Mooning and Cranx

Three days in Whistler, and I have returned to a rainy Vancouver city. I had visited Conor, Fran and Adam. They moved up to Canada’s premier ski resort in the end of May and love it. I can see why.

I began the 2 ½ hour journey from Vancouver on Friday night, after work. I was full of cold, and not particularly looking forward to a busy weekend in some ways. I didn’t feel very well, but I had already missed a trip North due to a landslide and wasn’t going to postpone any longer.

Adam met me at the bus stop, and we headed for the bar where Conor works. Whistler was very similar in style to the other ski resort I had visited in Quebec, Mont Tremblant. It had a very surreal feel, with mainly pedestrian streets, hardly a shred of litter on the floor, and all the buildings perfect and quaint. It doesn’t seem real and, at the height of summer holiday season, is packed with vacationers and therefore a very fun and carefree place.

On the Saturday, we were hoping to go to the first National Cheese Rolling Festival. It is basically a silly race, where a wheel of cheese is rolled down a steep bank, and everyone has to chase after it, causing hilarious pandemonium. Unluckily for us, a waitress incorrectly told us that the festival was finished, so we changed our plans, when actually it had just been moved to a place we didn’t know about.

It wasn’t a problem; we headed for the BMX competition – The Cranworx. For the best part of the afternoon we watched skilled riders pulling back-flips, supermen, front-flips and many more tricks I hadn’t heard of. It was spectacular, and we were cheering on a British guy who came a close second. The winner performed a ridiculous double back-flip, to the delight of a packed crowd at the base of Whistler Mountain.

Afterwards, we went back to the house. With a few beers to prepare us for a monumental night, we settled into the hot tub and relaxed. This is the life in Whistler! A few of Fran, Conor and Adam’s friends came round and we all got ready for the Full Moon Party. This is basically a party out in the middle of The Interpretative Forest, a few miles outside of Whistler. It happens once a month (at the full moon, surprisingly), and carries on all through the night.

The party was immense. We arrived well after midnight, and in the pitch black could only see a psychedelic projected screen, and a DJ booth on the back of a truck. People were dancing, the music was blaring and fire dancers lit up clearing that we were in. As the night grew old and the morning came, we sat on a log at a rushing river a small distance through the trees, and watched the sun rise from behind the mountains. It was quite a surreal experience, it can be said.

Needless to say, Sunday was almost a write-off. We did make it to Lost Lake, where families and groups of friends were taking in the scorching sun (it was hotter than the Mediterranean!), swimming in the water, playing guitars and just relaxing on the grass. It was a great finish to a fantastic weekend. I hope to go back again, work, money and time permitting.

In other news Mat was in Vancouver for a few days, passing through on a mammoth road trip. He had hired a car with some of his friends and driven across the breadth of the country. We went out for a night, and reminisced about the time we met. In reality, I have only known Mat cumulatively for only a few days, but we have kept in touch throughout the year. Before this weekend, I had only seen him once since last November, and it was great comparing how our paths had been made over the course of the year. It was funny how we had both started in the same place, at the same time, and had such different experiences.