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.

Whistler while you work

I have to admit, I haven't managed anything of too much interest to the outside world recently. Mat was over from Toronto. He'd hired a car, driven for eight days, and stayed in a few places along the way. Of course, he had managed to test the extent of the nightlife and gambling in choice cities such as Saskatoon and Winnipeg.

Talking of nightlife, I have become a little reacquainted with the beast. Firstly, with the Irish contingent at work, and now with Mat visiting. I can stretch to these few nights recently but I won't make a habit of it. For a start, it means I have nothing to write on here! I am beginning to recall the vast expense that comes with entry to a club and the furore beforehand.

So a Friday night of festivities managed to waste the best part of my weekend, and create a dent in my bank balance too. Thankfully, I could revert to halving any dollars to figure out how much it could have been had I been spending pounds. This usually warrants a huge sigh of relief.

This weekend, I'll be back into productive mode. I have purchased my tickets to Whistler mountain today, and am looking forward to meeting Conor, Fran and Adam in their hot-tubbed 'castle' at the famous ski resort. Saturday will be the First Annual National Cheese Rolling Festival, and the weather forecast is promising, so bring it on!

It means a thankful break from writing, although I have to admit that launched my text-based assault on the world gives a fantastic feeling that I am actually doing something for once! As of today, I am up keeping two blogs (this one, and http://grahamcreid.blogspot.com/), writing two entries per week for http://www.vagablogging.net/, writing countless replies via email and Facebook, and the pinnacle of my life to come - my novel. I have definitely regained a love for the written word, after becoming disillusioned post-university.

Per the previous paragraph, tonight I am currently all written out, and this entry is merely a jotting down of the basics of my current existence. My throat is sore, my head is thumping, and I am due a hot chocolate and a bath to suit.

So, to celebrate my poor attempts at Gaelic this afternoon; Slán agus beannacht leat (Goodbye and blessings on you).

Whale of a time *cough*

What a long weekend it was. From a rainy, muggy week at work to a fantastic, sun-bleached adventure into the Gulf Islands.

SWAP had managed to organise their best meet-up yet, whale watching. I have to admit it was breathtaking. Tom, Astrid and I caught the bus from downtown early Saturday morning, and made our way to Steveston Quay. It was quite amusing to hear the tour-bus driver commenting on the ancient buildings as we were taken through the quaint fishing town (which, at one point, housed the largest fishing fleet in North America). I was aware that I had lived in houses older than the buildings that we were being shown! History in North America is all a bit more modern, I have found.

Once we had boarded the boat, it took us two hours to actually get to the location of a sighted whale pod. We actually ventured into United States’ waters, down to the south point of San Juan Island. On the way, we passed California Sea Lions, a cormorant breeding colony, and majestic Bald Eagles, who glided overhead and perched on the rocky shore.

Actually reaching, and seeing, the whales was the icing on the cake. Many trips venture out and never manage to find the fantastic orcas, and we were still a little before whale season, so I kept my hopes purposefully lower.

Once we found the pod, they put on a show of tail whips, spy-dips (sticking their nose out of the water so they can see the surrounding area), and rolls. It was almost as if they were showing off for us.

It took us a while to locate the patriarch, Ruffles. He was slightly separated from the rest of his pod, and not as energetic as the younger whales. When we found him, it was straight away obvious that he was much bigger than the other orcas. His dorsal fin was huge, and he came very close to the boat to show it off.

After this fantastic experience, I went to Kitsilano Beach to take advantage of the scorching weather a bit more. I met up with some Maisie and Howard, and we braved the sea (well, paddled for a bit), and then found a nice terrace bar near the beach. This weekend has had the hottest weather of the year in Vancouver, and a local resident told me it was hotter than any weekend from last summer.


While the weather didn't manage to hold up for my extra day off on Monday, I still managed to enjoy myself. I met up with Conor, and we ended up having another fish and chips (my second of the weekend). A few pitchers of beer later, and we went for a different experience.

Conor's friend Adam told us about Hookah. We arrived at a Persian-themed bar, where you can drink herbal teas and, more importantly, sample the "calming" flavoured tobacco of the Middle East, through the use of bongs. It was quite eclectic, with the Arab music in the background, drinking our teas and inhaling the smoke. I enjoyed it actually, but doubt I'll ever need to go back!

Afterwards, we got some wine and headed back to Conor, Fran and Adam's house. We watched this ridiculous cartoon called Drawn Together. Post-smoking and drinking, it was fairly surreal watching this weird adult comedy that parodies reality TV shows!

I didn't enjoy the walk home in the early hours of the morning, or the limited sleep before work, but I'm still enjoying everything else. Next week, Whistler hopefully!