A Penny for My Thoughts – On a Quest to Discover Quebec’s Three Pines!
By James Ross | Published February 24th, 2026
Photos by James Ross
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My wife and I go on a quest to find the Village of Three Pines.
I was, as they say, on a mission. Not a murder-solving one, sadly, but something even more elusive: I was driving through Quebec’s Eastern Townships looking for Three Pines.
You know the village; cozy fires, suspiciously artistic villagers, the world's kindest homicide inspector - the fictional town where murder rates rival that of the Shetland Islands, Cabot Cove, or a strange English place called Midsomer, but everyone still has time for smoked-salmon omelettes, a cappuccino by the café fireplace, a book club, and obscure poetry.
My wife and I had set off on a road trip from our Ontario home with a full tank of gas, a badly folded map, and a crate of Louise Penny’s books in the back seat. The Plan? Knowing Three Pines was tucked somewhere in the hills of the Eastern Townships, just begging for someone with a poor sense of direction and a love of croissants to find, we would scour the roadways, byways, bike trails and villages looking for the cranky poet Ruth and her “fowl”-mouthed duck Rosa, two of the many loveable characters in Penny’s delightful mysteries. How hard could it be?
We toured the haunted Hadley House that appears in the books - but when I heard a voice whisper "Get Out!" I got out immediately (before realizing it was just my wife.)
“I know Three Pines is somewhere near,” I whispered confidently to my wife as we drove past a “Welcome to the Eastern Townships” sign, as if that narrowed it down to fewer than the dozens of charming villages we would drive through, each with a church steeple, a bistro, a general store, and at least one suspiciously wise-looking German Shepherd. My well-read wife pointed out that Penny never actually put Three Pines on a map, probably to prevent people like us from showing up at a town Poste du la Sûreté to ask if Chief Inspector Gamache was in.
Our visit began in Bromont, which immediately distracted us by being aggressively attractive, with its rolling hills and ski slopes - the kind of tidy beauty that makes you forgive a town for not containing fictional murder scenes. And, since Bromont was our first stop, how were we to know that every village in this region was aggressively attractive?
On E-bikes we cycled the Route des Vins, stopping often to investigate wineries.
After Bromont, we decided the best way to locate an imaginary village was by cycling the Route des Vins de Brome-Missisquoi- Circuit du Patrimoine. Naturally, we chose e-bikes, because nothing says “rugged literary detective work” like a discreet electric boost up a vineyard hill. The Wine Route is a ribbon of quiet country roads, sloping vineyards, and signs that gently suggest you should slow down and taste things. We obediently stopped at wineries along the way - purely investigative of course.
At Le Domaine du Ridge, we put our deductive skills to the test, as we swirled, sniffed, and nodded thoughtfully. At our next stop, Vignoble de l'Ardennais, getting into the spirit, I wisely proclaimed things like “it exhibits the sweet nose of spring flowers and massages the palate with the flavours of chocolate, gooseberries, and leather oxfords.” We weighed our bike panniers down with great finds.
Next to the Old Mill on the Pike River, we enjoyed a wonderful meal at Espace Old Mill.
By late afternoon, our sleuthing (undercover as sommeliers) had rendered us hungry and slightly overconfident on our e-bikes, so we pedaled toward Stanbridge East for dinner at Espace Old Mill and a night at Cecil House. Dinner at the Old Mill felt exactly like a chapter in a Three Pines novel - warm light, thoughtful garden-to-table cuisine, the hum of conversation, and an undercurrent suggesting someone at the next table might have a secret. The food was so exquisite, it almost made us confess to crimes we hadn’t committed.
We stayed the night at the historic Cecil House, which had the cozy elegance of a place where fictional villagers would gather to whisper about clues over morning coffee. I half expected to wake up to Gamache knocking gently on our door, asking if we’d noticed anything unusual about the scones.
The next day, feeling brave (and still slightly buoyed by vineyard optimism), we drove to Au Diable Vert in Glen Sutton to try Vélo Volant, a sort of suspended rail-bike that glides high along the treetops, a vantage that we hoped would help us spy our elusive village. My first clue that things were amiss came when the attendant asked, “Are you afraid of heights?”
At Au Diable Vert we tried Velo Volant, a suspended rail-bike in the treetops.
Up we went, pedaling above the forest canopy, the Eastern Townships rolling out beneath us. It was breathtaking - emphasis on the “breath,” which I had temporarily misplaced. I remembered too late that, in the books, Gamache was afraid of heights! And so, apparently, was this detective want-to-be. My wife calmly peddled ahead, pointing out mountains in the distance and shouting back things like, “Isn’t this peaceful?” Meanwhile, I contemplated my life choices.
One of those choices, after returning to solid earth, was to calm my nerves at another pastoral winery, Vignoble Chateau Sainte-Agnès, perched on a hillside with sweeping views. We are told during a tour that this was where Adele filmed “Easy on Me.” So, of course, immediately after our tasting I headed into the lovely vineyard where, staring dramatically into the distance with my short hair blowing in the breeze, I started singing. It was my wife’s turn to panic.
Where a crime was committed, as I sang a little Adele in the vineyards of the Vignoble Sainte Agnes winery.
“Go Easy on Me, Gamache,” she murmured, while pretending not to know me. A passing couple applauded politely, before scurrying out of the vines.
Sutton, a village so enchanting I thought we had driven into a postcard, went to the top of the list as the strongest Three Pines contender yet. The main street featured art galleries, cafés, bookstores, micro-breweries, and a wonderful fromagerie. We easily lost an entire afternoon exploring, before leaving town with a package of cheeses that would grow more pungent in our vehicle as our road trip continued.
Next, our journey took us to Knowlton, Louise Penny’s hometown, with its historic brick buildings and maple-lined streets. Walking around, it was easy to imagine where Penny might have drawn inspiration - quiet streets, a village green, friendly faces, a church steeple where bells rang, and every park bench had at least one old man reading a newspaper and nodding solemnly to no one.
Brome Lake Books in Knowlton was the inspiration for Myrna's book shop in Three Pines.
“This is where it all began,” my partner said reverently, taking in the charm. “You can almost hear Gamache’s footsteps on the cobblestones.” If there were cobblestones, I thought.
What we did discover was Brome Lake Books, a wonderful independent bookstore that featured the whole collection of the Three Pine mystery series, but no Myrna. Beneath the bookstore was the Three Pine’s Café, owned by the author herself. We dropped in looking for Gabri and Olivier. I ordered lattes, and subtly asked the barista if she had heard of Three Pines. She looked at me like I’d told her Inspector Gamache actually preferred Tim Hortons.
“I think this might be it,” I deduced.
“Is there a duck pond?” my side-kick asked.
There was not. Suspicious
The Manoir Hovey on the shores of Lake Massawippi.was the inspiration for the Manoir Bellechasse in "A Rule Against Murder."
So, we pressed on to the Manoir Hovey on the shores of Lake Massawippi. I had read that Penny and her late husband were married at the little church nearby, overlooking North Hatley, and then had their reception here. Built in 1899 as a private summer home, the manor is now a very charming boutique hotel. The author apparently returns regularly for lunch on the terrace or a massage at the spa – and I had nothing but time, imagining myself accosting Penny while she was wrapped in a towel, and making her divulge the whereabouts of her elusive village. We lunched at the Tap Room. The food was impeccable, the view serene, and for a blissful hour we stopped hunting for imaginary villages and simply admired the very real beauty of the Townships.
We were to finish our quest with a visit to the Abbaye Saint-Benoît-du-Lac, where the monastery rises above the lake in quiet grandeur. The abbey is peaceful in a way that makes you whisper even when you’re outside. We sampled their famous cheese, which I am fairly certain could broker world peace.
Touring the Abbaye Saint-Benoit-du-Lac, the inspiration for Penny's Saint-Gilbert-Entre-les-Loups Abbey.
“If Three Pines exists anywhere,” my wife sighed softly, “it’s in places like this.”
“Sush!” said a suspicious-looking character disguised as a monk.
That’s when it hit me! Three Pines is not a dot on a map or a balloon icon on a GPS. It is the hush of the abbey, the warmth of a vineyard, the charm of Sutton’s streets, the elegance of Manoir Hovey, the thrill of VéloVolant, a café au lait in Knowlton, and the comfort of dinner at Espace Old Mill. Three Pines was built on inspirations taken from settings found throughout the townships.
Three Pines is the Eastern Townships, a charming region full of picturesque villages, wonderful inns, great bike trails and enticing bistros, wineries, breweries and fromageries – an inviting place, friendly and cozy like the setting in Penny’s delightful novels.
Rosa the "fowl"-mouthed duck - found!
The Journey to Three Pines
If you have read the Three Pines’ mystery series, the Eastern Townships may seem like a dangerous place to visit – but fear not - the only crime we came across on our road trip was a certain individual singing Adele into a vineyard breeze. Three Pines may be fictional, but your wonderful Eastern Township memories will be real!
For information and Road Trip Planning, contact Tourism Eastern Townships or Cantons-de-l'Est