TIABC Voice of Tourism Newsletter – May 22, 2026

Tourism is a mosaic of stories. I was reminded of that very recently on what began as an unplanned road trip. Unplanned, I should clarify, because I made the bold decision to question Google Maps. I glanced at the suggested route, convinced I knew better, and turned down a side road that technically was not where I was supposed to turn.

And just as I realized that perhaps I should not challenge modern technology quite so confidently, I found myself entering a tiny dot on the map. Not even a town. More of a village. The kind of place you would miss if you blinked at the wrong moment.

I pulled into a vintage gas station to turn around. It had that unmistakable look of another era. There was a small convenience store attached, and since I was there, I decided to grab a Diet Coke.

The old-fashioned bell above the door rang as I stepped inside.Within seconds, I realized this was not your typical convenience store.

The walls were lined with photographs from decades past. There were what appeared to be hundreds of fishing lures displayed with the kind of intention that suggested they were more than inventory. While I am not a fishing expert, I grew up watching my dad carefully organize his tackle box, and I knew enough to recognize a serious collection.

Trophies lined a shelf, freshly dusted and clearly cared for. I leaned in to read the inscriptions: “Fishing Derby 1973” and onward, each with a photograph of the winning catch. There were stacks of fishing magazines from eras long gone and miniature replicas of sailing vessels perched carefully near the counter.

It did not take me long to realize that I had stepped into something special.This was not a store designed by a marketing team to feel authentic. It simply was authentic. Not by strategy. By love.

“Can I help you?” came a soft voice from behind the counter.

The elderly man who greeted me matched the décor perfectly. He wore a vest with fishing lures attached, a sun hat pulled down low, and was in the middle of crafting fly fishing lures for the nearby river.

“Well yes, you can,” I replied, smiling as I brought my Diet Coke to the counter.

I ended up drinking the entire thing right there as he told me about his lifelong passion for fishing. His name was Don. He explained that he had three small cabins out back that he rented to fellow fishing enthusiasts.

“No need to advertise,” he said with a shrug. “Word of mouth and lost souls like you find me.”

He seemed content with that. In fact, he was clear that too many visitors would ruin the experience. “Too many wrecks the fishing,” he added matter-of-factly.

An hour later, I reluctantly made my way back to the car. Don was preparing to head out and test his newly crafted lures. As I drove away, this time following Google Maps more obediently, I realized I had just experienced exactly what so many travellers are searching for.

Not just an attraction but an experience that tells a story.

Our tourism sector in BC is not built solely on iconic landmarks or headline destinations. It is a mosaic of stories. Stories from small, rural villages that barely appear on a map. Stories carried through generations in Indigenous communities. Stories unfolding in urban neighbourhoods tucked just off the main streets. Stories shaped by passion, by place, and by people like Don.

Collectively, these stories form the foundation of our tourism sector. They are what make travel memorable. They are what visitors talk about when they return home. They are what turn a detour into a highlight.

Tourism thrives not only because of landscapes and infrastructure, but because of the individuals who pour their lives into what they love and invite others to share in it.

If we want tourism in this province to continue to grow and resonate, we must continue to tell these stories. Not just the big ones. Not just the obvious ones. All of them.

Because in the end, it’s of all of the pieces of a mosaic that make the picture worth seeing.

Amber Papou, B.Ed, MBA, ICD.D

CEO, TIABC