I grew up in a place that was in many ways quite a lot like Norcia. Norcia is like a little island of paradise in the middle of Italy; it has a unique culture and climate and doesn't concern itself overmuch with what goes on in the world outside the valley.
Victoria is actually on an island that also has a unique climate and culture, quite distinct from that of the rest of the country. And, when I was growing up there at least, it also didn't really concern itself much with what goes on outside.
We Victorians grew up knowing that the world was made up of two places: the Island and the Mainland. Whatever was not on the Island was the Mainland... Vancouver, Toronto... Australia... India... Antarctica...these were all the Mainland, and all had a quasi-mythological feel to them. We heard that some people went there, and some people even came from there, but no one I knew could confirm their existence first hand. And it didn't matter anyway, since they were completely unimportant. What happened on the Mainland did not concern us.
I will soon make the acquaintance of the local archivist and historian. I think it's time to start writing about this extraordinary place.