I never wanted to move to Toronto. As with many who move to the city, it was a job that brought me. The promise of a real career and the rising path that comes with it pulled me away from the snow-capped peaks of British Columbia and deposited me reluctantly amongst the steel and glass skyline of the energetic metropolis. I arrived after a long cross-country drive to the humid sauna of June in Ontario and spent that summer exploring the city, soaking up the incredible music scene and eclectic culinary offerings. I was content leaving the outdoor beauty of B.C. behind for the new riches of the Golden Horseshoe’s culture—for a short time.
A long dismal winter followed the thick, asthmatic air of that first summer and I soon found myself in a mood as dark as the concrete landscape surrounding me. While the Torontonian winter wasn’t nearly as cold as the Canadian Rockies I was accustomed to, the city and its people seemed to be. I bitched and moaned endlessly. I sulked like a child. I inundated my office mate, my friends and anyone who would listen with my disdain for Ontario, always placing it in stark contrast with my beautiful British Columbia.
I couldn’t help it. I missed the clear blue water and fresh cool winds. The huge snowfalls and the cleansing rain. I longed for true wilderness and long unpolluted beaches. On the other, dirtier, hand, I loathed the sticky, odorous air of Toronto. I battled the relentless bug attacks. I despised the slush-filled city streets. In my mind, B.C. grew better everyday. It was becoming flawless, and all the while Toronto’s stock was dropping like, well, Toronto’s stock market. Simply put, I was not digging Ontario. That was all about to change.
Tobermory was the first time my Western Canadian elitism was challenged. That spring, four hours north of the city, the Bruce Peninsula greeted me with open skies and fresh air. My girlfriend and I spent a long weekend exploring the trails and woods in a fevered joy, ecstatic that we had found a little slice of B.C. in Ontario. We ferried to Flowerpot Island and hiked the perimeter, building rock cairns in the same spirit of the tourists we poked fun at. We searched for souvenirs in the gift shops, small buildings full of character and smiling shopkeeps. It was like Saltspring Island without the hippies. We burned hot dogs over a campfire and played cards by lantern-light. Even the drive to and from Tobermory was perfect, punctuated with frequent stops to photograph calendar-perfect fields or lap up overpriced ice cream in exotic flavours. The mental weight of Toronto’s smog was quickly dissipating.
We followed up the next weekend with a trip to Long Point, where the waves dragged heavily across the sandy shore, dredging up pleasant memories of Tofino surf trips from my former life. A long brisk night of rum- and mushroom-fueled skinny-dipping was followed by an equally long day of skimboarding and lazy reading. Late that Sunday afternoon, sunbeams splintered over the top of my book as I lay on the beach and I realized my perspective was shifting.
A few weeks later, while we dipped our feet in an impossibly silent lake in Haliburton Forest and watched the sun dip behind the low topography that makes up Southern Ontario, I had an epiphany. Ontario was not Toronto. Ontario was so much more than that big beast of a city. I had assumed the people and the ways of the city that dominates the Canadian landscape, both politically and physically, were indicative of the province. I was sorely wrong. My B.C.-born ignorance had blinded me. Furthermore, it had provoked constant comparison against my home province and stood strong in the way of my full appreciation of the province deemed mine to discover. Later that year, long after that spring epiphany, as I paddled a blissful but bug-bitten canoe ride through Algonquin’s stunning waterscapes, I finally found time to reflect on and appreciate what Ontario is; beautiful, natural and unfairly judged. I also realized what it wasn’t—British Columbia. And that, I realized, is just fine with me. – Mike Berard
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Great post. Just what I needed right now. My wife and I are moving back to small town Ontario in a month after 6 years of living in Vancouver. A lot of people don’t understand why we’d want to do that; they should read your post.
Great post. Just what I needed right now. My wife and I are moving back to small town Ontario in a month after 6 years of living in Vancouver. A lot of people don’t understand why we’d want to do that; they should read your post.
Great post Mike! I have only been to Toronto for one visit, and actually really liked it, though I hear that initial impression wears off. Would love to see more of Ontario and the nature there someday
well said.