As required by Molvanian law, I present my family’s passports, entry visas and Diner’s Club cards to the officer in the glass-walled booth. He glances at the documents, looks me up and down, scowls, and picks up the receiver on the desk in front of him.

He mutters something indecipherable into it, then returns his gaze to me. “You wait here,” he says, then stands and exits stage left.

A door opens next to the booth, and the officer, along with two rather lethargic-looking guards, enter the large windowless room.

“You come with me,” the officer says, pointing at Angela and I. “Children stay here.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I say, shaking my head. “No way. We stay here with children.”

“Children must stay. You are under arrest now. You break law.”

The officer nods, and the guards step forward and put their hands on my shoulders. Angela turns and pushes one of them back, at which point the officer flips open a small glass case on the wall and pushes a small red button.

Two more guards burst into the room and grab me. The original guards turn and grab Angela. As I struggle, I follow the line of my wife’s wide eyes toward the spot where our daughters were standing moments earlier.

“Ang! The girls!” I yell, pointing toward the back of the room. There, we see our children being led through another door by a pair of uniformed women.

They disappear and Ang loses it. “Where the hell are they going! What the hell is going on!” she screams, pulling an arm loose and jabbing her finger in the officer’s face.

“They are safe,” he replies calmly. “We must hold them until you are indicted or cleared by a federal judge under Section 49b of the Molvania Purity Act, and then…”

“Are you fucking serious?” Angela interrupts. “Who’s in charge here?”

The officer smiles. “Why, the Tremendous Leader is in charge. But he’s a little bit busy right now” — the guards chuckle — “so you have to wait here. But don’t worry, children are safe. Now please come with us.”

Smiling, he points toward a third door. “This way to the embassy...”

Angela breaks free from one of the guards just as I join her in losing my shit. On one hand, there is something primal about protecting our children. On the other, safeguarding children against any threat, no matter the consequences, is part of what makes us human.

We both lunge for our kids’ exit, knocking over one of the guards. On his hands and knees, he reaches for his Taser and fires it at Angela, sending her writhing to the floor.

I reach the door, only to be tackled by the other three guards. I turn my head in time to see the rifle butt being raised and…

I jolt awake, arms crossed in front of my face. I must have cried out, because Angela mumbles something and rolls toward me.

My breathing slows as I realize where I am: In bed at home, not at some newly totalitarian border crossing.

Then, as is always the case with nightmares, relief rushes in. It’s not real. It's not happening to my family. It’s not happening to me.

Travel elicits many emotions, from awe to anger and from upgrade ecstasy to gift-shop remorse. But over the course of my Canadian wanderings there’s something more: Pride. That's what this daily series is all about: Sharing my proud perspective on the 30 places and experiences that make my country the greatest on Earth. Some of my selections are world-famous, others are little-known, a few are acquired tastes...and this one would make an Ewok feel right at home.
 
“Oh, I’ve been in spheres for about 20 years now.”
 
This isn’t something I hear every day. Of course, it’s not every day I check into a spherical room dangling in the lush Vancouver Island forest surrounding Qualicum Beach. This is as good as it gets for getting close to nature, and I can think of no better place for B.C.’s new Green Party caucus to convene, or for Donald Trump’s incarceration and rehabilitation.
 
I arrive at Free Spirit Spheres at around 11 p.m., but despite the late hour I'm greeted warmly by Tom Chudleigh, who owns and operates these unique digs with his wife Rosie. When Chudleigh says he’s “in spheres,” he’s not speaking literally. He means he’s been crafting spherical tree-houses big enough to sleep, dine and relax in for more than two decades. While working on a round houseboat in the early 1990s, the trained shipbuilder realized the three-metre-wide orb would be more at home in the treetops. The end result was christened “Eve,” and by 1997 was roped into the forest canopy of nearby Denman Island.
 
As Eve’s local fame grew, so did demand to snooze in the sphere. So, over the next few years, she was relocated to Chudleigh’s current 10-acre property and joined by three slightly bigger sisters: Eryn, a three-person loft sphere suspended about two storeys above the forest floor; Melody, the newest sphere, with a Murphy bed that enables daytime dining; and Gwynn, the “branch office.” Free Spirit now sees more than 2,000 guests a year, Chudleigh says, and is looking to expand to a larger property where 10 spheres could be connected by suspended walkways, kind of like the Ewok village in Star Wars Episode VI.
 
As we climb the spiral staircase leading up to Eve, Chudleigh goes over the tree-house rules: Watch your step, watch out for wildlife (especially black bears), and wear a headlamp when walking to the shower hut and mushroom-shaped outhouse at night.
 
Despite Eve's quirkiness, it doesn’t take long to feel right at home. The efficient interior is reminiscent of a ship’s, with a single bed, a settee, counter space and several wooden cupboards and drawers containing a kettle, coffee press, teapot and the like. There are even built-in speakers that connect to handheld devices, while a small electric heater warms the cosy space. “You can feel the magic here,” Chudleigh says as he bids me goodnight. “You lie in bed and you look up at that round ceiling, and it’s magical.”
 
Initially, I lie in bed wondering if I’ll get used to the swaying sensation I feel every time I roll over. In this regard, the experience also evokes a small ship, but not quite: There seem to be two types of simultaneous motion, as if I’m sleeping on a ship’s waterbed.
 
Chudleigh later attributes this distinctive sensation to the concept of “bio-mimicry” he embraced when designing and hoisting the spheres. They use the forest as their foundation, he explains, and mirror the natural robustness of the surrounding eco-system. Each sphere is supported by a web of nine ropes tethered to three trees, yet each rope is strong enough to support more than a tonne of weight, considerably more than that of each sphere and its occupants. But like their foundation, “in a big wind, these things move round,” Chudleigh adds.
 
The breeze is light during my stay, and eventually the gentle swaying lulls me into a deep, peaceful sleep. I awake at dawn – still being on Ontario time – and gaze out a round window as the sunrise illuminates the verdant forest canopy.
 
It’s the most wonderful awakening of my life. So wonderful, in fact, that I consider spending 20 years in spheres. Literally.
 
WHERE TO STAY
Unless you’re already on Vancouver Island, a journey to Free Spirit will likely involve passing through Vancouver or Victoria. If you wisely decide to linger in either city, the Victoria Marriott Inner Harbour and Residence Inn Vancouver Downtown are ideal bases for exploring B.C.’s urban charms — and with the latter, for protesting in front of Vancouver’s new Trump International Hotel & Tower. Plus, you can redeem Marriott Rewards for a shiny new megaphone...