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Near and far
This weekend I’m in northern- ish Ontario. Specifically, I’m in Espanola with LOML. We’re here for a birthday celebration. LOML’s uncle marked his 100th birthday on Friday. He’s not Irish, and I’m sure luck wasn’t involved in his longevity. As far as Espanola is concerned it’s been about 20 years since I was here. Uncle Fred was an old fella 20 years ago, and based on those advanced years we didn’t think we’d have many chances to visit with him again. Given the distance and all. And yet, here I am with LOML singing the birthday song to Uncle Fred with about 200 of his close friends and family. Ain’t life grand. Well, ain’t it? Grand, even if you happen to live in Espanola.
You know, Espanola is one of those places most people will never visit. It certainly is not on the beaten path. You have to want to be here or have a good reason to be there. And whenever we’ve visited, I look at the Domtar plant and think, “Wow, what a eco-unfriendly business, but some community has to put up with it.” The Domtar plant dominates the landscape on the edge of Espanola. Spewing smells and smoke for miles. But we want what Domtar makes, and it has to be someplace, right? Every small, remote town with an abundance of natural resources is bound to have a corporation like Domtar in its midst. The main street of town, Highway 6, is home to a few desperate looking strip malls, an abundance of Chinese take out restaurants, two banks and a handful of motels that seem to be stuck in the 1950s. The motels can’t even brag about being mid-century modern. MCM is something you buy in a kitschy shop. This MCM is real.
LOML and I are staying in one of those motels. Our choice features faux wood panelling on the walls, indooroutdoor carpeting on the floors and “shorty” synthetic fabric curtains that don’t quite cover the windows. Our host told us the mattresses were brand new. After eight hours on the road, if you like sleeping on a marble slab, this is the place for you. Our choices for accommodations were limited.
Espanola could use a few tips from a place like Prince Edward County, as regards the hospitality industry. On the bright side, the room we have is spotlessly clean, the hot water is abundant but smelly, and the towels are fluffy. The towels aren’t very big, but they are fluffy. The motel is owned and operated by a family who probably find this part of the world a whole lot colder than the part of the world they left behind for a better life. I quietly hope this is the better life for them. They seem to be pretty happy and surprisingly knowledgeable about the community they’ve adopted as home.
On the other hand, LOML’s family has lived in this part of Ontario for decades. All of his uncles and aunts, who live and have lived in this area, were from away. Mostly, they came from Scotland and England when the Second World War ended. Extreme weather wasn’t such a drawback for them. Immigrants, all of them, the Robbies and the Brights. At the time, they were looking for a better life in a place that had lots of space, lots of employment opportunities and good schools for their children. They had come to the land of opportunity. Domtar, Falconbridge, Inco and the railway made this moonscape of a an area “home” for them. On the bright side, when LOML and I venture a few kilometres from the hub of the metropolis, we’re in the land of the silver birch and home of the beaver nestled in and around the rocks of the great Canadian Shield.
I spent most of the weekend trying to understand why anyone would pick a place as remote as Espanola to be their home. Eight hours from Picton to Espanola. Five and half from Toronto to Espanola. And why would they stay for as long as they have? Early on Sunday morning as we drive down Highway 400 toward the “bigger, smellier, smoke”, the houses and businesses get closer together. Drivers get angrier and more aggressive.Then traffic slows to a crawl near the 401 cloverleaf and I can, suddenly, think of a thousand reasons to love the “near north,” or “near east” of Prince Edward County for that matter.
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