Day 297 Whistler

This morning we said goodbye to Mark, Liz and Emmie.  It was good to see them.  We’ll probably next see them back home, in Perth.  Mark dropped us off at the airport on his way to work (out of his way to work) and Dan picked up the hire car he’d booked.  Dan drove us to Whistler.

 

 

The mountains are huge.  We are used to piddly little things in Ontario.  Not only were individual runs kilometres long but they had various types of snow along the way; near the peaks the snow was compact and fluffy and easy to use edges on, half-way down it was wet and there was cloud reducing visibility, toward the bottom it was slushy.  The rocks and trees are beautiful though, what I imagined Canada to look like.

I think we only managed three runs the whole afternoon. The lifts take at least 10 minutes; we had an extended lift ride when we took a Peak to Peak lift across from Whistler to the mountain that begins with a B.  It dangles down through the mist and back up again.  It would’ve been a really enjoyable ride if I wasn’t gagging from the exhaled cigarette smoke breath of the guy that shared our gondola.  I’ve been easily nauseated this week (maybe I’m pregnant!?) and when he got in I should’ve jumped out.

We have two double beds in our room and have spent the evening after dinner catching up on work, each on our own island of white linen softness.  I dropped my glasses at some point in the day and one of the plastic things that stops metal from poking the side of my nose has disappeared, so now my glasses hurt my face as sharp metal sticks into the side of my nose.  My body is still on Toronto time so I’m struggling to stay up, after having woken at 05:00 this morning.  I had even passed out in the car for an hour on the way up.  So lucky Dan volunteered to drive.  Forever.

Dinner tonight was OK.  A restaurant called 21.  Their signature salad was delicious.  I had a pork medallion under mushroom ravioli which was a bit salty and creamy.  Maybe if we’d had a full day skiing instead of half a day it would’ve hit the spot.  I shouldn’t have topped it off with a crème brûlée.  Next time we come we’ll have to book a week and come with friends.  The evening would be a perfect time to play board games.

All the ski stores have massive reductions for end of season sales.  It’s very tempting to purchase ex-rental skis and some new boots.  We’ve got a whole other season ahead of us in Toronto.  I could even buy a pair of ski pants that fit (somehow I didn’t realise that the pants I bought were made for an American basketballer, or at least somebody over six foot in height).  Dan found another pocket in his fashionable down jacket today.  Such fancy clothes they have in the Northern Hemisphere!  Pocket fiesta.

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