Alex Robertson Textor

Seven Ways Pelee Island is Like a Caribbean Backwater

Our one cloudy day on Pelee.

1. People wave to each other from cars. There are so few people on the island’s roads that basic friendliness is a given.

2. Consumer goods are shipped in. Scarcity is the rule, not the exception. A sign at the Co-op last Tuesday requested that people wait until Wednesday for vegetable and dairy perishables if at all possible.

 3. Visitors fall asleep early. Shops close early and the one sceney restaurant around (see below) stopped serving its Friday fish fry last week at 9 pm.

4. There’s a restaurant associated with the island's Anchor & Wheel Inn that serves fried fish and has a Caribbeanish theme.

5. The population swells in season, from between 150 and 300 (accounts vary) to around 1000 (again, accounts vary.)

6. There are aggressive biting insects, especially in the aftermath of storms.

7. It is impossible to find a wireless Internet connection. Seriously impossible. When a visitor makes an inquiry on the subject he is told to relax and enjoy his vacation.

More substantive musings on Pelee can be read here.

Canada: Stamps & Southernmost Point

The most quotidian things are often among the most appealing. I came across these permanent postage stamps in at a Canada Post outlet in Calgary last month. They depict five mills across Canada. They're so diminutive and attractive that I originally bought them with a decorative objective in mind.

Tomorrow I head to Pelee Island, Ontario—Canada's southernmost inhabited point—for five nights, and I may just put these stamps to their intended use from there.

Gadling, Summer Jaunts, & a Round-the-World Journey

Those following my posts for Gadling might surmise correctly that most of my blogging is happening over there these days. I've been loving the association with Gadling, the friendliness of my fellow contributors, and the general spirit of the experience. I'm working on developing a few new series for Gadling, one of which, a Q&A series with travel industry insiders as well as travel writers and publishers, has already launched. Anyone who has developed an expertise within a particular travel industry or has honed a following as a travel writer, editor, or publisher should contact me.

I've got a few summer trips upcoming: a family visit to Portland, a Calgary-Winnipeg road trip with the inestimable Melissa Fondakowski followed by four nights in glorious Winnipeg, which I'll write up as a series for Gadling; a family trip to Chincoteague, Virginia; and a week with friends on Pelee Island, Ontario. 

And then in September and October, I'll be embarking with Matt on what may end up as the most exciting journey ever, a round-the-world jaunt focused on the Southern Hemisphere, with stops in seven territories. This is a trip that we've been planning for four or five years. I'll be blogging about my experiences along the way for Gadling and will detail my itinerary in a post there when the time is right.

There are many more exciting things coming down the pike later this year, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Manitoba: More on the New Icelandic Migration

I got some interesting responses to my post a couple of weeks ago on the expected migration of Icelanders to Manitoba over the next many months. At that point, there was buzz but little action. Now things are moving. Nancy Allan, Manitoba's Immigration Minister, spent most of this past week in Iceland hammering out a deal to lure work-hungry Icelanders in. See Mia Rabson's story in the Winnipeg Free Press (from last weekend) here. Iceland Review reports that a declaration of intent between Manitoba and Iceland was signed on Thursday, with the first public informational meeting about employment in Manitoba scheduled in Iceland on March 13.

Allan's visit has come under criticism from Aboriginal leader Dean Fontaine, who has advocated bringing more First Nations people into employment in the province; from other quarters, there have been complaints that Manitoba should be focused on recruiting workers from Canadian provinces hurt particularly badly by the recession. 

Another Icelandic Migration to Manitoba?

Some attention—though truth be told not as much as I'd have anticipated—has been devoted to the coming economic migration from Iceland. (Migrants to the country have already begun to depart in huge numbers. The BBC reported back in October about the exodus of Polish citizens, who have comprised the largest group of foreigners in the country many times over.) On a Monocle podcast a few editions ago, editors discussed where Iceland's economic migrants might be heading, suggesting that due to cultural links and the right of free movement, the Nordic countries were the obvious recipients.

But what about a possible migration westward? In yesterday's Globe and Mail, Patrick White writes a fascinating piece on the expected migration of Icelandic citizens ("...a trickle, not quite a torrent" in the words of Atli Ásmundsson, Iceland's consul-general in Winnipeg) to Gimli, Manitoba, a city of about 6000 north of Winnipeg. Gimli is the epicenter of Icelandic Canadian culture, and as such would be an obvious destination for economic migrants from Iceland.

But would savvy exiles from Reykjavík find cultural satisfaction in Gimli? Winnipeg, I dare to wager, would be a better fit. I'm a huge fan of the sorely underappreciated city, and have sung its praises in print. Winnipeg is a very creative place with loads of artists and other experimental types and an interesting ethnic and cultural mix. A modest influx would inject a distinctively Icelandic dose of creativity into the local scene, providing yet another dimension to a dynamic city already full of surprises.

Holiday Reading Materials: 50 States & Canadian Design Mavens

I've just made two fab discoveries, both unexpected. Yesterday I came across State by State: A Panoramic Portrait of America at the Elliott Bay Book Company in Seattle's Pioneer Square District. I was engaged in a little consumer waffling when my sister took it out of my hands and bought it for me. I'm happy she did. An anthology edited by Matt Weiland and Sean Wilsey, State by State includes great material on all 50 states, each by a different writer—or, in the case of Oregon (Joe Sacco) and Vermont (Alison Bechdel) by artists. I've been drawn to the Deep South and the Plains chapters; thus far, Louise Erdrich's North Dakota, George Packer's Alabama, and Alexander Payne's Nebraska have thrilled me.

I don't think I've ever been more excited to explore the United States than I have been since November. This huge country that is mine has always been interesting to me for its corners, subcultures, and regional variations that have somehow escaped national homogenization. That interest stands. As of late, it's simply broadened. And now, with an eye toward a possible cross-country road trip next summer, I've begun to chart out week-long itineraries across the country. State by State certainly inspires.

I've also made a new magazine discovery in Canadian House & Home, the January issue of which I picked up at the Vancouver airport earlier this week while waiting for my bus shuttle to downtown Seattle. The magazine is clever and quite fresh, with loads of interesting articles and profiles. Of note: the "Storewatch" feature on Anne Pearson's Vancouver Special, a design shop with great modern inventory—including, among many other things, this chair—and a round-up of four Canadian design blogs (Kim Johnson's co-authored Desire to Inspire; Marie-Eve Best's Lake Jane; Arren Williams' Arren Williams Design Lab; and  Jan Halvarson's Poppytalk.) They're all great blogs, quite divergent in sensibility and orientation. Best of all, in my estimation, is Claire Tansey's article "25 Things to Eat, Book, Buy and Read in 2009," which focuses on some outstanding Canadian food products. Among the products that got me smacking my lips: artisanal butter from Fromagerie Le Détour in Notre-Dame-du-Lac, Québec; a list of Canadian craft and microbreweries; and Avonlea clothbound cheddar cheese from Prince Edward Island.

In my head, it's been a very sea-to-shining-sea few days.