Things to Do in St. John's

About St. John's

St. John’s greets you with wind that smells of diesel, salt, and wet wool. It’s a city built on a tilt, where Jellybean Row’s famously bright clapboard houses cling to hills so steep the staircases between them feel more like ladders, and the harbor below is a working port of container ships and fishing trawlers, not a postcard marina. The soundscape is a constant negotiation between the low moan of foghorns, the tinny clang of rigging in the Narrows, and the sudden, raucous laughter spilling from a George Street pub door. You can stand at the top of Signal Hill, where Marconi received the first transatlantic wireless signal, and watch a storm roll in over the Atlantic with a violence that feels personal. The trade-off is the weather—it’s famously, unapologetically mercurial. You might get all four seasons in an afternoon on the East Coast Trail, where a hike that starts in sunshine can end in a cold, horizontal rain that soaks you through your supposedly waterproof gear. But that same weather keeps the place honest. A feed of fish and chips from Ches’s—two pieces of fresh cod, crispy batter, and a mountain of fries for CAD$18 ($13.50)—tastes better when you’ve just come in from the damp, and a shot of Screech rum at The Ship Inn (CAD$7 / $5.25) feels less like a drink and more like central heating. This is a city that hasn’t been polished for visitors; it’s too busy being itself.

Travel Tips

Transportation: St. John’s is a walker’s city—if you can handle the hills. The downtown core from Water Street to the Battery is best explored on foot, where you’ll catch the details you’d miss from a car: the hidden garden behind a fence, the smell of fresh bread from a basement bakery. For anything beyond that, you’ll want wheels. Renting a car is the most flexible option, but be warned: street parking in the old town is a competitive sport, and the one-way systems can feel deliberately confusing. Metrobus public transit exists and a single fare is CAD$2.50 ($1.90), but routes are limited and infrequent, making it impractical for anything but a direct trip downtown. A taxi from the airport to downtown runs about CAD$30-$35 ($22-$26), a fixed rate. Insider move: if you’re only here for a weekend and sticking to the historic centre, skip the rental car hassle and budget for the occasional cab instead.

Money: Canada is a cash-light society, and St. John’s is no different. You can go days without seeing physical money—credit and debit cards (especially tap-to-pay) are accepted absolutely everywhere, from the fanciest restaurant on Water Street to the smallest coffee shop on Duckworth. That said, it’s wise to have a small amount of Canadian cash on hand, maybe CAD$40-60 ($30-$45), for farmers' market stalls, some smaller tour operators, and, most importantly, the tip jars in pubs where local musicians play. A potential pitfall: while cards are universal, some smaller B&Bs or independent tour guides might only accept e-transfers (a Canadian banking app feature) or cash, so it’s worth confirming when you book. The currency exchange at the airport is notoriously poor; you’re almost always better off using a bank ATM in the city or a card with no foreign transaction fees.

Cultural Respect: Newfoundlanders are famously, genuinely welcoming, but there’s an etiquette to it. The pace is slower here. Don’t rush a conversation with a shopkeeper or bartender; a bit of ‘small talk’ about the weather isn’t a prelude to your order, it’s the main event. When someone offers you a ‘screech-in’ ceremony at a pub (involving kissing a codfish), it’s a gesture of inclusion—participate with good humour, even if it seems silly. On the trails, particularly the East Coast Trail, practice strict ‘leave no trace’ principles; this landscape is rugged and beautiful but ecologically fragile. A major point of respect: understand that ‘Newfoundlander’ is a source of immense pride, distinct from simply being ‘Canadian.’ Referring to the island as ‘part of Nova Scotia’ or making ‘Newfie’ jokes (even ones you might think are harmless) is a quick way to shut down a friendly interaction. Listen more than you talk, and you’ll learn far more about the place.

Food Safety: You’re here for the seafood, and you should dive in headfirst. The standards in restaurants and even most food trucks are high. The rule of thumb: if there’s a line of locals, it’s safe. For the quintessential experience, get fish and chips from a dedicated spot like Ches’s or Leo’s, where the fish is likely local and the fryers are dedicated, avoiding cross-contamination for those with allergies. The one cautionary note is with foraged foods or wild game offered by individuals; unless you’re with an experienced local guide, it’s best to admire from afar. For a true taste of local life, hit the St. John’s Farmers' Market on Saturday morning. The jams, baked goods, and prepared foods there are made in regulated, inspected home kitchens—it’s some of the best and safest local fare you’ll find. And don’t shy away from the ‘brews’ (iced tea) or the toutons (fried dough) at a diner; the griddles there have been seasoning for decades.

When to Visit

Planning a trip to St. John’s means making peace with the weather, not trying to beat it. The sweet spot for most visitors is late July through September. August highs average a pleasant 20°C (68°F), the fog tends to lift more often, and the hiking trails are dry(ish) and energetic. This is peak season, so expect hotel rates to be at their highest—a downtown room that goes for CAD$180 ($135) in May might be CAD$280 ($210) in August—and book accommodations at least three months out. September is a local favourite: the summer crowds thin, prices drop about 20%, the sea is still relatively warm (for Newfoundland), and the hills start to turn with autumn colour. It’s also festival season, with the St. John’s International Women’s Film Festival and the Roots, Rants, and Roars culinary event happening. Winter (December-March) is for the committed. It’s dark by 4:30 PM, temperatures hover around -5°C to 0°C (23°F to 32°F), and snowstorms can shut things down for a day. But hotel prices plummet by 50% or more, the pubs are cozy and full of locals, and if you catch a clear night, the Northern Lights can be visible from Signal Hill. Spring (April-June) is a gamble. It’s often still cold, wet, and foggy—‘iceberg season’ brings spectacular views to places like Twillingate, but St. John’s itself might be shrouded in mist for days. The payoff is lower prices and having historic sites like Cape Spear almost to yourself. If you’re on a tight budget or hate crowds, late May or early June might actually be your best bet, but pack for every possible condition.