Edinburgh of the Seven Seas persists against nature’s geologic and oceanic wonders.
As the end of the world theatrics continue a very poignant dress rehearsal billboarding a plague of locusts, a viral epidemic, and the inaugural world eating champions hosted broadcast from within the confines of forced captivity, the instinct to flee the madness surpasses the urge for a strategic people watching endeavor swarmed and comfortably marooned by ceaseless crowds of cleansing randomness. The motivation to constructively relocate for a certain period of time hinges on whether or not Napoleon’s ghost will indiscriminately judge the festive harnessing of feedbags covering the faces of the glutenous contestants, or whether “super states” will be born through the collusion of hysteria and political intrigue in revamping the first world order of bureaucracy. With the Vegas casinos closed and applying the “life is normal test” if major league baseball games are being played and passively inducing a trance for the legions of sports fans, the time is now to vacate the premises, and the only question is where?
Ironically, the theme of the iconic French dictator has an ingrained lingering presence, and within 1,500 miles of his final resting place in the deep reaches of the South Atlantic abyss near the bottom of globe, exists a sanctuary that quite possibly can accommodate a small migration of individuals admonishing the entire concept of forced quarantine. The village of Edinburgh of the Seven Seas, which is as indifferent in isolation from the lochs, heather shrubs and Harry Rebus justice of the Scottish hinterlands as the disconnect of a typical tenured university science professor failing to espouse applicable objectivity, captures the essence of a neighborly remote outpost.
“Downtown” Edinburgh of the Seven Seas.
Pegged as the “remotest” habitable place on the globe and located on the volcanic island of Tristan da Cunha, a diminutive speck of land nestled in an obscure sliver of the South Atlantic ocean and separated from Africa and South America by thousands of miles of open seas, the settlement offers an abundance of peaceful silence exemplified by the sobering notion of “global distancing”. Administered by the UK, and lacking an airport, getting there is half the fun, and double the adventure. Searching Google maps for the island borders on the intense, as the expanse of blue water hiding the tiny speck of the island is rather daunting.
Under the heights of Queen Mary’s Peak, a latent volcano towering 6,675 feet above the north lowlands and sea level, the precious landmass supports a vibrant collection of life. (courtesy Google maps)
The island boasts a rigorous farming community of around 250 locals, and untarnished opportunities to experience a rich diversity of terrestrial and marine wildlife highlighted by a mild oceanic climate. Though the population is at the whim of the volcano, mountainous terrain, and the temperament of the sea, the rules of boundaries that apply to the majority of society are nowhere to be found in the middle of nowhere. With the guaranteed absence of constant political bombardment, and publicly-funded heroin dens, the simple and consistent ebb and flow of life far removed from the insufferable hysteria may be worth the travel expenses. There are no hotels, but selected residents open up their homes and properties as bed and breakfast destinations and reservations are available through various online resources. Popular activities include hiking, exploring, resting and scuba diving.
Jet lag may be a factor, before crossing some rough water.
A group of seaworthy vessels affords the rare opportunity to gain passage to the island on most months, including fishing boats on their way to even more lonely places, and the week long journey from Cape Town, South Africa costs around $500 to reach the destination and $1000 for the return trip back to the continent. On the bustling islet metropolis of St. Helena, the final chapter of Napoleon’s legacy 1,500 miles to north, and under the same umbrella of a British Atlantic maritime dependent territory grouping, regular air travel is possible, and eliminates the intrigue of taking the least traveled pathway.
As a true escape from the tedious maelstrom of vitriol and rhetoric spawned by California politicians and media members, a leisurely stay in Edinburgh of Seven Seas may be a tonic for a needed release. However, if a respite on a quaint island cannot cure the ailments of the modern world, there is always the gateway of Antarctica, only 2,300 miles due south.
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