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“Have you ever heard of Merrickville?” I asked my partner as I scoured Airbnb. We were planning a trip to Mont-Tremblant, Que., and looking to break up the drive when I stumbled upon Ontario’s quaintest town, situated on the Rideau Canal and about four hours from Toronto. For any “Gilmore Girls” fans out there, it’s our own Stars Hollow — the sort of place where you’d say hi to every stranger you walk by.

Located on the traditional territory of the Algonquin people, the Victorian village takes its name from William Merrick Sr. A settler from Springfield, Mass., he first set foot in the area in 1793, after receiving a land grant of 200 acres. Merrick saw the power of the water, constructed a dam and built grist, saw and carding mills, affording the town the name Merrick’s Mills.

Today, the outer bones of an old woollen mill still sits by the riverside, just one of Merrickville’s more than 100 heritage properties. About 3,000 people now live in the village and the surrounding rural township of Wolford.

The architecture transports you to a bygone era. At the centre of the town sits the majestic Goose & Gridiron, a circa-1856 establishment affectionately nicknamed “the Goose,” and on the corner down the road is the Baldachin Inn, whose 1860-built premises once housed the largest department store between Chicago and Montreal.

It’s a cosy town, but you could easily saunter around for the whole day or weekend, popping into all the little shops selling everything from artisanal wares to vintage goods.

At the top of the road is a gallery called Gray Art Glass, where we found gold-flaked whiskey glasses, brightly swirled wine glasses, bulbous decanters and “witch balls,” thought to fend off bad spirits and invite harmony into the home. From the viewing window inside the shop, you can even watch glass-blowers mould their work.

Other discoveries we made while following our whims included the Merrickville Book Emporium, tucked down a side street behind an old-timey street lamp. It holds an impressive collection of historical fiction and nonfiction books that might otherwise be covered in dust, given their age and rarity.

Like any good millennial, we have a budding record collection, and Vinyl Destination on the main drag is the place to stock up. When we stumbled across the shop, I asked the owner if he had any records by the Fruit Bats, a joyful indie band from the ’90s whose albums are elusive.

He said no, but as I was fingerpicking through other records, he quietly combed the internet to find where I could buy one — then pulled out his guitar and improvised the chords of my favourite Fruit Bats song, “When U Love Somebody,” as I shyly sang along. It was one of those genuine human interactions that make travelling memorable.

As we ambled down the main street, a sign for Pickle and Myrrh pointed arrows in opposite directions: caramel or no caramel. We were happy to oblige and discovered their decadent caramel flavours, like waffle cone, pretzel and cupcake. We grabbed a bag of the gingerbread-flavoured soft candy, intending it as a souvenir for family, but it vanished within hours.

Up the road from the caramel shop on a residential street, we found another family-owned gem: Whistlepost Antiques & Nostalgia. The owner, William Kenny — the eldest of nine, who grew up on a farm nearby — opened the shop with his late wife, Pamela Bolton, 19 years ago. The store is a testament to finds from the many road trips they took: old medicine bottles, miniature trucks, wrought-iron coffee grinders, matching china sets and large antiques framing the front door.

One of our last strolls in town took us through a shopping corridor. On one end was a bustling café called the Yellow Canoe, and on the other was a homemade-candle store called Wick Witch Apothecary, a bit witchy-kitschy, just like the town.

Towards the end was MonSky Creations Gallery, featuring ceramic art, fused glass and other one-of-a-kind works by Monica Viola. While Monica crafts at the home studio, her husband, Gary Viola, manages the shop. Word has it, he told us, that Merrickville has the second highest number of artists per capita in Ontario, and that 85 per cent of the businesses in town are women-owned. Many of the rest, he said, are partner duos.

Later, after my trip, when I speak with Nick Previsich, president of the Merrickville Artists’ Guild, he confirms that Merrickville has long had an “arts and crafts orientation,” starting with an influx of artists in the ’60s and ’70s. One of the oldest businesses in the village is also the oldest foundry in Canada: the Alloy Foundry, established circa 1840, which hugs the Rideau Canal.

Just as the sun was setting, we ventured over the bridge that straddles the Canal. The water looked like it was going to bed as well, calm and still.

Days later, on our way back to Toronto from Mont-Tremblant, we were starved for food. “Should we … go back to Merrickville? We didn’t try that pizza place everyone recommended,” I said, recalling one of the top-rated restaurants in town, Iron Forge Pizza. Though initially skeptical, we went an hour out of our way on the drive home, and found hands down the best pizza we’ve ever tried anywhere — even Toronto.

The crust was “heirloom sourdough,” with fresh San Marzano tomato purée for the base, generous toppings, and menu options like “Beast Mode” and “Italian Baller.” It’s honestly worth going to Merrickville just for this pizza. We were also thankful to take orders from a Google review, which insisted, “Make sure you try the garlic knots.” They arrived gently browned, chewy and liberally seasoned.

If you want understated decadence — be it in the form of pizza, caramel or historic architecture — Merrickville is the place to wander. But as a local half-joked to me: Just don’t go there all at once.

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