When I first dreamed of traveling across Canada from the Pacific to the Atlantic, the idea of surviving on $50 a day sounded absurd.
Friends and fellow travelers warned me that Canada is not cheap – in fact, even “budget” travelers spend around $71 (CA$98) per day on average .
Can it really be done for only $50? I was determined to find out.
Armed with a backpack, a tent, and a head full of optimism, I set off on a cross-country journey.
What followed was an eye-opening adventure through all ten provinces, testing the limits of my budget and proving that with creativity and grit, Canada can be experienced on a budget.
I will share this journey, across British Columbia’s mountains, the Prairies’ open roads, Central Canada’s cities in winter, and the Atlantic’s rugged coasts, all while keeping costs under control.
I’ll highlight practical cost-saving strategies in transportation, food, lodging, and activities, plus example scenarios and real cost breakdowns.
West Coast Summer
I kicked off my trip in Vancouver, British Columbia, on a bright July morning. The Pacific air was fresh, my excitement was high – and so were the city’s prices.
My first reality check came when searching for a bed: the average hostel dorm in downtown Vancouver runs about $40 a night (all prices in USD for consistency), which would gobble most of my $50 daily budget.
To save money, I booked a hostel outside the city center and balanced it by cooking my own meals. Markets and grocery stores became my best friends; each morning I’d pick up bagels, fruit, and coffee for a DIY breakfast under $5.
I quickly learned that eating from local markets or cooking for yourself is key to budget travel in Canada .
Instead of pricey restaurants, I grabbed lunch from food trucks offering Vancouver’s famous sushi rolls and Japadogs for under $10, and treated myself to Canada’s classic cheap eats like a late-night poutine (fries with gravy and cheese curds) for $5 .
By avoiding sit-down restaurants, I easily kept food costs to about $15 per day without ever going hungry.
Getting around Vancouver on the cheap was another challenge. A single transit day-pass cost about $8, which was worth it when I spent a full day sightseeing.
Often, though, I simply walked or biked around the city – many hostels offer bike rentals or there are share bikes for a few dollars an hour.
I joined a free walking tour to learn about Gastown’s history (tipping the guide $5) and spent hours wandering Stanley Park’s seawall, which offered stunning views completely free .
By the end of my first week, I had explored Vancouver’s vibrant neighborhoods, beaches, and parks while spending well under $50 a day on average.
One way I achieved that was by offsetting city expenses with frugal days in nature.
After Vancouver, I headed to Vancouver Island with a $20 ferry ticket. In the island’s smaller towns, costs were lower. I camped near Tofino, falling asleep to Pacific Ocean waves, and in the morning cooked oatmeal over a camp stove.
My campsite in the Pacific Rim National Park cost about $10, but on other nights I camped for free on Crown land and at a few hidden spots recommended by locals.
On a multi-day trek to Cape Scott (the island’s remote north tip), I even slept on the beach for free under the stars.
Camping for free on a remote beach in British Columbia. By relying on a tent instead of hotels, I saved hundreds of dollars across my trip .
British Columbia is dotted with no-fee recreation sites and wild camping spots where a frugal traveler can sleep under million-star skies at no cost .
It’s not just about saving money – camping also meant waking up to scenes like this, which no hotel could ever provide.
Beyond Vancouver Island, mainland BC had even more budget adventures. I hitchhiked part of the way to the Okanagan Valley, famous for wineries and lakes.
Hitchhiking in Canada, especially in rural areas, can be relatively safe and common – I was picked up by a friendly truck driver who was happy to have company for a few hours on the road (and who refused any gas money).
In the Okanagan, I found an orchard that let me camp in their field after I spent the day helping pick cherries – an impromptu work-trade that came with a hearty home-cooked dinner.
My only expenses those days were a few dollars for snacks. This highlights a pattern I found throughout my journey: some days cost more (city sightseeing or big transport jumps), but other days cost almost nothing when I immersed myself in nature or local life.
For instance, one splurge day in Vancouver might total $55 (hostel $35, food $15, transport $5), but then a minimal day camping in the wilderness might be under $20 (groceries $10, park fee $10, and nothing else).
By balancing the two, I averaged under $50 across the trip.
Budget Travel in Alberta, Saskatchewan & Manitoba
Leaving the West Coast, I needed a way to cover the 1,000 km to the Rockies without breaking the bank.
Flights were out of the question (one-way to Calgary was $150+), so I looked into ground options.
Buses and trains are often the most economical way to traverse long distances in Canada .
I found a rideshare through a Facebook group: three of us split gas for a Vancouver-to-Calgary road trip.
My share was about $40 for a full day’s drive through the mountains – slightly high for one day’s budget, but cheaper than any commercial transport.
Plus, we took our time enjoying viewpoints in Banff National Park along the way.
The park entry fee was only around $8 for the day, and once inside, breathtaking sights like Lake Louise and Moraine Lake cost nothing to admire.
Alberta’s majestic Rocky Mountains were a highlight of my trip – and a surprisingly budget-friendly one.
Entrance to national parks like Banff and Jasper is inexpensive, and once inside, hiking and wildlife watching are free .
I skipped the expensive gondola ride up Sulphur Mountain in Banff (which would’ve been $50) and instead hiked the trail to the summit for $0.
It was a tough climb, but the view – and the extra $50 in my pocket – made it worth it.
Each night in the Rockies, I confronted a choice: pay for a hostel in Banff (~$45 for a dorm bed) or camp in the woods. In early autumn the weather was still mild, so I opted to camp.
I found campsites just outside Banff town for $15 per night. One night, I even pitched my tent on crown land in Kananaskis Country (free, though without amenities).
In Jasper, I split a campsite with other backpackers I’d met – four of us chipping in made it just $5 each. Huddled around a campfire cooking canned chili, we swapped stories under a sky full of stars.
Those were the moments I realized a budget journey often feels richer than a luxury one: we were immersed in nature, not staring at screens, and our entertainment was the crackling fire and laughter (all free).
Open road through the Rocky Mountains as I journey east. Canada is often considered expensive, but its natural beauty comes at no charge .
Driving (or even hitchhiking) along routes like Alberta’s Icefields Parkway offered million-dollar views for the price of a little gas and a packed lunch.
On stretches like this, I paid nothing to be awed – a good reminder that some of the best travel experiences aren’t for sale.
By late September, I crossed into Saskatchewan, where golden prairies stretched to the horizon. The change in scenery was striking – and so were the lower prices.
In Saskatoon (Saskatchewan’s largest city), I found that even a simple budget motel was $60, still above my daily limit.
So I tried Couchsurfing, reaching out to a local host and securing two nights free on a friendly couple’s couch.
Not only did I save money, I got a home-cooked Ukrainian-Canadian dinner (Saskatchewan has a large Ukrainian community) and a personal tour of the city.
My hosts showed me the farmer’s market and introduced me to perogies – all experiences I wouldn’t find in a guidebook.
Couchsurfing or staying with locals isn’t just a cost-saving strategy ; it’s also a way to connect with Canadian hospitality and culture on a deeper level.
Traveling across the vast Prairie provinces in autumn, I encountered long, lonely roads and big open skies. Instead of flying over this region, going slowly at ground level gave me a new appreciation for Canada’s scale.
I took a Greyhound-style bus from Saskatoon to Winnipeg, Manitoba (an overnight ride that cost about $90).
The bus wasn’t glamorous – think packed seats and a lot of stops – but it was the cheapest way to cover that distance.
To save money, I traveled overnight, which doubled as accommodation for the night. (Sleeping upright on a bus isn’t the best rest, but it did save me paying for a hostel!) For shorter hops between prairie towns, I sometimes used local public transportation or informal ride boards .
In one instance, I joined a group of university students driving from Regina to Winnipeg; pitching in $15 for gas not only got me a ride but also some new friends and a crash course in Canadian indie music during the drive.
In Manitoba, the fall air was crisp and the foliage turned yellow and orange. Winnipeg greeted me with an early October chill and warm smiles.
I arrived during the week and discovered a pro budget tip: many museums have free or pay-what-you-can days.
I visited the Winnipeg Art Gallery on a Tuesday night when donation-based entry was offered – I dropped $5 into the box (within my budget) to see their collection.
The city’s historic meeting spot, The Forks, was free to wander ; I spent an afternoon there watching skateboarders and strolling along the riverfront. Winnipeg is also known for its diverse food scene at reasonable prices.
I tried a hearty bowl of borscht at a local diner for $4 and grabbed fresh bread and cheese from a market for cheap breakfasts.
By avoiding upscale eateries and sticking to local joints and markets, I rarely spent more than $20 a day on food even when sampling the regional specialties.
One of my favorite Manitoba memories was an outdoor day trip to Riding Mountain National Park.
A fellow traveler I’d met had a car, and we split the gasoline for a day out hiking (my share was $10).
The park’s entry fee was under $10, and we spent the whole day hiking forest trails and spotting bison in the wild.
It was a full day of entertainment for about $20 total (including the picnic groceries we brought along).
The prairies taught me that inexpensive days are easy when you embrace the outdoors – a lesson that would serve me well in every province.
Ontario and Quebec on a Budget
By the time I reached Ontario, winter had set in. I arrived in Toronto in late October, just as the first flurries of snow dusted the city streets.
Traveling in the off-season (late fall and winter) turned out to be a double-edged sword.
On one hand, accommodations were cheaper – my hostel in Toronto was $30 in November, whereas it might be $45+ in summer.
On the other hand, camping was no longer a viable option (I’m adventurous, but not enough to camp in –10°C!). So I had to adjust my strategy: more nights in hostels or cheap guesthouses, offset by other savings.
Fortunately, big cities offer plenty of free indoor activities and off-season discounts.
For example, many Toronto attractions have free hours or days. I toured the Art Gallery of Ontario on a Wednesday evening when it’s gratis, and I went up to the observation deck of the CN Tower only virtually – meaning, I skipped the $40 elevator ride and instead watched a free documentary at the hostel about its construction.
It wasn’t quite the same as the view up top, but hey, I saved $40.
Toronto’s public transit is efficient, and I bought a week pass (~$30) to get around.
Spreading that cost over 7 days made it affordable, and I used the metro and streetcars daily to explore neighborhoods from Chinatown to the Beaches.
In each area, I sought out cheap eats: in Kensington Market, I found Jamaican patties for $3; in a Polish neighborhood on Roncesvalles, I devoured a massive cabbage roll for under $5.
The ethnic diversity of Toronto meant I could “eat around the world” on a budget. I also made sure to take advantage of the city’s free events.
In December, Toronto hosts outdoor holiday markets and free concerts at Nathan Phillips Square.
I spent one magical evening watching a free light show projected on City Hall and skating on the public ice rink there. (Skate rentals were $10, but I befriended a local who lent me a pair for free – another win for human kindness over money.)
From Toronto, I continued eastward by catching a Megabus to Montreal for $25 (booked a month in advance for a deal).
The snowy Quebec landscape welcomed me just before Christmas. Montreal in winter can be freezing, but Montrealers embrace the season with festivals and joie de vivre.
I quickly learned that winter travel has its unique budget perks: some experiences that cost money in summer become free in winter.
For example, Montreal’s en Lumière winter festival was on in February, featuring outdoor light installations and performances – most of it completely open to the public at no cost.
Similarly, in Ottawa (which I visited as a side trip), the famous Winterlude festival is a free extravaganza of ice sculptures, snow slides, and skating on the frozen Rideau Canal .
I timed my visit to coincide with Winterlude and was treated to the sight of giant carved ice dragons and a stroll down the naturally frozen canal (the world’s largest skating rink) – all for free.
The only cost was the Beavertail pastry (fried dough delight) I couldn’t resist buying from a vendor for $6, a small indulgence.
Montreal itself was a highlight of my entire journey. Despite the frigid January temperatures, the city was alive with culture and, happily for me, much of it was low-cost.
I stayed in a cosy hostel in the Plateau neighborhood for about $25/night (off-season rates).
To save on food, I shopped at local groceries – picking up fresh bagels from the famous St-Viateur Bakery (mere cents each), and cooking pasta at the hostel.
When I dined out, I chose cheap eats like poutine or visited student-frequented cafes offering filling daily soup specials for under $5.
Montreal’s nightlife can be expensive, but I found an alternative: one evening, I joined a bar le goûter (happy hour) event listed on Meetup.com where locals and travelers gathered at a pub with discounted drinks.
I nursed a pint that cost $4 – an acceptable treat within my budget – and enjoyed an evening of conversation, which was far more enriching than an overpriced nightclub.
A major cost in traveling across Central Canada is getting from city to city, especially in winter when hitchhiking is less feasible (for safety and comfort).
After Quebec, I still needed to reach the Atlantic coast. The distance from Montreal to Halifax is over 1,200 km. I researched and realized a direct VIA Rail train, the Ocean, runs this route.
It wasn’t exactly cheap – even in economy class it was about $100 – but I weighed my options.
A flight would be at least $150 even on sale; the train at least gave me a night’s accommodation (the seat) and a scenic ride.
To save money, I booked during a promotion and used a youth/ISIC card discount, bringing the fare down to around $80.
It was still a splurge, but I prepared by eating beforehand and bringing my own snacks so I wouldn’t have to buy the pricey onboard meals.
Watching the snowy forests of New Brunswick glide by from the train window, I felt that blend of excitement and frugality that defined my trip: I was on my way to the final leg of my cross-country odyssey, wallet not empty yet!
Springtime on the Atlantic Coast
I arrived in Halifax, Nova Scotia just as spring was beginning to tease its arrival in the Maritimes.
After the hustle of big cities, Halifax felt refreshingly relaxed – and I immediately noticed that prices were gentler here.
Groceries, for instance, cost a bit less than in Toronto , and I scored a dorm bed in a guesthouse for $20, thanks to it being April (still off-peak for tourism). Halifax is a perfect city for wandering on foot.
I spent a day walking along the waterfront boardwalk, enjoying the salty Atlantic breeze and watching ships come and go – none of which cost a dime.
History is everywhere in Halifax, so I took a free self-guided tour of the Citadel Hill (I didn’t go inside the museum, which has an entry fee, but I walked the grounds and read the informational plaques for free).
Later, I treated myself to a hot bowl of seafood chowder from a farmer’s market stall for $7 – not free, but a good deal for a delicious meal that doubled as lunch and warm comfort.
Nova Scotia’s natural and cultural sights offer plenty for budget travelers. I took a local bus out to Peggy’s Cove, the iconic fishing village with a lighthouse, for only a few dollars (the bus was a rural route subsidized by the province).
The timing was perfect – arriving in the late afternoon, I caught the golden light on the waves and nearly had the famous lighthouse to myself.
I didn’t have to spend anything there except perhaps a coffee from a tiny café to warm up.
The rocky shoreline and crashing ocean were the star attraction, freely available to anyone willing to make the trip.
In the summer, tour buses would be crowding the parking lot, but in spring’s shoulder season, it was quiet and magical.
The lighthouse at Peggy’s Cove, Nova Scotia, on a brisk early-spring day. Visiting such an iconic site was completely free – there’s no ticket needed to wander around the rocks and enjoy the view.
In Atlantic Canada I found that many of the best experiences, like walking along a windswept coastline or exploring quaint fishing villages, didn’t require opening my wallet .
I often picked up fresh local seafood from markets (affordable in this region ) and had picnic lunches with million-dollar views like this.
Continuing my journey, I used a combination of buses and rideshares to visit New Brunswick and Prince Edward Island.
In New Brunswick, I had a chance to witness the incredible tides of the Bay of Fundy.
Rather than pay for an expensive guided tour of Hopewell Rocks, I did it DIY: I took a regional bus to the nearest town (Moncton) for $15, then teamed up with two other travelers at my hostel to split the cost of a rental car for a day.
My share was $20, and we timed our visit to see the high tide and low tide in the same day.
The provincial park entry fee to Hopewell Rocks was about $10, but seeing the flowerpot rocks and walking on the ocean floor at low tide? Priceless.
We even packed our own lunches and had a picnic by the visitor center, avoiding the tourist cafe.
After New Brunswick, I headed over the Confederation Bridge to PEI (Prince Edward Island).
The bridge toll was $50 per car, which sounded steep – until I managed to hitch a ride with a local family heading that way, costing me nothing. (PEI is the kind of place where folks are friendly and picking up hitchhikers is not too uncommon, especially if you’re near the bridge asking politely for a lift.)
On PEI, I camped one night at a coastal campground that was officially closed for the season – but I had called ahead and the owner allowed me to pitch my tent for $10 with basic facilities.
The island’s tranquility in spring was gorgeous. I bicycled along country roads flanked by red-soiled farms (the bike was a loaner from a hostel in Charlottetown) and spent an afternoon reading on a deserted beach.
My biggest expense on PEI was an admittedly indulgent one: I couldn’t leave without trying a lobster supper.
I found a church fundraiser offering a simple lobster dinner for $20 – a splurge, but far cheaper than a restaurant, and the proceeds went to the community. It was the tastiest $20 I spent in Canada.
At last, I set my sights on Newfoundland & Labrador, the easternmost province and a fitting end to my coast-to-coast quest.
Newfoundland isn’t the easiest place to get to on a tight budget – there’s no cheap bus or train from the mainland.
The options are a long ferry or a flight. I was running low on funds by this point, but I was determined to include Newfoundland.
I managed to snag a standby spot on the ferry from North Sydney, Nova Scotia to Port aux Basques, Newfoundland.
By asking around the docks, I found a trucker who was willing to take me in his vehicle (drivers can often bring a passenger) in exchange for $40 and some company during the 7-hour crossing.
This saved me from paying the full passenger fare and an overnight cabin. I slept in the truck cab and woke up to the rugged silhouettes of Newfoundland’s coast at dawn.
Setting foot in Newfoundland felt victorious – I had made it from the Pacific to the Atlantic on my humble budget.
I spent the last week of my journey exploring a bit of Newfoundland’s west coast.
Money was extremely tight now, but Newfoundland rewarded me with its generosity.
In the small town of Corner Brook, I was taken in by a family running a B&B when they heard I’d been hitchhiking. They were in their off-season and had empty rooms, so they let me stay for free for two nights on the condition I share stories of my travels each evening.
We traded tales over cups of tea and Newfoundland screech (rum). Such kindness exemplified the spirit of the Atlantic provinces.
For my final adventure, I hitchhiked to Gros Morne National Park, where I hiked amid fjords and snow-capped mountains.
I camped one last time in the park (it was cold but I had a good sleeping bag and there were no camping fees in the shoulder season).
Eating the last of my canned food and trail mix, I reflected on how far I’d come – in distance, in experiences, and in learning how to make every dollar count.
Conclusion
After traversing over 7,000 kilometers, through mountains, prairies, cities, and coasts, I can confidently say: Yes, it is possible to travel Canada on $50 a day – but it requires determination, flexibility, and a willingness to sacrifice comfort at times.
I often had to get creative to stick to my budget, whether by camping in the rain, eating the same pasta for dinner three nights in a row, or choosing a 12-hour bus ride over a 2-hour flight.
But in return, I gained a far more intimate and authentic experience of Canada than money could buy.
The journey wasn’t just about proving a point financially; it became a lesson in minimalism, human connection, and appreciating nature.
I learned that Canada’s greatest riches – its landscapes and hospitality – are available even to the tightest of budgets.