No floods, famine, or war. And the people are nice.

Of course, we will want to eat well in a 1,000 ppm world. But as the atmosphere approaches that level of carbon dioxide, the IPCC states, the climate will “pose large risks to food security globally.” Well, let’s not beat around the bush. “This would not be a pretty world!” says Werner Kurz, a senior research scientist with Canada’s Pacific Forestry Centre and a lead IPCC author. “1,000 ppm would be a very extreme outcome with catastrophic consequences for permafrost, forest fires, widespread tree mortality — providing more feedback to climate change — and sea level rise that would be ongoing for centuries.”

But you can avoid the doom and gloom, and have your weekend farmer’s market, by packing up the Container Store crates and moving to Siberia. Yes, presently, it’s pretty damn cold. Oymyakon, in eastern Siberia, is considered the coldest populated place on earth. The 500-person town is sandwiched between two mountain ranges. The average high temperature in January is -45F. Residents put wool blankets over car engines to keep them warm so they’ll start.

But the research of Elena Parfenova and Nadja Tchebakova, of the Siberian Branch of the Russian Academy of Sciences, has shown that by the 2080s, summer temperatures would rise by nine degrees, winter temperatures would rise by 25 degrees, and precipitation would increase. A 2011 paper co-authored by the researchers and a scientist at NASA, published in the journal Environmental Research Letters, stated that from 50 to 85 percent of central Siberia is predicted to be climatically suitable for agriculture by the end of the century. “Crop production could increase twofold,” said the paper. New crops like grapes, corn, peas, and sunflowers would be possible across the territory, and southern Siberia may even become suitable for warmth-loving crops such as melons, gourds, and berries.

Parfenova and Tchebakova use an index known as the Ecological Landscape Potential, or ELP, which characterizes conditions for human habitability. In particular, the ELP in the towns of Egvekinot and Anadyr, have the potential for their population density to increase by more than six-fold. While Parfenova and Tchebakova say the “best place to live” would remain along the Trans-Siberian railroad, where infrastructure is developed, Egvekinot, along Siberia’s Arctic coast, “would likely be a growth point.” Plus, Egvekinot is close to the Bering Strait and future Arctic trade routes, and being perched on the northwestern edge of the vast Pacific Ocean has good access to southeast Asia and the west coast of North America, too.

Bangor, Maine

How to put this nicely? On a hot planet, with a paucity of fresh water and food, there will be war. Systems will be down. “Major transportation, command and control, intelligence, and deployment hubs may face unrelenting erratic outages or curtailment of operations,” states a 2016 report by The Center for Climate Security, a DC-based group composed of former Marine, Navy, Army and Coast Guard officers.

The United States Environmental Protection Agency has been looking out for us. It’s been tallying a “Climate Resilience Screening Index.” Basically, it’s a color-coded map of the U.S, that conveys, on a county by county level, which areas are best suited to handle climate change. The EPA looked at environmental, economic, and societal aspects of climate resilience, and also assessed governance and social services. The state with by far the highest overall score is Maine.

With rocky coasts that would be difficult to attack and easy to defend, close enough to the ocean for trade and transport, but high and rocky enough to not lose all of their coastline to storms and sea level rise, Maine could be the place for peace. It could also, in fact, be further fortified. In 2016, the Union of Concerned Scientists reported that a three-foot rise in sea levels would threaten 128 coastal defense installations in the U.S., many located in the South and Mid-Atlantic. As the world moves north to escape the heat, and the melting Arctic opens up major shipping routes, Maine could well become a strategically important military outpost. The military has long been betting on Alaska to play a more strategic role in an Arctic-busy world, but recently Maine has become part of that conversation too.

“As the climate changes and the Arctic continues to open, the strategic significance of the region will only grow more important,” Maine Senator Angus King said in 2015. The year before, the Maine Maritime Academy received a $450,000 grant from the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. It was for the “development and delivery of maritime ice navigation and first responder courses to complement the U.S. Coast Guard’s Arctic Strategy.”

Just now in Maine, Portland typically tops the list of best cities with “great restaurants, scenery, and schools,” writes Marina Schauffler of the Portland Press Herald. However, she notes, “The city’s bustling Old Port, much of it built on fill, is highly vulnerable to sea-level rise and storm surge” and “parts of the gateway Bayside neighborhood are even lower in elevation than the Maine State Pier along Portland’s waterfront.” Sea level rise won’t help any of this. So why not go even further north, to Bangor. The former timber hub is surrounded by forests, trails, parks, and breweries. And as the sea comes creeping up the Penobscot River, settlers can just keep on creeping further upstream.

Buffalo, New York

For a city to be able to take in potentially millions of new climate refugees it needs space. Meaning a metropolis laid out across relatively flat, relatively stable, grid-connected, non-flood prone land that has been developed but not too developed and still a natural enough landscape to be pleasant. So where is there a city that has this — and also will have water, nearby farmland, and not be close enough to the ocean to be swamped by rising seas or superstorms?

Buffalo, says Jesse Keenan, a faculty member of Harvard University’s Graduate School of Design. Keenan has studied the impact of climate change on cities around the world, notably Copenhagen, Hong Kong, and Miami. He coined the term “climate gentrification,” based on his research showing that costs associated with climate change — such as rising home prices on higher elevations in coastal areas — are beginning to drive people from their longtime neighborhoods and homes. He says he’s often asked by international investors where he would move in the future, and Buffalo is his regular answer.

“You first want to go where there’s fresh water and moderate temperatures,” Keenan says. “The Great Lakes for me make a lot of sense. Now, there’re algal blooms in the Great Lakes, and those aren’t easy problems to solve, but if you’ve got your algal loads under control and you manage that appropriately, Buffalo’s going to be an area that I think we’ll see a renewed economic investment because of its long-term capacity to accommodate density.” Many Great Lake cities fit a similar mold: Duluth, Chicago, Cleveland. “Anywhere in the Great Lakes should be OK,” says Keenan.

Iqaluit, Nunavut

One of the most underrated losses to people fleeing their drowning or burning cities will be arts and culture. Both will be essential to help humanity deal with the inevitable pain of a 1,000 ppm future. Throughout history, cultural meccas have moved around the world, and although this might sound far-fetched, as most of us have never heard of Iqaluit, the northern Canadian town, population 7,000, is already showing signs of a burgeoning arts and culture scene. There are artists, bureaucrats, and hardworking new arrivals. A 2011 article in the Nunatsiaq News, the Canadian Arctic’s main newspaper, profiled the story of 26-year-old Serge Lampron, who moved to Iqaluit from a smaller community “to make it big as a hip-hop artist.” Nearby Cape Dorset, famous for its soapstone carvings, has been said to have more artists per capita than any other city in Canada.

Iqaluit is well positioned to take advantage of a climate change-inspired push north. The city began as an America cold war airbase in the 1950s and ’60s, meant to track Soviet nuclear missiles headed across the Pole for America. Just last year Iqaluit opened a brand new international airport, and the city is located snug at the end of a long bay, making it better protected from notorious Arctic storms that have eaten away shorelines in places like Alaska. The city is presently above the tree line and soils are poor. But some 60 million years ago, at the start of the Cenozoic era, which scientists have called “a greenhouse world,” vast temperate rainforest, similar to the coastal rainforests of the Pacific Northwest and Chile, existed across the Arctic Archipelago. That greenhouse world could come again. A 2003 paper in the research journal Paleobiology tells us that the Arctic climate “supported productive, high-biomass redwood-dominated forests.” So come party in the forests of Iqaluit! And don’t forget your guitars, paints, books, and Happy Light lamps. In the winter, sunrise is at 9:20 in the morning and sunset at 1:40 in the afternoon.