Alberta Review: Alberta Island
A trip draws out the similarities between Alberta living and island life
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The best vacations always end with the same statement: “I could live here.” Those are the visits that combine relaxation and exploration, and where the “vibe” of the place resonates in just the right way. Some people appreciate the laid-back lifestyle, others the food, the culture, or, more often than not, just the backdrop.
Even an afternoon trip to Canmore makes you ask it. Visiting the mountains always has a profound effect, especially so for Albertans, and it’s so damn pretty, and everyone seems just so relaxed, you have to ask: who doesn’t want that life? I sure do. So many of us work remotely now, anyway. I could convince my boss…
For me, anyway, it is a combination of the backdrop and the food that will prompt the question wherever I travel. That’s why the mountains feature so prominently in any dream house of mine. I never had that desire when visiting Europe like so many others. I may love the historic streets, great food, and, for a vacation at least, the slow pace of life and disregard for being busy. That latter piece is why I know I could never live there—a North American work ethic just doesn’t jive with Europe’s eight weeks of vacation attitude.
There’s a special place in my soul for an island, though. I’m sure this says more about me than it says about geography; being isolated and confined to a particular geographical area appeals to me. Hence why I’m pining for a new locale right now, as my wife and I just returned from Oahu.
The backdrop there is unparalleled. For those who have had the good fortune to visit, that is unarguable, while for those who haven’t, one photo says it all:
But despite that beauty, the sense of being on an island exerts a strong pull all by itself. Most will say I’m a bit of a contrarian, and maybe that’s why islands are appealing—they stand, as Adam Nicolson wrote, in geographical and natural opposition to something (the mainland), “thriving on nothing more than its distance and difference from the mainland to which it is opposed.”
I think, too, they fascinate because they are small but powerful, due to their geography. For a place like Hawaii, that geographical power is obvious. It is a deepwater port in the middle of the Pacific, from which sea power can be projected throughout Asia and the Americas, even to the Middle East and Africa, as the United States Navy has shown. Everybody loves the underdog story, and islands with influence are the geopolitical version of that. For some islands, though, the proximity between states and power centres makes them victims, as much as it affords them power, as they are often fought over as geostrategically important for war and politics.
There’s also an appeal for those of us who desire completeness. Most islands are relatively small, so you feel like you can visit the place in its entirety relatively easily, see everything, and experience it all. It would take decades to explore all of Canada, and even Alberta is slightly larger than France. It’s hard to be a stranger in your own home when it’s an island only 71 km long, like Oahu.
That also contributes to a sense of isolation, which, to some at least, brings comfort, a type of coziness similar to but also different from the Scandinavian concept of hygge. Isolation, of course, also means security. The mountains of Alberta provide us with a protective barrier; by definition, islands cannot exist without a barrier that protects its inhabitants. “Living on an island gives you a defined border; lines on a map are arbitrary, beaches and cliffs are not.” One can say the same about mountains.
And I think that is the core reason why an island can be appealing to an Albertan, and why maybe I’m not so weird for being drawn to both the bald-assed prairie and the tropical island paradise. Albertans are isolated, protected by the vastness of the prairies to the east, the boreal forest of the north, and the mountains of the west. In our own way, we’re like an island, protected and isolated physically and, often to our consternation, politically, from those around us. Being an Albertan, at least sometimes, is like being covered by a warm blanket.
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