The Heartbeat of Winnipeg: Living Life in the Village

By Donovan Martin Sr, Editor in Chief,

There’s a reason why so many Winnipeggers talk about Osborne with a kind of nostalgic reverence. Whether you grew up sneaking into the Zoo on a fake ID or catching a midnight cab to Die Maschine, the area has always carried a kind of underground magic. Even now, long after the old clubs have vanished, that spirit hasn’t left—it’s simply evolved. You still feel it on summer nights, strolling under the canopy of trees, the sound of live music humming from patios, and laughter drifting through the air like incense.

Osborne is the kind of place where people don’t just live—they settle in. They find their rhythm here. It’s not quite downtown, but it’s not trying to be. It has its own gravity. You’re close to everything, yet you never feel swallowed by the noise. In this stretch of the city, you get the best of both worlds: pace when you need it, peace when you want it.

When I started apartment hunting last year, I already knew this was the area I wanted. Like so many others, I had visions of charm—hardwood floors, six-inch baseboards, vintage tiling, clawfoot tubs, skyline views. And yes, many buildings still offer all of that. But what I didn’t expect was just how outdated many of the interiors actually were. Online photos painted a dreamy picture. In person, I stepped into what felt like museum exhibits from the 60s—complete with shag carpeting, brittle cabinetry, and the kind of lighting that made you feel like you were in a Cold War interrogation room.

Some of the larger apartment towers that circle the village promised prestige and proximity. But once inside, they were surprisingly tired—tiny kitchens, dismal layouts, and appliances that should’ve been retired during the Reagan administration. All at premium rent.

Then there’s the notorious parking situation. One landlord casually told me the waitlist for a single outdoor spot was over a year. Indoor? He couldn’t even give me a date. “It’s indefinite,” he said, as if that clarified anything. I asked about pet-friendliness, and half the time, it was a flat-out no. The other half? Conditional on pet size, breed, paperwork, additional deposits, and (I swear) a photo of your animal. I had better luck booking a passport renewal appointment.

But despite all the frustrations, something kept me searching. There’s just something about the Village that makes the effort feel worth it. You don’t need a destination here—you just walk. On weekends, the neighborhood becomes a pulse point for the whole city. Patios are packed, local buskers set up shop on corners, and people spill out of independent shops with books, vinyl, and coffee in hand. You’re never more than a few minutes from something delightful—especially if you take in a show at the Gas Station Theatre, where the performances are just as eclectic as the crowds who attend.

Yes, the old legends like Die Maschine and the Zoo have been replaced, but new bars, restaurants, and venues have stepped in to fill the void. And maybe it’s not as wild as it once was, but there’s a maturity to the new energy. People are still out late, but now they’re sipping craft cocktails or digging into ramen bowls rather than pounding Red Bulls and rushing a dance floor. And yet, that raw, unscripted vibe still lingers.

More importantly, the area is convenient in a way few other neighborhoods can match. Multiple grocery stores? Check. Liquor Mart? Right there. Bus routes in every direction? Absolutely. It’s one of the rare places where you could easily live without a car and not feel like you’re missing out.

One of the things that struck me most during my search was how wildly different the experience could be from one building to the next. I saw dozens of apartments—some decent, some dreadful. But when I came across those managed by Sussex, everything changed. The difference was immediate. The apartments were spotless, updated, and felt cared for. The caretaker greeted me like a neighbor, not a stranger. The front office staff were kind, responsive, and—most importantly—accommodating. Every question I had, they answered. Every small concern was met with understanding.

For anyone who’s rented before, you know that kind of professionalism isn’t common. And if you’re a first-time renter, or someone getting back into renting after years of home ownership, it can make all the difference. Renting can be intimidating—especially when you hear the horror stories. But that wasn’t my experience at all. In my case, it was the opposite. Sussex made it easy.

I remember leaving one of their buildings thinking, this is how it should feel. Clean halls, well-maintained suites, and staff who genuinely seemed to care about their tenants. It wasn’t just about the building—it was about the experience. And that’s rare. Especially in a city where so many management companies treat renters like numbers on a spreadsheet.

When people ask me what it’s like living in the Village, I tell them it’s about balance. It’s about having a community that’s alive, creative, and accessible—but also grounded. And finding a good place to rent here can feel like finding a needle in a haystack. But when you do, it transforms your whole experience. Because where you live shapes how you live.

In my search, I found that the apartments managed by Sussex consistently stood out. Not just because they looked good, but because they felt right. They got it. They understood that renting isn’t just about space—it’s about comfort, trust, and quality. And that’s something that makes life in this neighborhood all the more enjoyable.

Sometimes, all it takes is finding a place that feels right. The Village has plenty of places to live, but not all are equal. If you’re looking for something that combines convenience, charm, and a sense of belonging, take your time—and look carefully. From my experience, Sussex properties are a cut above. They represent what this neighborhood is all about: community, care, and quality.

And when you finally settle in—step outside, take a walk, feel the breeze off the river, listen to the city hum beneath the trees—you’ll understand why so many of us call this place home. The Village isn’t just where you live. It’s where life feels like it’s actually happening.