Checking into Whistler, Canada. Eh?

Every once in a while I’ll log into The Wandering Duck (this travel blog) and pout at the loneliness that it clearly feels for being so neglected. Do not worry little citizen journalism device because yesterday I dusted off the old passport (not that it accumulated much dust in 3 months) and set off for the land up north, where quizzically, many sound like they’re from the land down-under. Almost every winter my wonderfully giving family invites me to tag along on their out-of-control winter adventures. This year the Wolfes and I are kickin’ back in Whistler, Canada, one of the most premier ski and snowboard towns in the world in a SICK house in the hills above the downtown.

The flight from Portland (PDX) to Vancouver B.C. (YVR) was much shorter than I expected. I suppose every flight seems short after my 16 hour flights and 21 hour bus rides this summer. Speaking of my summer travels, the man I sat next to on the compact jet up to Canada, who was currently on his way to Seoul, South Korea, had just returned from Argentina where his company was attempting to persuade the Argentinian government to allow them to builf stem cell research centers in Buenos Aires. Good luck: If Argentina doesn’t allow abortion I can’t see the country giving the OK to a stem cell center going up in the capital. A big bonding moment with the stranger though, I get so excited when talking about Argentina (when am I going back?).

I met Jess, Matt, Mindy and Tom at carousel 33 once they touched down and after locating the rental car kiosk we were off through British Columbia. Vancouver looks a lot like Portland; its really beautiful and I wish we could have spent some time downtown. But the drive to Whistler was jaw-dropping. It DID look like a scene from Twilight… but once I got over that recognition I really enjoyed it. We finally arrived at the house around 3, listened to the whole concierge diddy and tour, and set off to the grocery store to stock the fridge (cart usage was 25 cents, and when leaving, a man who I thought was nicely taking the cart back to its home for me, totally swiped it. He had done this before!). Ate at Nagomi Sushi around 6:30 where I was able to legally order my first Canada beer. Unfortunately it was a Sapporo Draft, a Japanese imported beer, but who was I to complain? I hadn’t been able to have a beer with dinner since Rosario!

The rest of night 1 consisted of hot tub explosions, steam room lounges, and Matt kicking my butt at NBA Live ’08 on the PS2 (until I discovered Kobe’s far superior dunking abilities, I shall not be beaten so easily tonight).

Woke up today around 7:30 to shower and prepare for the mountain. After a delicious breakfast of eggs, bacon, bagels, and of course, my daily coffee with french vanilla creamer, the friendly ski butler brought our gear for the day. I was pretty easy, I flew my boots and only needed a board. Very nice guy, serious Canada accent. What was that aboot? ZING.

Geared Up for Whistler and Blackcomb 2010

Gondolas are GREAT. They’re inside, relatively warm, and there is no awkwardly kicking of your fellow chair mates while hanging your board-strapped leg off an ice-crusted chair lift chair. Makes me want to board the alps, I’m pretty sure there are walk on gondolas up the wazoo. During the first half of the day Matt, Uncle Tom and I ran the Whistler side of the mountain until lunch and jumped over to Blackcomb for the second half. Snow on Blackcomb was heavenly: not so thick that it trips (which I am more prone to than most) but just enough to make it easier to carve. Had a few good tumbles and tummy slides. My falls however seem to happen more frequently when I am zoning out on flat connector runs (I call them my spaz biffs) rather than the lip-biting, steep, monsters, which I did pretty good on today. Cannot wait for no class Fridays winter term where my weekends will be inevitably mountain bound. Did bruise a rib pretty bad. DON’T MAKE ME LAUGH! Or breathe…

Cannot wait for tonight. Steaks in the house followed by annual “fam pong” tournament and a Sing Off watch party. Don’t forget aboot me while I’m gone, keep a’hold of your loonies and your toonies, and eat some maple syrup or something.

Poke the Canadian

(because I just can’t help it)

• Question: What does a Canadian say when you step on his foot?

Canadian: “Sorry!”

• U2 is performing a concert in Halifax, Nova Scotia, when Bono asks the audience for some quiet. Then, in the silence, he starts to slowly clap his hands.

He says into the microphone, in a deep solemn voice: “Just for a moment, think outside yourself…Outside this arena. Every time I clap my hands, a child in Africa dies.”

A loud Newfie voice from near the front pierces the moment: “Well, Lard tunderin Jasus, ya stupid arse, stop yer fockin’ clappin’, den!”

• How many Canadians does it take to screw in a light bulb? Just one, and a bottle of whiskey (has to wait for the room to spin…).

Credit to Patriotism Canada, Top 10 Canadian Jokes Ever

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