A one-time school project gone terribly, terribly wrong.

03 August 2007

Interview Question Four

4. Where in the world would you live if you could choose any place at all?

Well we can eliminate anywhere that's not a democracy of some credible sort. Having thus knocked off roughly two-thirds of the globe ... I think I already live in the finest country on Earth. If I were deported, I'd get them to ship me out to Oz, which could be Top Nation if they'd elected someone else.

I wonder whether I could narrow it down to three choices?

In Australia: I really enjoyed Byron Bay. Yes, I know it's not really Oz. It is instead an enclave of Canada and Holland. Canucks and Dutch swarm the place and one day they'll actually put up a border control post. But it has excellent beaches with good surf for learning on ... come to think of it, what else do you need? Ah yes--and Cheeky Monkey's bar was the first place I ever drank where the tables were designed for dancing on (from the website it looks as though they've tarted it up a bit). Oh, and Nimbin, popular among herbacious boarders, is mere minutes away by bus. Or even shorter as the Deadhead flies. There's also the famous Cape Byron lighthouse, where incoming daylight first strikes the Australian mainland.

In Canada:
I just got back from a little island in the Pacific. Well technically it's in the Strait of Juan Da Fuca (prounounced "Wanda Fewka", to avoid confusion. Students at the local community college were thrilled when it received university accreditation status, because they could now wear sweatshirts reading "Juan Da Fuca U"). It's cool, and the piece of it I was camping on is a co-op dedicated to simplicity, and therefore primitive and undeveloped. The local slogan is "nothing permanent". The only structures permitted at campsites are driftwood shelters to cook and hide out of the rain beneath. The local ocean is chilly, but the beach is sandy. Wildlife abounds.

However, I have always believed that if I live a good clean life and worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster in appropriate fashion, then when I die I will go to Truro, Nova Scotia.

I was in Truro for only one terrific night, as passenger in a bus full of young men on our way to do something military. Truro had draught beer at 75¢ a glass. Truro had one bar which contained four bars (including a country bar, but you have to take the bad with the good, right?). Truro had an enormous nursing college, rendering the male/female ratio the best I've ever seen. And Truro had seemingly the highest number of natural redheads in Canada (not that I'm picky, but it was what I was noticing that season).

The neighbouring countryside, what I saw of it the following morning, was rolling hills and farmland, good for walking.

So those are my choices. I have others. Fréjus, in France. Berlin (East). Basically anywhere there are people to watch and interesting stuff to do, with a place to retreat to once I'm tired of doing interesting stuff.


At 4:34 p.m., Blogger mur said...

If you get back to Oz, try a place called Coffs Harbour. A little like Byron with lots of unspoiled glden sandy beaches but not quite as touristy, well, not as many faux hippies (yet). A half hour drive inland and you are in the Blue mountains at a place called Dorrigo with cool, virgin, primeval rainforests all around. One of my favourite places.

At 7:25 p.m., Blogger Metro said...

Isn't that the home of the Biggest Banana in the World?

Well looka that, so it is. But I gotta post this.

At 8:20 a.m., Blogger Wandering Coyote said...

I'd totally live on Galiano Island - it's one of my favourite places ever. Alas, I'll never afford it... Also, the Exmoor, Devonshire, my other favourite place in the whole wide world (or what I've seen of it so far). Again, I'll probably never be able to afford it, but I can dream...Helsinki/Finland ranks #3 on my list.

At 1:25 p.m., Blogger Metro said...


Not all the Gulf Islands are filthy expensive. Denman itself can apparently be had for relatively cheap.

Rental accomodation is sometimes available if you're willing to caretake someone's palace in return for a shakedown in a converted garage.


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