On my last flight home from New Mexico, I sat next to a man, who after some small talk of where are you from, and what do you do, he said, “I think I’d be frighten to live on an island.” I said, “I’d be more scared to live in a country where more people have guns than healthcare.”

But I digress.

Living on an island is romantic and beautiful and I like telling people I live on a small island off the coast of BC. It’s magical and wonderful and oh so beautiful here. And like any kind of romance or magic, after a while it becomes routine and you start to see the cracks in the wonder.

There is something comforting about riding home on the ferry, in Howe Sound, after a long day in town that settles me and yet, the ferry is a big reason we are ready to leave.

Living on an island can feel claustrophobic at times. Knowing the last boat runs in the evening or not being able to go where you want when you want, limits on the things you can do, plus it is expensive.

When we lived in Oregon, our home was five miles out of town yet, there were times around 8 p.m. that Ken and I would turn to each other and say, ”Let’s go for ice cream,” and off we would go in the car for a drive and a treat. And even though that isn’t the worse thing about living on an island, we can’t do that here.

As we have explored other places to call home, we have travelled to the Sunshine Coast and Vancouver Island. There is “more” in those places and still, there is a dependance on a ferry to get there. As beautiful as these places are, we are done with islands.

We aren’t sure where we will go, but culling places and knowing what we don’t want is almost as good as knowing what we do want.

We are looking at the lower mainland around the Ladner area as our next home. Looking, but not sure. I suppose how quickly or slowly our house sells will light the fire of decision for us. But for now, the next place will not be an island.

I will miss a lot of things about Bowen, the main one is being able to tell folks about the cool place we live. Other places don’t seem as exotic, but I’m sure, that no matter where we end up, it won’t be long before one of us, at 8 p.m. will turn to the other and say, “Let’s go for ice cream!”