1. Drink coffee. Constantly. How strung out you are is of no consequence, nor is the fact that you need haven’t slept in two and half days; you will easily be recognized as an outsider if you are not currently drinking coffee, just had a coffee, or intend to go for a coffee within the next half hour. Keep in mind that once you do have a cup in hand, complain to anyone within earshot that your tiny, local coffee shop makes much better coffee.
2. Pretend you recycle whether you do or not. Otherwise, 97% of Victoria’s population will instantaneously look down on you and likely shun you; and should you dare to throw away a pop can when the next recycling bin is a mere three blocks away, expect to find yourself facing the glares of many a dreadlock-framed face.
3. When visiting the UVic campus do not fuss over the bunnies. Every native Victorian has tripped over so many bloody bunnies that they generally fantasize about integrating them into kicking practice. Keep in mind, however, that baby bunnies are the exception to the rule as even the most hardened local will succumb to their charm to coo and pat them.
4. While there are many components to truly blending in with local Victorians, it is commonly accepted that no one will ever know the street names of most of the island city’s roadways. It is more than enough to know the two street names outside of your hotel; should you manage to learn a third you will be able to fool anyone into believing how local you are.
5. Smoke pot.
6. Should you enter into conversation with a local, be sure to refer to the rest of Canada as “the Mainland,” while referring to their own island as “the Island.” Due to the elevated cost of living, Victorians have come to believe there exists a critical divide between their lifestyle and those who don’t live on the Island, and reserve the right to mention it when presented with the opportunity.
7. No matter how cool, how fascinating, or how frightening you may find the monster ferries that transport most of the Island’s population, be sure to act calm and/or bored when faced with a trip on board. Many Victorians ferry to the Mainland once or twice a week, and therefore have long since gotten over any sense of wonderment they may have felt. Becoming seasick in storms is almost unforgivable and will instantly mark you as a tourist.
8. The downtown area is a haven for the homeless and the housed have long since accepted not only their presence, but the likelyhood that they will run into the same homeless man or woman on a regular basis. If you intend to be in the city for longer than two weeks, it’s pertinent that you befriend at least one hobo to greet on a regular basis, or the homeless themselves will know you are not local.
9. To truly pretend to be Victorian, be sure to have something you bought from a second-hand store. If you cannot appreciate the benefits for the environment, child workers in Malaysia, and the Island’s very own homeless, at least wear a ratty old article and pretend you bought it for five dollars or so at a thrift store.
10. Complaining about the cold is not only common practice but a favourite activity of the local population, despite the temperate climate and near-permanence of above-zero weather. Should you ever be forced to wear a jacket with your sandals, be sure to mention the “relative cold” of living so near to the ocean and speak wistfully about the arctic conditions of your hometown; there, at least it’s a “dry cold.”
2. Pretend you recycle whether you do or not. Otherwise, 97% of Victoria’s population will instantaneously look down on you and likely shun you; and should you dare to throw away a pop can when the next recycling bin is a mere three blocks away, expect to find yourself facing the glares of many a dreadlock-framed face.
3. When visiting the UVic campus do not fuss over the bunnies. Every native Victorian has tripped over so many bloody bunnies that they generally fantasize about integrating them into kicking practice. Keep in mind, however, that baby bunnies are the exception to the rule as even the most hardened local will succumb to their charm to coo and pat them.
4. While there are many components to truly blending in with local Victorians, it is commonly accepted that no one will ever know the street names of most of the island city’s roadways. It is more than enough to know the two street names outside of your hotel; should you manage to learn a third you will be able to fool anyone into believing how local you are.
5. Smoke pot.
6. Should you enter into conversation with a local, be sure to refer to the rest of Canada as “the Mainland,” while referring to their own island as “the Island.” Due to the elevated cost of living, Victorians have come to believe there exists a critical divide between their lifestyle and those who don’t live on the Island, and reserve the right to mention it when presented with the opportunity.
7. No matter how cool, how fascinating, or how frightening you may find the monster ferries that transport most of the Island’s population, be sure to act calm and/or bored when faced with a trip on board. Many Victorians ferry to the Mainland once or twice a week, and therefore have long since gotten over any sense of wonderment they may have felt. Becoming seasick in storms is almost unforgivable and will instantly mark you as a tourist.
8. The downtown area is a haven for the homeless and the housed have long since accepted not only their presence, but the likelyhood that they will run into the same homeless man or woman on a regular basis. If you intend to be in the city for longer than two weeks, it’s pertinent that you befriend at least one hobo to greet on a regular basis, or the homeless themselves will know you are not local.
9. To truly pretend to be Victorian, be sure to have something you bought from a second-hand store. If you cannot appreciate the benefits for the environment, child workers in Malaysia, and the Island’s very own homeless, at least wear a ratty old article and pretend you bought it for five dollars or so at a thrift store.
10. Complaining about the cold is not only common practice but a favourite activity of the local population, despite the temperate climate and near-permanence of above-zero weather. Should you ever be forced to wear a jacket with your sandals, be sure to mention the “relative cold” of living so near to the ocean and speak wistfully about the arctic conditions of your hometown; there, at least it’s a “dry cold.”
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