On the Intimately Remote
The ghostly Coast Mountains and serene islands straddling Atlin Lake, the base of a makeshift ice rink. February 28, 2024.
Here I am contemplating the next great vacation, a jaunt on some foreign land for an extended period of introspection via exploration. A quest to fill a lacuna in self-identity, not confirmed but understood, like the mechanisms behind forces of nature.
The break will have to be a long one. Three to four weeks. Leisure is an illusion; to delay the end of its fleeting nature one of the simple joys of a secure profession. The time is also as necessary as it is limited – parts unknown only discoverable when repeatedly sought, Rooms of Requirement hidden away in alleyways far from tourist meccas.
Fall seems like a good option, all factors considered. Perhaps a trip south of the equator to Chile, where herds of horses hurtle across lands as sacred to astronomers as they are to widows of crushed rebellions. Santiago to the Atacama to the Patagonian outlands. Tempting. But what about one of the Asian Tigers? South Korea, wrestling with deep binaries – cultural differences between men and women, young and old, urban and rural, or rich and poor, while traditional religions flourish amid heightened modernity – a microcosm of globalized struggles. Wait, I have it, Iceland! An isolated reprieve; a romantic outpost. Who could argue with its chilling volcanic landscapes or gorgeous vistas overlooking stellar phenomena?
I am also trying to find companions for the journey. Aside from not being alone with my thoughts for too long, I prefer the benefits (and can tolerate the drawbacks) of travelling in a (small) group. Conversing through novel experiences can enrich them greatly, personal thoughts and assumptions not always the best guides towards, or filters of, wisdom. We all need bouncing boards for our learning and amusement. Finding a group with a small circle is also tough; coordinating leaves and scheduling excursions a terrible foundation of administrative turmoil on which to launch collective adventures.
No matter where I end up travelling, it strikes me that I am always here, on the shore of the cosmic ocean. An inescapable beach with too many grains of sand to sift through. Trifling in the grand scheme of things yet immeasurable in its immensity. Human experience and construction a mere footnote to its natural wonders.
The snow-covered peaks of Northern BC
Why do we choose to go away, anyway? Is it the idealization of globe-trotting? Or the draw of various cultures, languages, and traditions that appeal to our aesthetic and emotional sensibilities? Is it just separation from our regular orbits? Maybe good marketing? (None of these mutually exclusive, of course.)
Honestly, it is weird that I even want to go to Iceland. I admit its allure may also be tied to shows I watch that film and edit the country into impossible beauty. Of all the places out there, it is probably the most akin to the areas I work and live in. Canada is nicknamed “The Great White North” after all, and boy does it live up to that name. Residents of its Western provinces have finally been visited by a winter that appears familiar in recent weeks. Arctic winds have descended upon BC and Yukon, bringing with them less ephemeral blankets of snow. Shapeshifting silver hazes obscuring blinding beams from oncoming vehicles and making invisible the cascading landscapes they navigate.
A solar halo as observed from Lower Post, BC
I have just driven through Northern BC and Southern Yukon, where we endured temperatures ranging from a not-so-pleasant -35 C to a relatively balmy -18 C. All worth it to engage with others towards a common aim. It did not hurt that we encountered the hardiest ravens, foxes, caribou, and moose that the globe has to offer. A short trip to remind me that there is plenty unfamiliar still to demystify in the diversity of this country’s seasons, geography, and its people.
Whatever the attraction to the foreign, it is worth indulging. An exercise that helps in bringing us all closer; an education on the human through radical exposure. I am all for culture shock.
I understand this is a much more charged thesis than one I have extolled before, in finding the value in the ordinary. However, fascinations ebb and flow. We do not always have the luxury of choice in following the desires that are on the rise at any given moment.
Sometimes better to float along at a pace defined rather than fight the waves and drown in weighty conceptions.
