Whistler

We went to Whistler last weekend. I was originally going to snowboard but I didn’t ‘take’ to snowboarding. I did take to hitting the icy ground with my fists and swearing while trying to learn how to snowboard. So for the sake of my oh-so-patient husband (and for the sake of my hands – it hurts to hit ice!) I opted for a weekend of snowshoeing and cross country skiing instead.

I took Thursday off and kind of loafed. It was great. Instead of going to work in the morning I took a gift certificate to a salon by my work and had a pedicure and manicure. ~ Thanks, Meg! So, I had all day to pack for the long weekend, which I did. I also had all day to pack our passports. I did not pack our passports. Fortunately Abbotts asked if we all remembered our passports before we hit the road. I knew the second it was out of his mouth that I forgot them at home. It took an hour to go from the Abbotts’ in North Seattle to our house in South Seattle and back. Abbotts called to make sure I wasn’t driving like a maniac ~ can’t go on a ski trip when you’re dead.

I don’t remember exactly where we were when we encountered snow but I’m glad it was dark otherwise I would have freaked out knowing we were on a small two lane highway that was winding it’s way up a cliff – mountains on one side and a long, long way down was the ocean on the other side. Knowing you can slide off the road and plummet to your death is not a good feeling.

We arrived at the cabin, pardon me, chalet, around 1:30 in the morning. The car wouldn’t make it up the hill the last little bit to our parking spot. It drove in the snow for well over an hour and finally had enough when we were just about there. I’m really glad it waited to poop out until the very end. It really would have sucked to get stranded on the ‘side’ of the itty bitty Sea to Sky highway.

We all hit the sack shortly after arriving. Ryan & co. drew straws at work and we got the second best accommodations (a queen size bed in a private room). Well, I would call it semi-private. Sure, there were four walls but you could hear a mouse squeak two floors away!

Bright and early the next morning everyone but three girls hit the slopes. I wish I had a picture of the guys trying to help Ryan into his ski boots. At one point Ryan was lying on the floor with another guy wrestling his leg trying to get enough leverage to lock in a strap on his boot. It was really funny to watch.

Helen, Nichole and I went to the Village - (that is so much fun to say ~ "What did you do today?" "Me? Well, I went into the Village.") - to buy groceries for lunch and breakfast since we couldn't bring a lot of food across the border. Meat and cheese were forbidden items. Never mind that the grocery store sold Tillamook cheese in Whistler. We went into sticker shock in the store. OK, I went into shock. There we were, an hour and a half north of Vancouver, B.C., in the heart of the resort town known as Whistler, in the cutesy grocery store with the mood lighting, special displays of European chocolates, the deli with the special cheeses and olives and the bakery with every kind of baked good your little heart could desire and there were the price tags on the said goods. The teeny, tiny price tags. And no, I don't mean the price tag itself was small, I mean the cost was minuscule. I was in shock. Was this loaf of bread really only $0.95 ~ it wasn't on a shelf of day old stuff ~ yep, it was good. Then it really hit me. It wasn't $0.95 in American dollars. No! It was 95 cents CANADIAN dollars! It was less than 95 cents for a loaf of bread. *small side note (literally): gas was freakin' expensive but that detracts from the story of the outrageously cheap food*

Listen up Seattle-ites: We are getting hosed at the grocery store! I knew prices were more expensive in Seattle but c'mon! Does it really cost that much less to ship the food Whistler than to Seattle? I understand land and rent are not cheap in Seattle but I really don't think dirt is cheap in Whistler. Sheesh. I'm surprised Nichole and Helen didn't slap me because I wouldn't shut up about the prices.

See the pretty picture up top? I want to go back. Forget tropical vacations where you have to worry about bathing suits and diets. Winter vacations with sweaters and bulky coats are the way to go!

OK, that's all I have for now. I'll write more about our adventures in Whistler in a few days.