(A warning this is more of a sunstroke-induced incoherent rant, but nobody really reads this anyhow, so I can write what I want.)
So yesterday we loaded up the SUV and went to Hornby Island for the day, I should have waited until September.
The island itself was absolutely gorgeous, as always, but the people on the island this time of year made it difficult to enjoy. One way to know why it was so difficult to be within the presence of these individuals was to overhear their conversations at the co-op and at the beach.
“Do you mind if ask what your place was assessed at?”
“We took some of that money and bought a place out here.”
“Our budget for a cabin on the island is going to be about 500.”
This is the fallout from whatever the Quebec Immigrant Investment Program, condo developers in bed with politicians (or vice versa), and whatever the hell else is making millionaires out of anyone who managed to buy a home in the 604 area code sometime before, I don’t know, 2010: the rest of BC is suffering from their artificial wealth.
What do they do with this bubble wealth is go out and drive up prices in other communities. Even worse, for those of us who have no interest in buying a home where they would buy a home, is they force us to listen to their inanities about their economic shrewdness whenever we go out in public.
These people are rich through dumb luck and, if the bubble holds, their children will be rich for the same reason. If they could keep their money in the 604 area code and play their real estate games in this area, that would be fine.
I know that when I take the ferry over to Vancouver, I am entering a one-industry-town. I expect the ceaseless conversations about house values, being priced-out of the market, and changing neighbourhoods. Now, however, when I go for a day-trip to Hornby or snowboarding at Mount Washington, I am inundated by people who have had their wallets fattened and their minds warped by fake money.