A land of vast and other-worldly panoramas, from craggy, ice-capped mountains reflected in surreal gemstone-blue lakes to hobbit holes squirrelled away under rolling green grasses. Lovely people. Not many tourists. Incredible wine. I fell in love with New Zealand – bear with me – on my honeymoon in 2015, and I planned to go back as soon as I could. But I haven’t. Because of the one (Middle Earth-sized) downside: enduring 24 hours in economy on a soul-crushingly long flight. So I’m chasing a NZ fix closer to home and find it a seven-hour jaunt (a mere six on the way back) across the North Atlantic.

My husband, kids and I are embarking on a whistle-stop road trip from Ontario, famed for Niagara Falls and the Great Lakes, up to Quebec and back, in search of lush forests, glacial lakes and rugged mountains, alongside big city energy and small-town charm. North America’s fourth largest, Toronto, is a fun city for kids (ours are eight and six) and distracts brilliantly from the first couple of days of jet lag. We spend a morning at Ripley’s Aquarium, marvelling at luminous jellyfish and smiley rays, then watch the Blue Jays play (baseball) – a must if you’re in town for a Sunday home game. Included in the kids’ ticket price are tons of activities; face painting, balloon animals, play zones and ‘running the bases’ after the game.

Broadview Hotel roof terrace

Broadview Hotel room

An Uber-friendly 4km from central downtown is our hotel for the night in Toronto, the four-storey, Romanesque Revival-style Broadview, in a neighbourhood filled with families, hipsters, bars and parks. The rooms are quiet, cool and comfy, but its standout feature is the rooftop bar and restaurant, where I sip rose sangria. Is there much better than catching up with a local friend to a backdrop of skyline views, vibey soundtrack, sharing plates and moreish cocktails that disappear as fast as they arrive?

After a hearty Broadview breakfast of shakshuka and French cheesecake toast, we zip out of the city onto vast highways flanked by blankets of trees, arriving 200km later in Prince Edward County (named after the father of Queen Victoria, not the other one…). The three tourist towns in ‘The County’ are surrounded by emerging wineries, craft breweries and cider makers, with little signs at every other farm selling local fare and huge clouds of hydrangeas at every turn. It’s easy to see why city-dwelling Ontarians flock here for weekends away.

There’s Wellington, on the lakefront; Bloomfield, the prettiest; and the largest, Picton, is an ideal base – everything we visit is a 20-minute drive. Yes, there are petrol stations, McDonalds and a Metro sprawling along the road into town but quaint Main Street is lined with galleries and boutiques, although we end up spending more time in the tempting creperies and ice cream parlours. We drive past Merrill House at first, linen-white blooms crowding the entrance of this gorgeous red-brick Victorian building set back from the road.

We all agree that breakfast is the best meal during our time in Picton. Merrill House chef Lily chooses a hero dish then tailors it for each guest. She whips up incredible pancakes on morning two, after finding out that’s what the kids love most, and there are countless other thoughtful little touches, in keeping with Mr & Mrs Smith hotels I’ve visited before; from bespoke colouring books and just-baked cookies to a barrel sauna that can be reserved free of charge, arresting art at every turn and a PEC ‘passport’ for exploring local vineyards.

My son wants me to point out that our ground floor entrance is actually a front door, with its own deck, and our daughter singles out a portrait of the Queen (which we find her talking to more than once…) as a highlight, part of the Britannia-inspired interiors. “And the gold in the bar!” I should clarify that she had milk in a bronze tankard, while my husband and I feel like pirates boozing on potent cocktails detailed on a hand-drawn map, weighted down by that gold ‘treasure’. A Sandbanks lakeside beach day is a must, as are a lakeside meal at the Drake Devonshire, and tacos with citrussy ales and panoramic sundown views at Slake Brewery.

By this point, I’d happily have moved into Merrill House – The County’s small town charm has us wrapped around its little finger, especially after a few city days – but we are committed to going north. My husband is stoically driving the 500km; it gets increasingly scenic, the further we go and the drive is proven worth it. “You have reached your destiny,” pipes up my daughter, sat-nav style. I’m won over minutes into our tour, by golf buggy, and those mean the kids are immediately on board too.

Manoir Hovey is a knock-out, enveloped in 30-plus acres of towering, sun-dappled forest and wooing every guest with its white pillars, English gardens and verandas that demand nothing but relaxation. Built at the turn of the century, George Washington’s Mount Vernon home was the inspiration, and seasonal pursuits here in North Hatley include biking in the summer and skating or ice fishing in the winter; Lake Massawippi – Abenaki for ‘big deep lake’ – laps against the shore with glorious nonchalance. This is the kind of place that fills me with gratitude; despite the fact that the children’s questions and requests only properly stop when they sleep, we all take time to breathe in pine-scented air and watch gently rippling water.

Manoir Hovey

Of the 52 rooms, villas and suites, some are housed in the main building, some in a newer pavilion and others throughout the grounds, with a tree planted for every booking in a lovely touch. We’re in the Lake Pavilion and the children gasp when we walk into our room. Despite the welcome macaroons, and the fact that the room is Relais & Chateaux-standard next-level (whirlpool bath, exquisite wallpaper, colossal beds, spot-on furnishings, so on and so forth), they run straight to the balcony and gape at the view. It’s spectacular. Take that, New Zealand.

It takes about four minutes to walk to the main house but why walk when a golf buggy is on offer? Every time, the delightful staff turn up with a smile. As a next best to the buggies (not, unfortunately, available to ride all day long), the kids decamp to the pools and we head out on kayaks from the private beach. There’s a free activity for grown-up guests every day; my husband enjoys pickleball and I, for the very first time, manage to settle into a sound bath. Until I get wriggly at the 45-minute mark. Up to then (and before, in the spa’s thermal circuit) – bliss.

The sky is a cloud-smudged thunderstorm-grey as I walk back to our room and, within minutes, giant raindrops speckle the now-churning lake. We sit undercover on the Tap Room terrace – a gorgeously relaxed restaurant with lake views – as rain torrents down and the staff take it in their stride, kitted out in giant cagoules. As the unflappable, bow-tied maitre’d Alain says with a smile, “If you’re not happy with the weather here, just wait five minutes.”

Manoir Hovey

Sure enough, the sun is out by time we’ve enjoyed gnocchi (kids) and a couple of glasses of excellent Canadian wine (us). We barely scratch the surface of the 900-strong wine list but can confirm that the fish are as fresh as they come, from yellowfin tuna to swordfish, and that the kids’ menu does the trick. “The grilled cheese sandwich is best,” says my son. “It’s actually the chicken!” interrupts his sister.

The cherry on the top of this serene grande-dame-of-a-hotel cake, that first evening, is discovering the kids’ monitor reaches from room to the Lake Pavilion lounge, where there is – hallelujah – a wine dispenser. We play Scrabble, glasses in hand, lake in front of us, as children exhausted from fresh air, swimming, great food and fun, sleep soundly. Forget North Island. North Hatley is where you’ll find me on my next holiday.

The Broadview, from £163 per night, visit thebroadviewhotel.ca; Merrill House, from £213 per night, visit mrandmrssmith.com; Manoir Hovey, Lakeside Deluxe rooms from £552 per night, visit relaischateaux.com.

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