People & Places
Whittens look westwards to BC
After nearly two years of living in Alberta, with an unscheduled return to Britain halfway through, Les and Fiona Whitten are on the move again – to BC
Paul Beasley catches up with them.
The trouble with finding a specific house in the many low-rise communities that spread out like a chequered skirt from the compact core of Calgary is that many of the streets start with the same word. Having driven into Okotoks, a town of some 13,500 residents that is surely soon to be swallowed by the ever-advancing tide of Calgary's city limits, things get more complicated as I struggle to find Crystal Lake Drive in a street-sized spaghetti of similarly named roads. Finally, after having called Les and Fiona Whitten whilst within just a few roads of their address, I find their beautiful four-bedroom home tucked away in a quiet cul-de-sac of properties that are variations on the same architectural theme.
From the shells of half-constructed homes in the neighbourhood, it is clear that the Whitten's house is made of wood and clad with aluminium panels, so my first question upon being invited in and joining Les and Fiona on their brown leather sofa is how does it feel to live in a house that isn't made of brick or stone? Fiona, her eyes smiling, says "When the wind blows hard the house creeks, I feel a bit scared, but it hasn't fallen down yet." Les adds, "It's not at all cold inside in winter as I feared in might be, and the advantage of wooden houses is the quick construction time." He gestures through a window to two new properties being built some 80 metres away. "The basements are made of concrete and after this is set it only takes four days or so to construct the timber shell."
However speedily it was put together, their 20-month-old house is immaculately finished, with the polished oak flooring in the kitchen and dining area catching my eye. Seeing the direction of my gaze, Fiona explains that "Les has taken over polishing because he said I wasn't doing it well enough!" After a pause, she adds, "I don't mind". A mischievous smile crosses her face. Les and Fiona take me on a quick tour of their house, although with a total floor space of 3,000 square feet - at least double the size of a four-bed in the UK – it isn't necessarily that quick. We start in the basement, which on its own is big enough to house a family of four, and has its own gym room, the ground floor boasts a large room that looks to be entirely for their cat to use, and upstairs the generous space continues – there's a double-sized shower cubicle, a walk-in wardrobe, and even a walk-in linen cupboard.
We descend to the dining room to eat the pasta and salad Fiona has prepared, which makes me wonder what do the Whittens think about Canadian food in general? "The cheddar here is not as good as in the UK," Les ventures, clenching his teeth and pulling his lips into a wide-mouthed grimace that even Wallace and Grommit would be proud of. "Think of the mildest cheddar in UK then make it twice as mild – that's what it's like here. It's plastic." Les grimaces again, as if such cheddar were actually in his mouth as we speak. "Supermarkets can be quite limited," Fiona adds. "The fact that no supermarket has everything you need ends up costing you money as you go to a second supermarket and buy things you don't need because you think 'I'm here now and may as well buy more stuff'". She rolls her eyes at the memory of having done just this more times than she can remember. "Groceries cost about 50 per cent more here than in the UK," Les points out, "with bread and breakfast cereal being particularly expensive, but in many other respects Alberta is cheaper than England."
I ask, besides cheese, if there are any other ways that Canada fails to measure up to the UK. Fiona responds: "The TV here - excuse my language - is crap." She laughs and looks at the floor nervously as if she's been naughty. "The comedy and drama are bad, but we just got BBC Canada and so are very excited." The topic of conversation moves on to the English sense of humour and how dependent it is upon a subtle use of language where one word can mean four or five things depending on the context. "As well as differences in our sense of humour, sometimes Canadians don't even have the same vocabulary," Fiona says. "I've introduced many new phrases – like 'pigeonholing' – to my workplace, a vets where I work three days a week. My colleagues say they love my clipped English announcements over the speaker system," she says with a smile.
Les, a computer network designer, explains that at his work he's enjoying shorter working hours of 8 until 4 – but then confesses that he ends up working late quite often. Fiona shoots him a resigned look. Nonetheless, Les says that in his experience Calgary can be laid-back when it comes to working hours. "On Friday the car park next to my work is empty by 12.30. Colleagues in a sister company in BC have a joke about us not doing any work," he chuckles. "They call at midday and ask, 'You done any work yet?'
The meal over, we move out onto the balcony and overlook the grassy communal areas surrounding their house; to the west the horizon ends in the grey and jagged form of the Rockies. I comment that there is a good-sized space between their house and those being built behind it, but Fiona sounds doubtful about the merits of this fresh air due to the path that cuts across the grass. "Even though this is presented as a selling point, it results in a feeling that you're living in a goldfish bowl," she remonstrates. "They're real rubberneckers here," Les adds, sounding mildly exasperated, "It's like, hello, we're in here, so stop looking through our window". As the sunlight dims, and with the Whitten's imminent move west into British Columbia in mind, I ask Les what he and Fiona would score their current life out of ten in terms of happiness. "We're eight or nine out of ten happy here, I would say. It would be nine or ten but for the cold winters. For us, there's too much snow in Calgary - it stops us mountain biking. And if you want to ski, the best slopes are two hours away." Fiona adds, perhaps surprisingly for a Brit, "We'd rather have rain than snow. At least this means there's more greenery. We prefer BC in this respect as southern Alberta does turn very brown in summer, so we're hoping for ten out of ten in BC." She pauses, her forehead wrinkling slightly as she searches for a way to sum up the motivation for their move westwards. Fiona looks up: "It's just fine-tuning, really," she says with a nod.
Whilst it's clear that the Whittens haven't looked back since leaving Milton Keynes (who would?) and don't regret moving to Alberta, they are now repeatedly comparing BC with Alberta in a favourable light at every opportunity, whether they mean to or not. After all, I remind myself that Les and Fiona originally hoped to move to BC, where they'd been on numerous skiing holidays since their first visit in 1998, but the work permit-friendly job that initially accelerated their move to Canada was in Alberta, so they moved here in January 2004 whilst Les's Skilled Worker application was being processed. Having bought a house in Okotoks and moved in that May, they then decided that they – or Fiona, as Les tells it – had hastily bought the wrong property, so they sold up and moved into a new property five months later. At this point, however, Les decided that an even bigger mistake had been made - emigrating in the first place. So, just three weeks later, they were back in the UK, but two months after that the Whittens were convinced that their future really did lay in Canada. So when Les's visa came through in March 2005 they moved back into their house in Calgary – the one we're standing on the balcony of now.
But this second house in Okotoks is now back on the market for CDN$520,000 - a cool $160,000 more than they paid for it, and with Calgary a true sellers market at the moment, it shouldn't be long before the Whittens can move to Maple Ridge, just outside Vancouver, and Les can transfer to his new employer, Bell. "Maple Ridge is just minutes from a provincial park," says Les, his eyes lighting up at the thought of all that hiking and biking to come. But despite their eagerness to move to the green and pleasant land they believe is waiting for them, they won't be crossing the Rockies without a fond glance over their shoulders. "I'll miss work," says Fiona. "It took me a while to find such a suitable job, especially as it involves working with horses. I'll also miss the friends I go to the gym with."
As the light begins to fade away, I realise I'd better take a picture of the couple before it's too dark. As we set up the shot, Fiona chides Les for never keeping his eyes open during photos. This time there's no problem in that respect: Les opens his eyes iguana-wide and looks unblinkingly into the lense. The result, however, is not the best of pictures. We try again. This time I suggest the Whittens looking westwards towards the Rockies. Les gets into character immediately, hands above eyes, scanning the horizon like sailor who hasn't seen land for three months. Initially, Fiona struggles to stifle her giggles and protests that she "feels too silly," but finally she manages to point west as her head flops onto Les's shoulder, but seconds later she creases up again.
Shortly after, camera back in case, I say my goodbyes and drive off into the sunset, the parting words of Les echoing in my head. "No one gets it right straight away in such a big country." He's got a point. Even when emigrating, there's always a bit of fine tuning to do. The initial move is huge, of course, but after that there are plenty of details to work on, especially if you're trying to turn an eight into a perfect ten.
Register for your FREE emigration starter pack
Subscribe to Emigrate Canada. Read more ...