Churchill, Manitoba
For me, a lifelong city girl who has a distaste of anything physical and outdoors, the likelihood of going to a place like Churchill was as remote as flying to the moon and back.
Despite all odds, however, I have been seriously considering the possibility of moving and spending the rest of my life in the “Polar Bear Capital of the World” where the average temperature in the winter plummets to minus 29 Celsius.
It was the remoteness that appealed to me: with a population of less than 1000, Churchill is not accessible by any method of transportation other than taking a plane from Winnipeg. No roads or highways can take you there; the railway was severely damaged by flood few years back and the government is not interested in restoring it any time took (or so I hear).
As a social worker, I can find a job anywhere – even in the middle of nowhere like Churchill.
Perhaps it’s just an escape fantasy; or maybe I’m more serious than I ever was about anything else in my whole entire life. I don’t know. But this northern town has been beckoning to me for a few months now, and I’ve been thinking about relocating more often than I would like to admit.
Life probably won’t be anything special up there; actually, it would suck royally considering how remote it is (forget Amazon prime shipping – to be honest, I’m not sure how reliable the town’s internet service might be).
But I’ll be removed from everything that I had ever known. My friends, family, gossip, and countless other toxic ingredients that drove me to the brink of madness.
I’m sure there’s another hell on earth with it’s own version of madness in Churchill too. But at this point I am willing to embrace that instead of what I’ve been holding onto for too long.
