After what was possibly the worst flight ever, and what was most definitely the most inefficent immigration process I've ever been apart of, I made it up to Whistler. I slept that first night. Like someone who had forgotten what sleep was.
I had one full day at Whistler. A single day, and oh goodness, it was not wasted. I stayed in a hostel in the complex used by the Olympic athletes, and let me tell you: it was the shiniest, nicest hostel I've ever stayed in. Typically, I was randomly bunking in with two Australians. Apparently between them and us Kiwis, we're quietly infiltrating the world.
Whistler village was pretty, and I appreciated that starbucks was everywhere, and had free wifi. I even eventually came to appreciate their hot chocolates, and that they kept their stores warm. I wasn't in the village for long, though the main gondolas leave from there, which is kinda cool.
The snow? Phenomenal. A little heavier than talcom powder, but not by much. They'd had snow every night for the last few weeks, so I was pretty spoilt with the knee high drifts! The blackcomb side was covered in cloud, so after lunch I adventured across the peak2peak gondola (which had a glass bottom which wigged me out. I didn't realise how high it was!) and up the whistler side, where the view above the clouds was absolutely amazing. Breathtaking, even.
Climbing over the Olympic Monument at the Whistler Peak
Proof I made it to Whistler. Yeah! List Number 28
By the end of the day, as a straggler I'd been picked up by a few people who either felt that I couldn't possibly ride by myself, or was amused by my accent. It was pretty interesting the way that happened, but I was happy for the company.
I made friends with two boys (Paul + Stu) from somewhere up North (Prince George??) which was amusing. In the hot tub we met another couple, and we all ended up partying that night. And oh goodness, it was a lot of fun.
There was sitting in hot tubs outside as it snowed which was amazing, and then there was wandering around the village. There was an irish pup that made brilliant pizza and crappy cocktails, an amsterdam cafe where english boys taught us drinking games, and I taught them fuzzy duck + ship came into the harbour. There was an awful lot of jager bombs and even more vodka redbulls. There was dancing and flirting at Maxx Fish, and getting kicked out at 3 in the morning. There was dancing in frozen streets, and really chilled out taxi drivers.
All in all, one of the more brilliant nights out I've had.
Still, it felt weird not to have the crew around. To be drinking with strangers, and not have my best friends to exchange sly looks with. I miss the people at home. It would have been absolutely epic to have them all here. Pity no one has figured out how to apparate, yet.
Things I learnt: * Its a washroom, not a toilet. * A line up, not a queue. * Vodka Lemon Lime is actually called a Vodka Slime, and you'll be mocked for drinking it. I don't know why. * Don't let them switch out the jager in a jager bomb for anything else. It'll be disgusting, and you'll feel more sick than if you just had the jager. * Canadians really do say 'aye' and often, but don't appreciate it when you laugh every time they do. * Kiwi's + Australians are everywhere. You'll discover you like Australians more than you thought you did.
Up Next: Vancouver.
[Edit: I was a bit hungover when I wrote this, and posted it a little early. Google Reader is pretty quick on its toes with pushing it to the feed! Why isn't there a feed delay feature for moments like this?? So anyway, apologies if you read this well before I posted it. Accident!]