Why We Left Vancouver for Island Life (And Haven’t Looked Back)
So, here’s the deal: Vancouver’s amazing - until it isn’t. My family and I had our fill of city life. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all bad. But between juggling tech calls, deadlines, and pretending to enjoy city traffic, we decided it was time for a different kind of chaos. You know, the kind where cows replace cars, and the closest neighbour might be a sheep.
And here we are. Salt Spring Island - 30 acres of unpredictability, a life filled with mud, sunsets, and surprises. Spoiler alert: I haven’t missed the concrete one bit.
The Wake-Up Call
There we were, in Vancouver, living the so-called dream. Busy streets, busy people, and me trying to convince myself that living for the weekends was enough. I’d sit there, in front of my laptop, on yet another remote call, thinking, “Is this it?”
Turns out, no, this wasn’t it. I wanted more - more freedom, more nature, more hands-on work that didn’t involve answering emails. I mean, at some point, you’ve got to ask yourself: what’s more fulfilling - another Zoom call or digging your hands into some real soil?
You know the answer.
Cue Salt Spring Island. Where the WiFi’s unstable, the roads are narrow, and life has a funny way of feeling a lot more real.
The Good, the Bad, and the Muddy
Island life isn’t some polished postcard. It’s beautiful, but also... let’s say “character-building.” Picture this: you move to a 30-acre property with grand ideas of growing your own food, getting away from it all, and connecting with nature. Sounds perfect, right?
Here’s the reality.
There’s livestock to deal with - livestock that somehow thinks my freshly planted veggies are just right there for them. (Thanks for nothing, cows.) The WiFi? Yeah, about that. Turns out, it’s more of a “when it feels like it” situation, not a given.
And errands? In the city, you could just pop down the road. Here, it’s like, “Do we really need that, or can it wait another week until I’m emotionally prepared to tackle the ferry?”
But it’s funny. It’s messy. It’s got a rhythm that I’m learning to love. And even when I’m knee-deep in something less than ideal (mud, mostly), I know this life has a richness that Vancouver never could’ve given me.
Trading Spreadsheets for Soil
Okay, let’s not pretend I completely ditched my tech career. I still spend plenty of time staring at a screen, but it’s different now. The balance has shifted - now, the spreadsheets are balanced by actual, physical balance sheets: fields, plants, and work I can feel.
Glenraven Nursery was an idea that became a reality, a way to keep my hands busy with more than just keyboards and touchpads. Starting a nursery was about seeing growth happen right in front of me - not just seeing numbers climb on a quarterly report.
And yeah, I still log in for those meetings, but there’s something satisfying about wrapping up a call and heading straight out to check on a new planting. From a desk job to dirty hands in one fluid move.
The “Good Life” is Anything But Simple
So, why leave Vancouver? Because city life just wasn’t cutting it. It’s all well and good until you realize you’re missing out on the parts of life that feel real. It’s not perfect out here - there are moments that make me question my choices (looking at you, runaway livestock) - but it’s raw, unfiltered, and incredibly satisfying.
This blog? It’s going to be about everything that makes this kind of life what it is. The unexpected joys, the frustrations, and all those little moments that make island living something special. Reinvention isn’t a single decision - it’s every day that I get up, deal with what’s in front of me, and try to make it a little better. Whether that’s working the farm, troubleshooting WiFi, or just soaking in the silence at the end of a long day - it’s all part of the journey.
If you’re curious about what this life really looks like - how the tech calls mix with muddy boots and why leaving the city was the best decision - we’re just getting started. There’s a lot of ground to cover, and, honestly, it’s a lot more fun when it’s a bit dirty.
Stick around for more. I promise it’ll be messy, real, and just a little bit cheeky.