Oh Canada

Arriving in Vancouver was like a breath of fresh air, literally. China was amazing, the food out of this world, but it was so nice to breath fresh mountain air and, I won’t lie, the ability to communicate in our native tongue was a pleasure! We landed and made our way easily through customs and on to the train. We got off the train and waited for our very kind fried Ryan to pick us up, as luck would have it (good and bad) Ryan was off work due to a knee injury. After a load of washing and a couple of coffees as we had been awake for about 24 hours (our days of pulling ‘all nighters’ are long behind us) we caught the bus downtown for a few beers and dinner. We lasted until about 10pm and headed back to Ryan’s for a much needed sleep! And need it we must have, it was about 10am when we finally arose out of bed. We walked (well Ryan hobbled) down to a local cafe for a larger than normal breakfast. Unfortunately due to Ryan’s knee he was unable to join us on a walking tour of Vancouver but we were grateful for his map and recommendations. We made our way to Granville Island and were so impressed with the boutique craft shops, design studios and food markets that we were a little upset that our hearty breakfast had filled us up! We picked up a delicious coffee and carried on with our walk over Granville Bridge and in to downtown Vancouver. We had planned to catch the bus to Stanley Park and hire bicycles to explore the park, but due to being in complete holiday mode we had completely lost track of time and arrived at the bicycle hire shop half an hour before they close and therefore had stopped renting bikes out, which make sense as there wasn’t much daylight left. Instead we took a small walk with every intention to return on bicycles another time. Making the most of the mild weather we continued walking and exploring until the sun went down and we hopped on a bus back to Ryan’s to enjoy a night in.
Sunday was filled with more walks in the sunshine, a drive to North Vancouver to check out the view of the city, lunch and an afternoon walk over a suspension bridge and through a luscious rainforest that opened up to crystal clear pools. In the evening we were spoilt on two fronts by our friend Claire – her amazing cooking and the panoramic view over the city from her window. I could have stood at the window for hours without getting bored.
Come Monday morning Hayden woke early like a kid at Christmas- we were off to Whistler! We made the rookie error of sitting on the wrong side of the bus and therefore missing out on most of the spectacular scenery, but nevertheless it was an enjoyable trip and we were in Whistler Village in a little under two hours. We had managed to score a last minute deal on accommodation right in the village. When booking this accommodation we were not fussed on facilities, just something cheap and cheerful with a kitchen (sadly craving some home cooked meals). What we got was a beautiful studio apartment with a large bathroom, living room complete with gas fire, small but functional kitchen and the comfiest bed I have ever slept in! The apartment had been used as accommodation by media personnel in the 2010 Olympics and there were Olympic posters framed on the walls. Whistler Village was vibrant and it the midst of celebrating 50 years, they had had a good start to the season and the atmosphere was alive with excitement. Everywhere you went people were discussing the conditions, the odd thing was that all these people were Australian. Bar workers, restaurant staff, supermarket staff, shop workers, you name it, they had all migrated en mass to Whistler for a season of snow and partying.
Our lift passes were purchased courtesy of ridiculous Black Friday sales, the only drawback was the fact that they didn’t start until Wednesday so we had to endure another day of anticipation and trying to keep Hayden from bottling over with excitement.
Wednesday morning arrived and we were up early eating a hearty breakfast and packing sandwiches and snacks. We trundled over to the Gondola and made our way up the mountain. It was spectacularly clear at the top and as we put on our skis a little wave of apprehension came over me, the side of the mountain was a little more steep than I would have liked my first run to be. Hayden sped off with all the grace of a seasoned professional and I took a deep breath and zig zagged my way down a slope that was not actually that bad. It didn’t take long to get into the swing of things, but it also didn’t take long for our legs to begin to burn. Our plan to take it easy had failed and by early afternoon we decided to call it a day, we still need to be able to walk tomorrow (and preferably ski too)! Our legs got a little extra rest as we woke to heavy rain and we decided not to rush and instead enjoy the cosy gas fire and the morning news. We held on to the hope that rain in the village might mean snow up the mountain. Nope. We arrived at the top and had a surprisingly pleasurable run down, maybe our day wouldn’t be so bad after all. Then came the chairlift. Due to fairly high winds it was slower than normal and as the rain pelted our exposed faces and the wind howled around our ears I decided that this wasn’t fun anymore. We made our way down, the rain not easing, visibility poor and the snow getting slushy the further down we went.
The rest of the week saw plenty of snow, weekend crowds, fresh powder and hours of exploration on the Whistler Blackcomb Mountain. After six days skiing it was time to drag our tired bodies back to the bus station and head back to Vancouver and prepare ourselves for the sun and heat of Cuba. It’s a tough life.