ucluelet

Dates travelled: February 2015; May 2015; June 2015; May 9, 2017

If it were located anywhere else in the world that I’ve been, Ucluelet would not be my second-favourite town within a 30 minute drive. When people talk about the west side of Vancouver Island, they’re much more likely to mention Tofino, with Ucluelet coming as a second-mention, or more likely, not mentioned at all.

Let’s start with the facts: Ucluelet and its sister town Tofino are about two and a half hours from the other nearest city you can drive to, winding down Highway 4 to Port Alberni. The drive is probably the most beautiful I’ve ever done, though the first time it can be pretty scary with, you know, the sharp turns around cliffs. When you get to the end of the highway, you can turn right to go to Tofino or left to Ucluelet. Ucluelet is much closer to the highway and feels more residential, while Tofino has more rich-people resorts and is closer to the beaches.

The best part of Ucluelet are the rocks. Wedged into the end of the island, looking out to the naked ocean, the giant jagged rocks take the brunt of a trillion tonnes of waves pushing against them, splashing on their edges and spurting up dozens of metres. Hiking along those rocks, although obviously dangerous, is the epitome of beach-climbing.

These rocks are next to the Wild Pacific Trail, known for its sojourn through ancient forest that ends up at a lighthouse that looks like the lighthouse on every lighthouse postcard. The trail itself is surprisingly tame in terms of difficulty, speckled with views of the water and rocks.

The last time I was in Ucluelet we slept in the back of a rented SUV. It was one of those newer models where you just press a button to start it. When our alarm went off at 5am, and I started the car to drive away for a quick walk before the drive back to Nanaimo to return the car, then ferry back to Vancouver for the flight home, the doors suddenly locked themselves like a horror movie and the car alarm started going off. I guess the keys weren’t in the front seat, and if they’re far enough away from the ignition, it thinks you’re stealing it. I tore through all our bags trying to find the keys to turn off the alarm, which took several minutes. I wonder how many people on that residential street woke up that morning worried about auto theft and called the cops. More likely they chalked it up to dumb tourists illegally camping overnight down the street from their houses.

In a zone with extremely high tsunami risks, I wonder how much more dangerous it’ll get as climate change continues at this pace. On one hand, because the temperature fluctuations there are so minor, the day to day discomforts aren’t likely to be as big as most places. On the other hand, the risk of imminent death is probably higher. Not sure how that affects the property values.

Easy to say now, but I think I would prefer living somewhere beautiful and tranquil where my day to day didn’t rocket 30 degrees in either direction. I’d accept the risk of house damage or more serious impacts of living on the side of the biggest body of water in the world. I don’t know if my anxiety-addled brain would do better in a spot like Ucluelet where there weren’t as many distractions – even just being there for a few days, I end up thinking so much I tire myself out – or if eventually I’d get used to the lack of entertainment options. For a vacation, though, I’m firmly on the side of recommending this town and the general area, to say the least.