Toronto’s New England Getaway

Bill King Photography

This was our seventh water taxi run to Toronto Island this summer. Seven trips. There are years when two or three drop-ins are all that happen, yet 2026 has an entirely different vibe.

Summer started late, and then the wildfires came. The noxious fumes kept us—and our house guests—inside our own houses. With a hostile winter finally behind us, it became mandatory to grab every sun-drenched day and play as though we were vacationing on Martha’s Vineyard.

The summer growing season has been above average, reminding us that Southern Ontario remains one of the country’s great breadbaskets. The peaches are cheerful. Strawberries are plentiful. The corn is tasty. Unlike the inferno south of us, temperatures here have been moderate for the most part, while rainfall, often arriving in the form of thunderstorms, has kept the crops bubbling underneath.

Toronto is situated in one of the most enviable regions on the planet. We get the cold, yes, but we get the sublime too.

Today’s run with the camera backed up my theory that people love Toronto Island and have adopted it as their New England-style getaway, even if only for a few hours. There is something about crossing the harbour that changes the day. The city remains visible, close enough to touch, yet the island feels like another place altogether.

After roaming the shoreline and photographing the sunbathers, swimmers and families at play, Kristine and I headed to the Riviera Restaurant, which sits just feet from the boardwalk and the sailboats.

I mentioned that the setting reminded me of my summer in Provincetown in 1980, when I was working with drag queen Craig Russell. I had an apartment on the beach and ate lunch near the ocean. The setting at the Riviera mirrors that experience in many ways: the water, the boats, the boardwalk and the casual sense that ordinary life has temporarily moved somewhere more glamorous.

It feels exclusive, yet it is simply ordinary Torontonians acting as though the quick sprint across the harbour were an exotic retreat reserved for the wealthy.

It is not.

The island is a paradise for people without the dollars—or the desire—to fly to some American waterfront, sit in hundred-degree heat and pay out the ass for the experience. Everything we are looking for is already here: the beach, the breeze, the sailboats, the restaurant near the water and the feeling that we have escaped somewhere far away.

Trump thought he was punishing Canadians with tariffs, extra security and increased surveillance. Instead, those punitive actions told Canadians to stay home and play at home.

That move has paid dividends for anything near a body of water.

We’re not done yet. There are still many more trips back to the island before summer closes the door.

A reminder: Toronto Island belongs to the citizens of Toronto, not a private landing spot for the rich and indifferent. A sacred patch there to be protected.