01/01/2024 So how did we get here? And where is “here” anyway?

This is the year of “Supertrip”: a 23½ week period “away”, that we set up this blog to share.

It has many starting places. But, if we keep to the last decade, it goes back to September/October 2018 when, anxiously in the midst of yet another extended period of unemployment, I walked the camino de Santiago de Compostela. Carey was still US-based, working at the Red Cross, so I walked it without him.

In 2019 and in 2020, we scheduled, then rescheduled, Carey’s walk, but covid denied him, twice.

In 2020, covid also did something else. That’s when Carey retired to join me on a contract in Nigeria. By mid-March, the borders were closed and Lagos locked down. Things got tense, then dangerous. Nations started evacuating their citizens. The Americans called Carey, but would not take me. I kept applying for British flights and getting bounced without explanation. They, too, wouldn’t take us both. Even though we were married, we had no rights to live in each other’s countries.

In mid-May, the Americans called Carey a third time and told him a third refusal would be final. With angst, pushed hard by me, he took the seat. I put him into an armed convoy and went back to the British as a lone female traveler. Just over a week later, I got a place on the (last) UK flight. With ongoing travel restrictions, it took us until July to reunite, in Paris.

So began our quest for a shared home. We both discounted the US: too expensive, too fearful. The UK had too many immigration barriers and required too much money. That left Ireland or Canada. We spent Winter 2021 in Ontario, BC and Alberta. Alberta was cold, yes, but crisp, with days drenched with prairie light. Carey spent his teens in Calgary. He has family nearby. The immigration process is straight-forward. The result? The chance at a good life in a well-appointed city, close to the mountains, with healthcare and an international airport.

I was granted permanent residency in Canada in late-August 2022.

Our move was not without loss. From over 450 job applications, I secured only a 3-month contract for paid work. With my qualifications and experience unregarded in Calgary, I was forced into retirement at 55. Accepting this is hard, not least the anxiety over our long-term financial position. Renting housing, parking downtown (and remote storage) ate our savings much too quickly. We could not afford to continue as is. But…

What if this could be a blessing, not a burden? We decided to lean into an unmoored 2024. Non-renewal. Store our stuff. Walk the Walk.

That created permission to stop the debilitating process of failed applications. It forced the acknowledgement that we can do that, at least for now. We know privilege is the ability to step away, regroup. Profound gratitude, therefore, is the third outcome. And we haven’t even started walking yet.