Although I’ve come to realize I’m a city girl at heart, there came a time when I decided to shake things up and give small-town living a try. I packed up and made the move from Toronto to a small town in Ontario, ready to live out my Stars Hollow dreams.
I thought, what the heck — why not give it a shot? Being closer to nature, the lower cost of living, and joining a tight-knit community were all things I’d romanticized, for sure.
So after a bit of planning and a lot of hoping for the best, I packed up and moved from Toronto to Gananoque (affectionately referred to as “Gan” by locals). If you haven’t heard of it, well, that’s fair. Neither had I.
It’s a tiny town on the St. Lawrence River, also known as the “gateway to the Thousand Islands.” It’s around 30 minutes east of Kingston, and lightyears away from the kind of life I was used to.
Toronto’s sparkling skyline was suddenly replaced with stars you could actually see, the constant noise with stillness, and endless traffic with quaint country roads. It’s truly a Stars Hollow kind of place, where strangers wave hello, and shops are closed on Sundays.
I visited a few times before committing, so I thought I had a decent idea of what I was getting into. I knew it’d be a big change, but what I expected and what I actually experienced turned out to be two completely different things.
Having zero anonymity
Biking in a small town in Ontario.
Brittany Barber | Narcity
In big cities, you have the option to live a sort of incognito existence. In a small town, not a chance. It feels more like living under a spotlight than anything else, especially if you decide to become involved in local events and activities.
In Toronto, you can go days, even weeks, without running into someone you know. But you’re not just another face in Gananoque. You’re a person, and you’re pretty much guaranteed to run into a neighbour or strike up a conversation with someone you cross paths with. People recognize you, remember you, and definitely notice what you’re doing.
My private life became mildly public, which was a totally different experience from city living, where no one really looks at you, even if you’re singing and dancing by yourself in the middle of the street. Making eye contact, smiling, saying hi to passersby — these were all things I avoided on the streets of Toronto. But in Gan? It’s the lifestyle; a rule of thumb you follow if you want to fit in. And I’m not saying one is necessarily better than the other. It’s just two very different ways of being perceived.
Realizing driving is mandatory
In Toronto, having a car is often more annoying than it is useful. From being stuck in traffic to finding a place to park, the better option is usually to take public transit, bike, or walk. In Gananoque, not driving would feel close to impossible.
While the downtown area is walkable, there were plenty of errands and occasions that required me to drive. And because the surrounding area is just so gosh-darn beautiful, exploring was a non-negotiable. But exploring without a car is not really a thing unless 6-hour bike rides appeal to you.
A way slower pace of life
I can safely say that I’m a fast walker. I admit, I’m often in a rush, even when there isn’t an emergency. In Toronto, that’s the norm.
In Gananoque, I had to adjust. The vibe there is chill. Like, really chill. People take their time. Conversations linger. Errands somehow stretch into full afternoon activities, especially if you run into someone along the way — and you always run into someone along the way.
I’ve had to learn to take it easy, take a breath, and not get so worked up when the slow walkers in front of me stop abruptly to window shop.
Being faced with limited options, generally
At first, the lack of choice was jarring. Fewer restaurants, fewer activities, fewer everything. But the places that do exist have a ton of character, and there’s something charming about becoming a regular at the local burger joint.
And when there’s less choice, it’s a lot easier to make a decision and get involved. Joining clubs and associations felt more accessible, too, because the barrier to entry felt smaller in Gan than it did in Toronto. It’s less expensive, less competitive, and because you end up seeing the same people all the time, it feels more community-driven.
That being said, there are only so many times I could rotate between the same few spots before I started daydreaming about city options again. At some point, I caught myself feeling pretty limited (which ultimately played a role in me moving abroad after a year in small-town Ontario).
Experiencing way less diversity
Coming from an ultra-multicultural city, it was an adjustment to find myself in a much more homogenous environment. I’ve always loved being surrounded by people from different cultures, hearing different languages, and wondering how everyone’s path eventually led them to the same city.
As a true Torontonian, that kind of diversity always felt completely normal to me. In a smaller town, there’s less of that, and it took some getting used to. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, just different from what I was used to, and something I became more aware of over time.
Varied store hours
Forget late-night convenience. Shops close early, sometimes unexpectedly, and Sundays can feel like the entire town collectively decided to take the day off. Planning ahead quickly becomes essential.
I’d come to realize just how spoiled I’d been in Toronto, where you can access pretty much anything at any time. Because, of course, the ice cream shop is going to shut down if it’s raining. And of course, the hardware store isn’t open on Sundays.
I had to check myself every time I compared the kind of convenience I had in Toronto with the lack thereof in this tiny town. I mean, the expectation doesn’t really make sense. But even knowing that, it was something I had to adjust to big time.
Realizing how little I actually knew about very normal, practical things
Things I never really had to think about in Toronto, like how certain services work and basic logistics, suddenly became learning curves once I moved to Gananoque. I grew up in apartment buildings without a lawn, garden, or any outdoor space that was actually my responsibility. So, mowing the lawn or dealing with sketchy tree branches? It didn’t come particularly naturally to me.
But figuring out garbage day was probably the most humbling part. I was used to Toronto’s bin system, which was simple, structured, and pretty hard to mess up. Suddenly, I was buying garbage tags, making sure bags were the right type, and double-checking rules I somehow kept getting wrong. It’s not complicated whatsoever, but wow, it really made me feel like I’d missed a very basic life lesson.
The views expressed in this Opinion article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Narcity Media.