THE SYLVIA WAS born in 1912 and looks exactly like a near-century old North American hotel should look. It’s got the jittery elevator and a front desk manager who refers to himself as “moi.”

Virginia Creeper covers the outer walls, evoking in guests a sense that they lived there once long ago. (It has been the steadfast backdrop for Lois Simmie’s Mr. Got To Go books about a stray cat who moves in permanently. Appropriately, dogs are welcomed with treats upon check-in.)

As you approach from Davie St., the angst of inner Vancouver melts away. There is a custom of sitting on the thick logs out front, with coffee and a $6, 18-piece plate of fresh sushi, then entering Stanley Park alongside the slow throng of walkers who all look like Terry David Mulligan.

Go to the Sylvia as the seasons change—to drink dark whisky and gaze out the windows of the recently renovated restaurant as the intense pumpkin glow of sunset falls on English Bay. Despite the aging clientele, creaky as the building itself, the Sylvia seems to hum the Van Morrison line about never growing so old again.

Room rates start at $80.

sylviahotel.com