stop recommended by locals, and a brewery tour at Alexander Keith’s that turned into one of the best we’ve done anywhere.

Once we started doing a little pre-trip research, though, we realized Halifax had real potential—museums, lobster rolls, and what ended up being one of the best brewery tours we’ve ever been on. And yes, before anyone says it, Sierra Nevada’s NC location still holds our personal number one spot. But Halifax made a serious run at it.

We started the morning the way any cruise morning should start: breakfast and coffee. If you cruise Royal Caribbean a lot and you’re a caffeine person, that coffee card is worth looking into (though Jen told me the price has gone up—because of course it has). Still, it was a nice little bonus knowing we were going to get our caffeine fix every morning without doing math at 7 a.m.

Once we stepped off the ship, we did what we always do in a new city—we started walking. Halifax makes that easy. The waterfront has that “we’re going to accidentally have a great day” energy, and almost immediately, we passed places we knew we’d circle back to later, like Garrison Brewing Company and The Waterfront Warehouse.

Our first real mission was history. We headed to the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic (part of the Nova Scotia Museum system), but we didn’t even make it there without Halifax throwing us a weird little trivia nugget.

Jen spotted a plaque on a rock that featured an image of Prince Valiant. Not something I expected to find on a waterfront walk in Nova Scotia, but there it was. The plaque explained that Prince Valiant in the Days of King Arthur is considered one of the earliest action-adventure newspaper strips, created in 1937 by Nova Scotian artist Harold Rudolf Foster. He was born nearby on Lower Water Street in 1892. I’m a big believer in learning something new every day to keep your brain awake, and Halifax made that happen for us before we even got to the museum door.

Inside the Maritime Museum, I made the classic move of paying with Canadian cash I’d gotten from my bank a week before the trip—because I’m apparently the kind of person who still thinks that’s the smartest option. Meanwhile, the exchange rate was working in our favor, and I should’ve just used my card. We’d see that advantage later when we bought a few things that magically felt about 20% cheaper than they would at home.

The museum itself was the perfect first stop. It was packed with models of older vessels, exhibits on how lighthouse lights actually work, and an entire section on the 1917 Halifax Harbour Disaster. That one isn’t a casual read. If you don’t know it, look it up. It was one of those moments when you walk through an exhibit and realize a city’s history isn’t just about charming buildings and harbor views—sometimes it’s about catastrophe on a scale you don’t expect.

Up on the second level, the museum had a Titanic exhibit filled with details about the ship and Halifax’s connection to the story afterward. We read about the class divisions, the scale of the operation, and how the Titanic wasn’t just a tragedy—it was also a logistical mess in real time. One of the facts that stuck with me was the price of first-class tickets, because it’s always fascinating when you see history through money. We also sat in a replica of the deckchairs used on the Titanic, which were usually reserved for first and second class passengers—one of those small moments that feels weirdly surreal, like you’re borrowing a piece of history for thirty seconds.

And then we hit the part of the day where travel humbles you.

Before our trip, we’d reached out to J.D. Shore’s distillery. We told them we’d be in Halifax on this specific day, and asked if we could talk to the distiller—especially since there are North Carolina and moonshine ties there that would’ve made for a great story angle. Unfortunately, that never panned out, and maybe it was for the best. When we arrived at the distillery, they were closed and in the middle of moving to a new location.

But sometimes the best moments happen when Plan A dies in the street.

Because one block over was Alexander Keith’s Brewing Company, and we pivoted. At first, we didn’t even want to do the full tour—we figured we’d just sit at the bar and try a couple beers. Except that wasn’t an option. No bar service unless you do the tour. It felt annoying for about two minutes until we realized the tour is basically both the bar and the story.

It was about $28 Canadian per person—roughly $20 USD—and it was worth every bit of it.

We met our guide and started with a beer right away—an IPA. Now, Jen doesn’t usually like IPAs, but this was a lighter IPA, almost pale ale-esque, so she could handle it without giving me the “why do you do this to me” look. The guide walked us through the history as we moved into the next room, which was a replica of Alexander Keith’s dining room.

That room was like a mini museum—bottles, cans, photos, old documents—everything that makes you realize this isn’t just a brewery, it’s part of the city’s identity. There was even a story about a bottle found by a local scuba diver, said to be 125 years old. Halifax just casually drops stuff like that on you and expects you to keep moving.

From there, we were handed off to another guide who walked us through the ingredients—hops, grain, barley—and the fermentation side of things, and we got a sample of Keith’s premium white ale. It reminded us of a Blue Moon-style beer, but honestly, we liked it more.

Then we ended up at The Stag’s Head, which is where the tour goes from “cool” to “this is a memory.” It’s presented like a speakeasy-style space, taking you back in time where the tour wraps up, but not before you get a couple more samples, more stories, and then the employees launch into Irish songs. Not in a cheesy theme-park way—more like you’ve wandered into the right place at the right time. It was a blast.

We told friends later that if we ever come back on a cruise with them, we’ll do that tour again with them in a heartbeat.

After all that beer education, it was time to eat. We’d been eyeing The Waterfront Warehouse, and when locals tell you where to go, you listen. Inside, we took our seats, and it was busy—because anything on the waterfront is bound to be—but it had that energy of a place people actually hang out, not just a spot tourists get corralled into.

We ordered local wines—me a white, Jen a red—and then did the right thing: locally fresh oysters and a lobster roll. The lobster roll was tasty, almost like a chicken salad sandwich, but with lobster, and the homemade potato chips were exactly what they should’ve been. We enjoyed everything, but we also realized we’re still comparing every oyster and lobster experience to Portland, Maine. That first great seafood stop becomes your measuring stick, and then you spend the rest of your life chasing it.

After lunch, we made our way back along Lower Water Street toward the ship, stopping for photos along the boardwalk—The Last Steps arch, the famous drunken lamp posts, that whole Halifax waterfront vibe. But the real surprise was a woman walking her Persian cat on the boardwalk… on a leash… wearing a sweater.

On the walk back, we also found a wine and spirits shop and did what we always do—walked in “just to look” and walked out with bottles. We grabbed a bottle from J.D. Shore—the distillery we didn’t get to visit—because we wanted the small satisfaction of not leaving empty-handed. Jen picked up a bottle of Canadian wine she’d been hearing about before the trip, and we sampled a few spirits from a local distillery while we were at it.

Next up was Garrison Brewing Company. We split a flight—two IPAs for me, a porter, a sour beer, and a cider for Jen—because marriage is compromise and also because Jen has better judgment than I do.

The best part was we ended up chatting with brewmaster Daniel Girard, the kind of guy who makes you feel like you’re not just another tourist wandering in off the waterfront. They were in the middle of brewing a fresh batch of their annual Spruce Beer, and Daniel actually disappeared into the back like some kind of beer archaeologist to see if he could dig up a can from last year. No luck…but I respect the mission. Solid effort, genuinely cool dude, and it made the stop feel like more than “drink beer, take photo, leave.”

We snagged a couple of bottles for later, then looked at each other and realized we still had time for one more stop—so we headed a couple of blocks up the street to Rousseau Chocolates.

Inside, we did what any responsible adults do on vacation: hunted down rich little morsels to bring home for the friends who were watching our girls—Waffles and TiaMisu—while we were gone. We grabbed a couple of Canadian maple chocolate bars for them, plus a few pieces for “the ship stash” for us. Then it was back to the Brilliance of the Seas.

Now, back on the ship, it got us thinking about what we heard during our dinner the night before. While dining at Izumi—sushi, good mood, the usual “we’re on vacation so nothing can touch us” energy—the Captain comes on with one of those announcements that always starts calm and ends with your itinerary getting punted into the ocean.

Because Hurricane Melissa had just hammered Jamaica, we were going to have to skip our last port: Sydney, Nova Scotia.

Honestly, we weren’t crushed. We hadn’t built a whole game plan for Sydney the way we did for Halifax. Jen was the only one truly mourning—because she was locked in on seeing the Giant Fiddle. We’d also flirted with the idea of doing a ghost walk since it would be Halloween, but we did what we always do when we overthink things: took too long, and it sold out. So when the Captain delivered the news, it basically went in one ear and out the other. Other than the fiddle, we had our minds set on a cider place that sold lobster rolls out of a trailer behind the cidery. So nothing special.

What we didn’t expect—at all—was what happened after we got back to our stateroom after riding high off a perfect Halifax day and forgetting all about dear old Melissa.

Because there—right over our porthole—was a huge metal plate.

For a half-second, my brain did what it always does and went straight to the most ridiculous conclusion first: did my earlier “stroll around the cabin naked” moment traumatize someone on the dock so badly they decided to seal us off like a hazard to maritime society?

Nope.

Turns out, we were on deck 3, and the Captain was planning for swells to come up as high as our porthole. The plate, also referred to as “deadlights,” was there to keep the ocean from casually wandering into our stateroom overnight—which I’ll admit is a solid plan if your goal is “don’t drown in your sleep.”

Still…a little warning would’ve been nice. One small heads-up before the ship quietly bolts a giant metal lid over your only window to the outside world.

So the reroute back to Boston happened earlier than expected, and just like that, we were staring down two full days at sea. Not exactly ideal when you’re the kind of person who likes a plan, a schedule, and a drink that tastes better when you’ve earned it by walking around a new city.

But one of those days was Halloween, so we decided to stop pouting and lean all the way in.

We dressed up as Shaggy and Velma from Scooby-Doo—because if you’re going to be stuck on a ship, you might as well commit to the bit—we even brought Scooby fruit snacks to hand out and a stuffed Scooby Doo. And somehow, the universe rewarded us for it. We ran into another couple dressed the exact same way, which was equal parts hilarious and mildly unsettling…like we’d walked into a parallel cruise dimension where everyone packed the same suitcase.

Then it got even better. There was a whole group dressed as the full gang—and the cherry on top was a person in a wheelchair dressed up as the Mystery Machine.

Next up in our storytelling is everything that happened on the ship—the shows, the trivia we never won, and the adventures that had me out of my pants one night and seeing boobs from a woman I absolutely did not want to see boobs from. Oh yeah. It was scary. And after that, we’ll get into the food—from the main dining room to the specialty restaurants and every morsel in between. What we liked. What we didn’t. And how times have changed in the MDR since the days of my first cruise.

So stay tuned. Subscribe to our page to get the latest updates on our wine & spirits, culinary, and travel adventures.

It was Day Four. Our second port of call on this seven-day cruise. We departed from Boston, spent an afternoon in Portland, Maine, floated through a full day at sea, and then aimed ourselves at Saint John, New Brunswick—not to be confused with St. John’s, Newfoundland, which is roughly 1,700 miles northeast and would have required a triple-hole punch on our coffee card.

Saint John was the only day during our vacation when we booked an actual excursion. Normally, we’re self-guided wanderers, but Jen found a photography tour that promised to take us to parts of the city most tours skip—and teach us a few shutterbug tricks along the way. The tour was led by veteran photographer Lance Timmons, who knew exactly how to explain things without making anyone feel like they’d just failed a pop quiz. As Jen likes to remind me often, I am a terrible teacher, so outsourcing education to people who are patient and skilled is always the right move.

We made four stops, and at each one, Lance walked our group of about 25 through a different technique—perspective, framing, composition, and for some folks, how to turn on the grid feature to practice the rule of thirds. Most of it I already knew, but refresher courses are like stretching—you think you don’t need them until you absolutely do. Plus, different people explain things in different ways, and every now and then, you learn something new.

Our first stop was about 25 minutes from the ship, overlooking the Bay of Fundy, where we photographed an old abandoned lighthouse. Stop two took us to a low-tide beach where we worked on perspective while dodging driftwood and pretending our fingers weren’t freezing. It was 41 degrees, but according to Jen’s phone, it felt like 34. Lance handed out a pamphlet at the end with some genuinely good tips—which may become a future exclusive for subscribers because incentives are powerful things, right?

The third stop brought us near the docks where another cruise ship might normally tie up—just not that day—so we had open views of our own ship in the distance while learning a bit of Saint John’s history and diving into portrait photography. Then came the grand finale: the Reversing Falls Rapids.

If you’ve never heard of them, here’s the short version. The Reversing Falls Rapids in Saint John happen where the Bay of Fundy’s massive tides are so powerful that they force the Saint John River to flow backward several times a day. When the tides collide, the water churns into standing waves and whirlpools, creating one of the few places in the world where a river regularly reverses direction.

After roughly four hours, we were released back into civilization, tipped Lance and our driver, and headed into the city with only a couple of hours left. Jen, who we would later learn was walking around on a fractured ankle, powered through like a champ. Slowly, we made our way to Saint John City Market, the oldest continuously operating farmers’ market in Canada, dating back to the 1700s. The building looks like an upside-down ship hull, and inside you’ll find produce, bakeries, butchers, and food stalls that reflect the city’s working-class roots and modern food scene. The only thing we couldn’t find? Maple candy for Jen’s sister.

Next up was Picaroons General Store. With a name like that, you’d expect shelves of canned beans and lanterns, but we knew better—it’s a brewery. I grabbed a flight: hazy IPAs for me, a sour and a seltzer for Jen. It felt like the kind of place you could linger for a while, but we had about 2 hours before ship time, and we weren’t about to become one of those couples sprinting down the pier.

Earlier on the tour, Lance told us that if we saw Churchill’s Pub, we needed to go inside because they pour Guinness correctly. When a local says that, you listen. And wouldn’t you know it—there it was, right on our downhill walk back toward the ship. I ordered the Guinness. It delivered. Jen went with a blueberry wheat beer that reminded me of one we used to love from Fat Head’s Brewing in Ohio. The food menu looked tempting, but we had lobster roll business to attend to.

Steamers was our next stop. Busy place, but somehow we got seated immediately while others were negotiating shared tables with strangers. We ordered clam chowder and a lobster roll with fries, then went to work. Jen recognized Jackson-Triggs, a Canadian winery, on the wine list and went with a Merlot. I saw Moosehead and almost ordered the traditional lager before spotting the Moosehead 1867 Small Batch Hazy IPA. That was an easy decision, and it was probably my last drink before saying bon voyage to Saint John.

The food was solid, though I’ll say the lobster in Portland still wins this particular rivalry. But when you’re given melted butter on the side, all critiques soften considerably.

We wandered through Area 506, Saint John’s waterfront container village—about 30 vendors packed into shipping containers with pizza, smash burgers, tacos, gift shops, maple syrup products and a stage for live music. But I had my eyes on one thing: BeaverTails.

A BeaverTail is deep-fried dough, flattened and topped like a dessert pizza. Everyone on YouTube swears you have to get one in Saint John. We were full, and the line was long, so we shared a classic cinnamon-sugar version—and I could have eaten several more. There are twelve varieties, including Pistach-OH!, Banarama, and mEHple, plus BeaverDogs (hot dogs wrapped in pastry) and poutine. In my future, I see myself here with a hot dog, fries, poutine, and a BeaverTail, making absolutely no apologies.

And just like that, Saint John was over. Between the four-hour excursion and Jen’s ankle, we didn’t get to roam as much as we wanted—but we’re already talking about how to come back. That’s always a good sign.

Next stop—and hands down our favorite of the trip—Halifax, Nova Scotia.
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A Princess cruise ship was leaving right before our departure.

By Dathan Kazsuk
trianglearoundtown@gmail.com

After our cruise was booked, the planning came out, and my inner itinerary gremlin was unleashed—because our first-ever stop in Portland, Maine, was never going to be a casual wander. Jen knew it too. The moment we realized Portland was on the schedule, she quietly slid the planning duties across the table and let me take the wheel. And for good reason.

For a stretch in the mid-to-late 2010s, this small waterfront city was regularly crowned America’s craft beer capital, boasting more breweries per capita than anywhere else in the country. In a town that punches that far above its brewing weight, planning the day felt less like vacation prep and more like a moral obligation—one that would naturally involve beer, lobster, more beer, and a little bit of history.

But there was a small hitch. A very Portland-on-a-Monday hitch.

We pulled into port and stepped off the ship around 8:30 a.m., armed with a printed, detail-driven schedule. Stop one: Eastern Cemetery, the city’s oldest burial ground. The gates were still locked. So, we thought, let’s kill a few minutes, stretch our legs, and soak in some history. So we pivoted to stop two—the Portland Observatory just up the road. Built in 1807, a historic maritime signal tower is a perfect way to start the day on a high note. Or so I thought. After that uphill walk on Congress Street, we were greeted with a sign announcing it was “temporarily closed.” And here’s the kicker—three months later, it’s still closed.

At this point, I’m steaming. My steaming makes Jen upset. Because here’s the thing—I planned this. I checked the hours. Nothing online said “temporarily closed.” So we backtracked to Eastern Cemetery. It’s 9:15 a.m. now. The sign says it’s open. But it’s not. I’ll spare you the cussing—it never opened the entire time we were there. Not when we arrived. Not when we passed it again later. Not even when we walked by on our way back to the ship at 3:30 p.m.

That was it. Hard reset.

We walked back to the ship in near silence, which—if you know Jen—is far more unsettling than yelling. Back onboard, we camped out on deck 5’s Centrum, phones out, pencil on paper, my once-confident schedule getting a reality check. We cross-referenced hours, double-checked same-day listings, and accepted that when you’re this far north in late October, operating hours are more of a suggestion than a rule.

An hour later, refreshed and recalibrated, we stepped off the ship again.

Portland, Maine—part deux.
And this time, it was going to be fun.

From here on out, this is where things go behind the velvet rope. What comes next is part of our exclusive content—full stops, honest reviews of everywhere we went, what we ate and drank, and photos you won’t find posted on any of our public outlets. This is the unfiltered Portland experience, and you’re getting it first.

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Providence wasn’t supposed to matter. It was a budget stop—$130 a night instead of Boston’s $500 Saturday-night ransom—just a place to sleep before heading north. But somewhere between an unexpectedly lively downtown, a booked gondola reservation, and a bottle of sparkling wine drifting down the Providence River, the city quietly rewrote the plan. What should’ve been a pit stop turned into one of the most memorable nights of the trip.

We’re one day out from boarding Brilliance of the Seas, almost to the exact date in 2024 when we boarded Utopia of the Seas. Same time of year. Same Halloween-adjacent energy. Different ship. Different route. Same impulse to stretch the trip just a little longer by driving north first.

That’s how Providence entered the picture.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. It was logistics. A bed. A place to land before pushing into Boston, where Saturday night hotel prices behave like they’re being actively held hostage. Providence was $130 a night. Boston was flirting with $500. Decision made.

After Mystic, we figured Providence would be a clean, quiet dot on the map. Somewhere you don’t think about again once you leave.

And then Jen found La Gondola. Of course, you know I was looking up any local brewery I could find in the vicinity, but when Jen found a company doing romantic gondola rides with a five-star review, I really couldn’t say no to that—plus they allow you to bring your own bottle of wine along for the ride!

That was it. Plans shifted immediately. Waivers signed. Expectations recalibrated. Providence was no longer just a place to sleep—it was now part of the story.

We arrived around 1 p.m., our gondola reservation was at 5:30, giving us hours to kill. Which is exactly how you want to meet a city for the first time—unrushed, slightly curious, with nowhere urgent to be. The capital of Rhode Island, Providence, was founded in 1636, with layers of history around every corner—including Ivy League Brown University. But we’re pretty sure you’re not here for a history lesson—you’re here for our adventures!

Earlier that morning, social media delivered one of those small, uncomfortable moments that tend to follow us on the road. A friend—someone who used to call Jen “sis” before vanishing from our lives entirely—was also in Providence for a wedding. I sent a text. Nothing dramatic. Just a hey, we’re in town too, want to grab a drink?

No response. Not that day. Not later. Not ever.

Fine. Message received.

Parking turned out to be stupidly easy at Providence Place Mall—free, even though the mall itself was anything but quiet. A packed fall Saturday. People everywhere. And honestly? It made every mall I’ve ever been to in North Carolina feel like it was still warming up.

We went inside with one goal: a drink. That’s when I saw the sign for Night Shift Brewing and immediately course-corrected.

Night Shift lives inside Level99, which I was not prepared for. This isn’t some half-baked arcade situation. Level99 is a full-on adult playground—dozens of short-burst physical and mental challenge rooms designed to be beaten in under five minutes. We didn’t play, but we filed it away for next time.

At the bar, I did what I always do when I know we’re one-and-done—ordered the highest-ABV hazy IPA on the board. Jen went for a pistachio Mai Tai, which felt weirdly perfect in that moment.

Afterwards, we walked back down to street level and followed the river, partly to stretch our legs, partly to see where we’d need to be later. We found it easily. A quick chat with the attendant at the Moshassuck lot confirmed we were in the right place for the gondola ride.

Coordinates locked. No guesswork later.

Heading back to our car, Jen luckily made some notes on her phone where we parked: “Boscov’s + bras.” Which translated to “parked outside Boscov’s and entered through the lingerie department.” Foolproof!

Back in our room—which, plot twist, was actually in Woonsocket—Jen got ready while I crossed the street to a taco shack and secured provisions. Quick tacos, no frills, mission accomplished. And here’s a little trivia for those trivia-aholics out there: CVS Health, yes, that CVS, is headquartered in Woonsocket, Rhode Island. You’re welcome for that oddly specific factoid.

Once we layered up for the cold, we tucked a bottle of Raffaldini Vineyards’ Auguri sparkling wine under our arm and headed back down to Providence for our date on the water. We wanted to mark the moment with a North Carolina wine, and Auguri rose effortlessly to the occasion. The name itself—Auguri, a common Italian toast translating to “Cheers to Your Health and Happiness!”—sets the tone for this zero-dosage sparkling wine inspired by Prosecco Superiore from northern Italy. Crisp, vibrant, and unexpectedly full-bodied, it was a natural fit for the setting. Paired with the complimentary Italian wine biscuits from Buono’s Bakery, it turned a chilly evening into something quietly celebratory.

As soon as we arrived, we were greeted by owner Matthew “Marcello” Haynes, who’s been a gondolier since he was twenty—back when this was a summer job, not a full-time lifestyle. He looked on his sheet to find our reservation, waved us down to the dock, introduced us to Silvano, our gondolier for the evening, and handed over the essentials: two champagne flutes, an ice bucket, and wine biscuits. Already off to a strong start.

Now, we assumed Jen would be the one we’d have to worry about stepping into the boat. Nope. She glided in like she does this every weekend. I, on the other hand, took one confident step and immediately learned how responsive a gondola is to misplaced confidence. No falling, no splashing—just enough wobble for Jen to notice and immediately remind me that she had zero issues.

For the next 40 minutes, we drifted along the Providence River while Silvano shared bits of the city’s history, pointed out landmarks, and indulged my curiosity about why the river looked oddly shallow in spots. Turns out, around Waterplace Park and the Riverwalk, you’re not looking at the original river at all. In the 1990s, Providence rerouted and reshaped it as part of a major downtown revival—old rail viaducts removed, a new riverbed dug, concrete channels installed, and the depth and flow carefully controlled for flood prevention and navigation. It’s part urban planning, part stage design—and it works.

We took it all in slowly. City lights reflecting off the water, the hum of downtown around us, Silvano singing a couple of traditional Italian songs while we sipped sparkling wine. At some point, he even started tossing out post-ride drink recommendations.

Once we docked, we asked Haynes to grab a photo of us with Silvano. He did—and then tossed in a bonus selfie of himself for good measure. Solid move, Matthew.

After finishing the last of our wine, we wandered over to Union Station Brewery for a nightcap before calling it a night. We had an early morning ahead of us and a drive north to Boston, where the next chapter awaited—our 2025 Fall Cruise.

Jen went with a blueberry espresso martini—Stoli blueberry vodka, coffee liqueur, Irish cream, Frangelico, espresso—the whole decadent situation. I stuck to a beer flight: four hazy IPAs and one sour, plus pretzel bites because balance is important.

And that was that. A perfect cap to a short but memorable stop. We’re already plotting a return to Providence—and Mystic too—especially since Breeze Airlines keeps dangling some dangerously good deals. Add in an easy Amtrak hop between towns, and suddenly this feels like a regular thing waiting to happen.

We’ll see you soon, New England.

By Jennifer Primrose
trianglearoundtown@gmail.com

A fall road trip through New England has a way of slowing everything down—the traffic, the thinking, even the expectations—and that’s exactly what we needed before boarding our long-awaited New England and Canada cruise. Instead of racing straight to Boston, we gave ourse…

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By Jennifer Primrose
trianglearoundtown@gmail.com

There’s something about a fall road trip to New England that instantly shifts your mindset—early-morning highways, crisp autumn air, and the quiet excitement of a long-awaited adventure finally beginning. On our way to Boston for a New England and Canada cruise, we decided to slow things down and turn the drive into part of the vacation itself. Our first stop was Mystic, Connecticut, a coastal town known for its historic drawbridge, charming downtown, and the cult-classic Mystic Pizza. What started as a simple overnight stop quickly became the perfect way to ease into vacation mode—one small town, one slice of pizza, and one nostalgic moment at a time.

Reaching a certain age didn’t come with a “mid-life crisis” purchase of a shiny new Mustang or a sudden obsession with filling a wine cellar with rare bottles. Instead, it came with a desire to visit new places, try new foods, and say yes to adventures we’d somehow never gotten around to—those unspoken items that make up an imaginary bucket list we’ve never actually written down. One of those long-standing dreams was an autumn New England/Canada cruise, and 2025 finally gave us the chance to check it off the list.

And while Screw It Wine, Spirits & More is rooted in our love of wine and spirits, this series leans into the “& More”—because life isn’t always about grapes and barley. Sometimes, it’s just about living.

👉▶️ CHECK OUT OUR YOUTUBE VIDEO OF OUR TIME IN NEW ENGLAND!

Our autumn journey officially began at 4:30 a.m. on a crisp Friday morning as we headed north. We took the most direct route—and paid the $70 in tolls for the privilege—determined to start vacation on the right foot. The drive was smooth until we reached the chaos of New York traffic and the surprisingly slow crawl at the Connecticut border. At one point, we were squinting out the windows trying to spot Lady Liberty, only to realize we had absolutely no idea where we were in relation to anything.

A quick gas stop in New Jersey gave us our next surprise: full-service gas stations are still a thing. When the attendant tapped on the window, Jen explained—helpfully, she thought—that Dathan was inside pre-paying. The man just pointed to the sign: FULL SERVICE. Who knew? Well…now we do.

Passing the New York skyline truly took our breath away and immediately added a future trip to our bucket list. That feeling lasted right up until we found ourselves on the outskirts of the city, where Jen’s anxiety kicked into high gear as signs for Albany, Queens, and Yankee Stadium flew past. Then came the stop-and-go traffic in Connecticut—another unexpected hurdle. Thankfully, the scenery and the crisp fall weather did their part to keep the stress at bay.

After all the planning (and debating) about where to stop on our way to Boston, we had settled on Mystic, Connecticut—a name that probably rings a bell for anyone who grew up in the ’80s or ’90s. Yes, that Mystic. Home of the cult-classic movie Mystic Pizza starring Julia Roberts, Annabeth Gish, and Lili Taylor. Naturally, visiting the iconic pizza joint was non-negotiable.

We rolled into town around 4:30 p.m., checked into our hotel just outside Mystic, and, without wasting a second, headed straight for pizza. Fifteen minutes later, there it was—the glowing Mystic Pizza sign lit up like it had been waiting to welcome us.

But Mystic is so much more than a movie location. The quaint downtown is lined with charming boutiques and cozy cafés, anchored by an idyllic drawbridge that rises over the Mystic River. Add in the crisp coastal air and the kind of streets that make you feel like you’ve wandered into a Hallmark movie—or an episode of Gilmore Girls—and it’s impossible not to be smitten. Even with only a few hours to explore, the town’s historic character and small-town charm made an instant impression.

Mystic Pizza: First Impressions

The first obstacle for weary travelers: which door to go in? One was pick-up-only; the other, for sit-down service. We opted to sit down and order the infamous Yaiya’s Secret, a four-cheese pizza with a kick. The four cheeses on the vegetarian ‘za were mozzarella, cheddar, ricotta, and feta.

For beverages, Jen selected the Corvette Cooler from the menu, a house-made mulled wine, and soda water. Other seasonal cocktails caught our eye too—an Iced Chai Martini, Sprig and Fig Mule, Apple Cider Margherita, and The Garfield, bourbon with Disaronno and orange bitters. After the long drive, Dathan stuck with the house lager to start, and finished his meal with a hearty IPA.

The atmosphere was really what made the experience. Jen said it reminded her of Tony Packo’s Café in Toledo, Ohio—walls covered in movie memorabilia, a quirky nostalgia, and that cozy, lived-in charm that makes a place memorable even if the food isn’t the main draw. And honestly, that’s precisely why we came. Mystic Pizza has a legacy tied to screenwriter Amy Holden Jones, and stepping inside felt like visiting a piece of movie history more than chasing a perfect slice.

After dinner, we wandered downtown, snapping photos on the drawbridge, at the Liberty Pole Square, and by the historic church. As we navigated the streets of Mystic, Jen mentioned that the main street reminded her of Blowing Rock, North Carolina, while the waterfront reminded her of the small Michigan fishing town of Leland. This nostalgia became a theme of this trip.

The town looked even more magical under the evening lights, and it was easy to imagine a small-town romance unfolding on these cozy streets. After moving the car to avoid a parking ticket on day one of our vacation, we stopped at Chapter One Food and Drink for a Mule Flight—a fun way to warm up after our stroll. Next, we drove over to Olde Mistick Village and checked out Jealous Monk, Mystic’s only beer garden.

Dathan decided on a flight of local beers: all stouts or darker beers, and, believe it or not, a pumpkin beer—even though he swore those off years ago. He sampled the Two Roads Roadsmary’s Baby, a barrel-aged (rum) pumpkin from Stratford, CT; Ommegang All Hallows Treat, an imperial chocolate peanut butter stout; and Southern Tier Caramel Pumking. Jen opted for a cocktail off the new fall menu, the Sweater Weather Chai.

Finally, it was time to turn in. To save a bit of money during “shoulder season,” Jen had booked a hotel just outside Mystic. It wasn’t fancy—definitely “bare bones,” no hair dryer or continental breakfast, and the lobby and hallways carried a faint smoke smell despite being a non-smoking property—but at least there were no bed bugs. For one night, it was more than enough.

ARE YOU A PAID SUBSCRIBER? If yes, click here to read and see more of our Mystic adventures. Paid members will get the following behind-the-scenes fun:

• Pre-Trip Movie Night: Hear about Dathan’s first-ever viewing of Mystic Pizza.
• Cheese & Chow Chow Critique: Dathan vs. feta and ricotta, and Jen’s fearless tasting, detailed notes on “the kick.”
• Cocktails & Flights: Full tasting notes of the Corvette Cooler, Sweater Weather Chai, and Dathan’s Jealous Monk beer flight.
• More Images: We’ll toss many photos from our trip that no one else has seen. We saved them JUST FOR YOU!
• VIDEO: Want to see a full video of the Mystic Drawbridge open for a passing yacht? We captured it with a great view!

You know how every cruise brochure pretends you’ll spend your days soaking in the spa, watching shows, and discovering your “inner calm”? Yeah—none of that happened. We spent this trip chasing cold-water seafood—lobster rolls, oysters and clam chowder!

And because you’re part of the premium crew, you get the whole story. The unfiltered breakdowns. The best photos we didn’t share anywhere else.

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