IN the heart of the whitewater: a story of sips, stars & Stillness

A local adventure from vine to table, and a deep exhale into presence

There are places you visit and then there are places you feel.

Whitewater Region?
You feel it.

You feel it in the winding road into Westmeath, where farmland meets river energy and the air smells like it’s still holding hands with the trees. You feel it in the soft roll of the hills, in the silence that isn’t empty but rich. The kind of silence that makes you notice.

This story starts at O’Brien Winery, and ends belly-full and spirit-fed in the warm and enchanting arms of the Whitewater Inn in Beachburg. But really, the experience is less about beginning and end and more about the space between things. The pause. The slow. The beauty in letting yourself be held by place and pace.

First, the winery

Let me be clear: O’Brien’s doesn’t need gimmicks. It is the experience.

From the moment I stepped out onto their land, I felt something grounded and generous humming through it. It’s small and mighty an unpretentious space where the wine is crafted with devotion and the terroir tells you a story before you even sip.

I learned about “cold-hardy” grapes varieties strong enough to thrive in the chill of the Ottawa Valley. Grapes that don’t just survive the cold... they grow into it. Resilient. Wild. Still sweet. (Honestly? Same.)

Each wine we tasted reflected that character.
The rosé? Bright and sassy the kind of glass that makes you want to start a picnic on the spot.
The white? Smooth and honest, like a friend who tells you what you need to hear but does it with warmth.
And the reds? Complex, a little brooding, but still inviting.

Every bottle carries its own personality, its own rhythm. And every pour was accompanied by storytelling not just facts about fermentation, but why they chose the blend, how the harvest went, what makes this soil different.

This isn’t just wine tasting. It’s a moment of reverence. A reminder that care leaves a taste behind.

Then, the dinner

We made our way to Whitewater Inn, and walking in felt like stepping into a spell.

The dining room was candlelit and timeless. Think: soft jazz playing low, fresh herbs in tiny vases, polished glassware catching the gold of the setting sun. Every detail felt considered the kind of attention that says: we care that you’re here.

And then… the six-course dinner.

It was more than food. It was theatre. Ceremony. A conversation between plate and palette, between the kitchen and the vineyard.

The courses were thoughtful and intentional. Local ingredients shone like main characters.
Crispy, delicate squash blossoms. Tender duck confit melting into wild mushroom jus. A dessert that whispered lavender as it touched your tongue.

Each course came paired with O’Brien wines that didn’t just match they enhanced. The sommelier and chef worked in harmony like artists mid-performance. And they shared with us their voice, their choices, their stories. It didn’t feel like dining. It felt like we were part of something.

Strangers at the table became kin. By course four, we were deep in laughter. No one checked their phones. Every clink of the glass became a kind of blessing.

But it didn’t end there…

After dinner, I slipped outside under the stars and into the outdoor sauna cedar-lined, heat-kissed, and tucked just far enough from the inn to feel like you’ve wandered into your own private ritual. The kind of heat that pulls tension out of your bones and invites you back to your breath.

Then the hot tub, bubbling under the night sky, where moonlight reflected in the water and my body softened even more. I was quiet. Not from exhaustion, but from reverence. Because there is something sacred about giving yourself this level of care.

This wasn’t just a meal. This wasn’t just a night away.
This was a remembering.

The deeper magic

What I want you to know is this:

In a world that’s obsessed with speed and visibility and “what’s next,” there is deep power in experiences like this.
In pouring slowly.
In asking about grapes.
In putting your fork down between bites.
In listening to stories over dinner instead of doomscrolling through timelines.
In letting yourself be cared for in small, exquisite ways.

Whitewater is a region full of wild beauty unapologetic rivers, fierce weather, strong vines. But it also holds these intimate pockets of pause.

Of presence.
Of people who want to create something meaningful, not just “nice.”

Come experience it for yourself

Whether you’re looking to celebrate a special moment or just reconnect with yourself, I can’t recommend this pairing enough:
O’Brien Winery + Whitewater Inn = a full-body yes.

Book a private dinner or wine tasting!

Tell them Ro sent you. Bring someone you love. Or bring no one at all and let the region romance you. Either way, come hungry for food, yes, but also for slowness, beauty, and a different kind of fullness.