There are so many lovely places to visit in the world. My husband and I love traveling to Europe. Edinburgh in Scotland is our most loved city. In the past few years, we have also discovered some great North American destinations. While on vacation, we often enjoy popping into iconic hotels for lunch or a drink, which is a wonderful way to experience the property. Some of the outstanding hotels we have explored include the Algonquin in St. Andrew’s by-the-Sea, NB, the Hotel del Coronado in San Diego, and Dalvay by the Sea on Prince Edward Island. The pictures that have inspired this photo essay are from Dalvay by the Sea, which was built as a summer home in 1895 by Alexander MacDonald, a Scottish-American businessman. The hotel offers 25 guest rooms and 8 cottages, and is known for its European charm and excellent service. Please enjoy a brief visit to this luxurious home away from home through my words and photos.

After an invigorating and scenic bike ride around the north shore of Prince Edward Island, Cecelia Hart mounted the front stairs of Dalvay by the Sea, her home away from home on this autumn getaway. Feeling a bit wind-blown and quite hungry, she headed to the cozy bar off the lobby. She pulled off her hand-knit hat letting her wavy chestnut hair fall around her shoulders and unbuttoned her LL Bean barn coat.

The bartender greeted her by name. “What can I get you this afternoon?” she asked.

“I’d love a cup of hot coffee. Hazelnut if you have it. And how about the charcuterie board, please?”

“Very good.”

“Would it be alright if I sat in there by the fireplace?” Cecelia asked, waving toward the spacious, sunlit living room furnished with friendly groupings of plush armchairs and couches.

“Of course. Make yourself at home,” the bartender said with a smile.

Once she settled herself in one of the wingback chairs in front of the crackling fire, Cecelia didn’t have to wait long for the bartender to deliver a steaming cup of fragrant coffee and a plate of artfully arranged cured meats and cheeses accompanied by bread and crackers.

As she thanked the bartender, another guest wandered into the room and stood in front of the stone fireplace, warming her hands. Cecelia took a swallow of her coffee and watched the other woman with friendly curiosity. She was thin and wiry with a cap of silvery bobbed hair. She looked like she spent her free time on the tennis court.

“Hello, there” Cecelia said.

The woman turned, her blue eyes lighting up as she returned Cecelia’s greeting. “Do you mind if I sit here by the fire too?” she asked.

“I’d be glad for the company,” Cecelia said, introducing herself. 

“It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m Alicia Peabody.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the bar and said, “Let me just order a drink. I’ll be right back.”

While she waited, Cecelia pulled her knitting from the depths of her Italian leather backpack. She was making a sweater for her 3-year-old granddaughter. When Alicia returned carrying a tall coupe of sparkling wine, Cecelia set aside her knitting. She nodded toward the matching armchair beside her own. “Please join me.” She gestured to her overflowing plate. “If you’re hungry, feel free to help me with this amazing charcuterie plate.” 

“How kind. That does look tempting.” Alicia reached for a wheat cracker and a slice of Havarti cheese.

The two women chatted amicably and discovered that they shared a love for writing. Alicia recently had a book of poetry published.

“That’s wonderful!” Cecelia exclaimed. “I wish I could write poetry.”

“What do you like to write?” 

“I’ve written too many book reviews to count, and quite a few articles for a librarian’s professional journal. Now that I’m retired, I want to try my hand at fiction. Maybe a historical novel.”

“Marvelous! As a librarian I’m sure whatever you turn out will be impeccably researched. Any ideas what you would focus on?”

“I want to find out more about PEI, actually. I adore L. M. Montgomery, but I’m sure there is more to this lovely island than just Anne of Green Gables. I’d love to find a forgotten story from the past.”

“This hotel has quite a fascinating history. The concierge told me it originally was built as a summer home for a wealthy family from Ohio and the granddaughters ended up marrying into European royalty. Can you imagine what it must have been like in its heyday?” Alicia gestured enthusiastically encompassing the fireplace, the gleaming woodwork, and the sweeping staircase leading up to the guest rooms.

Cecelia nodded thoughtfully. “Imagine the stories that have taken place here. I wonder if the hotel has maintained any historical archives . . .”

She raised her coffee cup to Alicia. “Thanks to your intriguing idea, I have a feeling I may be coming back to the Dalvay before long.”