Well hidden amongst the two story hedges of Vancouver's exceedingly private Southlands, a picturesque equestrian village once beckoned my ritual morning stroll. Home to pure bred steeds, perfectly manicured gardens, and exquisite modern builds reimagined from the local Craftsman tradition, I'd meander through the winding dirt roads closed off to thru traffic for ponies to ride in peace. Eventually, I would arrive at my favorite dirt path behind Celtic Avenue: an earthen walkway nestled deep in rhododendron and thrush along an aquatic corridor where instead of cars, each home presents a small dock and personal yacht wading in the water below. A woman on horseback would appear to have stepped out of the pages of Town & Country, approaching to wish me a Good Morning and chat about the clear blue sky. 'This isn't the Hampton's of Vancouver after all', I would think to myself. Our old neighbours in New York City could barely muster a 'Hello', and at the time I preferred it that way. But Canada offers something new: the locals are as lovely as their animals.