Immersed in a tub of steaming hot water, we lean back and relax our aching muscles. After several hours of surfing in the pounding waves at Long Beach, BC on Canada’s west coast, we are tired and sore, but oh-so-content.

It wouldn’t be a summer holiday in Canada without water—whether for surfing, swimming, canoeing, kayaking, sailing, water skiing or just plain soaking in. Water is fundamental to the Canadian experience.

So that’s why we’re surprised when two young Swiss women, who are also immersed up to their necks, comment on what a luxury this is. In Switzerland, they tell us, bathing outdoors in a hot pool would be a high-end experience, something you pay big bucks for. And here we are in a lovely forested campground near Ucluelet, BC, paying just $30 night. There’s also a sauna where we’ll steam once we’ve finished soaking.

But first, I decide to let the women in on another quintessentially Canadian experience: a campfire. “Have you picked up some firewood for a fire tonight?” I ask. They shake their heads; they’d never made a campfire. My 14-year-old daughter is amazed. A summer without a campfire is like a hot dog without the mustard or s’mores without the chocolate.

Wait a minute, these women have probably not had the simple pleasure of eating a hot dog that was roasted over a fire, or biting into a s’more—that gooey, sweet sandwich of roasted marshmallow and chocolate squeezed between graham wafer crackers. (S’more is the short form of “some more” because once you’ve eaten one, you’ll want s’more!)

That’s when I begin to fully appreciate the bounty that Canadians enjoy, even take for granted. No matter where you live in this vast country, water and fire are readily available companions. In fact, our summer ritual of leaving the city and going to the cottage or cabin or going camping always involves water—in one form or another—and usually fire, too.

We come by our passion for water honestly enough. It’s been bred in our bones, beginning with the early explorers and fur traders. By canoe, and with their Aboriginal guides, they navigated our rivers and lakes, some of the longest and biggest in the world. Other explorers meticulously mapped our jagged coastlines bordering the Atlantic, Pacific and Arctic oceans.

It’s no stretch to say that Canada was founded on water and is still surrounded by it. Water is encoded in our brains; it nourishes our imagination; it’s part of our national psyche. It even unites us. Canada has many regions, each with its own character, but water is the common element.

Ask a Canadian, “Where’s your cottage?” or “Where’s your favourite swimming hole?” and you’ll get an answer, and probably a loving description to go with it, though you may not get the exact directions—some things are secret.

We love playing with fire just as much as we love playing in and around water. As Boy Scouts and Girl Guides, we learned how to build a fire to keep us warm, to cook on, to sing around, to read by and to share stories over. As adults, we keep building fires—building our family and friendships at the same time.

Later that evening, my husband, daughter and I are toasting marshmallows over the glowing embers and laughing about the day’s surfing adventure when we remember the Swiss women. We wonder what they’re up to. It’s dark now and without a fire, it wouldn’t be much fun outside. We decide to invite them to share ours.

With flashlights showing the way, Alanna and I head down the path to their campsite, a walk-in site tucked deep in the woods. Their tent is dark and quiet, yet it seems too early for anyone to be sleeping.

“Hello” I call out. “It’s the Canadians you met in the hot tub. We’re wondering if you would like to share our campfire?”

“Oh, that sounds wonderful,” comes their surprised reply. “But we’re already in our sleeping bags,” they laugh.

“OK. Another time,” I say.

We wish them sweet dreams and return to our campfire. We check to see if our bathing suits are dry for tomorrow and toast some more ‘mallows. It’s not too late for another s’more, and maybe a story from my husband about growing up on Great Slave Lake, NWT and how the water never really warmed up, even in the summertime, but you swam ‘til your lips were blue. At night, you’d have a fire and tell bear stories and eat s’mores until you couldn’t fit another one in.