|Lions Gate Bridge going North, looking East up Burrard Inlet|
|Looking North West|
We got to Whistler in the dark, and after checking in to our modest accomm, we quickly went in search of a pub. It was chilly out! Writing this blog post, Matthew and I couldn't remember what was so hilarious about this sign, but we figured it must be that the whole street outside the pub was deserted, and it was -2 degrees C, and this sign was just hanging there in the freezing cold.
|In the Brewhouse there is a little model train that runs the perimeter of the pub. It rattled past above Matthew's head once every 5-10 minutes.|
If you have been following this blog, you will know that Matthew and I have become James Bond connoisseurs in 2012, watching all of the films ever made (even making it half an hour into the dreadful Peter Sellers version!) and reading a couple of the Fleming novels which we found for mere dollars at the local second-hand bookstore. So we were pretty keen to see this one. We both enjoyed it, I think. Actually, any action movie in which I do not instantly fall asleep we call a triumph.
When we awoke on Saturday morning, this was the sight that greeted us from the motel balcony:
|Whistler Village playground on the Village Stroll|
|Matthew in the Blackcomb Adventure Zone in the Upper Village|
|Whistler Village Stroll|
(Also, Matthew encouraged me to purchase a second pair of gorgeous vintage leather made-in-Canada cowboy boots, in a hearty brown with white-stitched detail. I was in fact wearing my black made-in-Canada cowboy boots at the time. The shop was called 'The Beach'. It also sold $160-gumboots. So much ironic about the situation. ...Thank you, Matthew! You know me so well.)
By 4pm it was looking close to dark and feeling close to freezing, so we popped back into the Brewhouse, pulled our hats off our mussed hair, and had a warming shiraz.
On our way back to the motel, we decided to explore the amenities. We lucked upon the hot tub and discovered it agreeably empty of fellow patrons. I was in there like a shot, turning a bright lobster shade within 5 minutes, but Matthew discovered he'd packed regular cotton shorts instead of boardies so he sat on the edge with his legs in up to the knee. The hot tub was covered by a roof, but not protected by walls, so there was a pleasant chill which made the heat bearable for much longer than I usually manage when I go to the local community pool.
Later we ventured to the Village Square for dinner; we hadn't booked or really made any plans at all. There was the Cornucopia Food & Wine Festival on, but our lack of planning meant that we didn't really come in contact with it.The walk back from dinner to motel, despite our many layers of winter-appropriate clothing, was appallingly cold. We practically jogged.
On Sunday morning we checked out and headed to the Upper Village for breakfast at the Milestones there. We had learnt our lesson about battling the breakfast crowds in the Lower Village the day before, and as we anticipated, Upper Vill was pleasantly empty of fellow tourists. As we breakfasted and gazed out the window, we witnessed a small but persistent flurry of real snow, which never came down seriously enough to stay on the ground.
After breakfast we walked about one third of the way up the bare and icy Blackcomb mountain. The ground was dry and hard, and the ice had expanded and lifted the soil curiously above the rocks. The grass was crispy but not slippery. The snowflakes continued the whole time, but never landing.
|A long dry frozen puddle, and me.|
|Looking back down the mountain towards the Upper Village.|
On our way back down the hill, we discovered a mountain bike trail which wound around a creek with a several pretty waterfalls and was all covered by forest. Matthew found some dramatic icicles.
Our last views of Whistler were rather gloomy, but that just made the blue skies of the day before seem even more magical.
When we got back to South Granville we decided to nip down to Broadway for a coffee, and lo and behold, we ran into Carolyn and Aunty Lorraine! We had an impromptu catch-up and plotted Christmas-related plans (because it nearly 'tis the season!!)
Funny story: last weekend was Carolyn's birthday, and she is the last of all us girls to leave her teens. So proud of her for making it out in one piece! I hadn't seen for probably months, and so I took her to lunch. ...Then I saw her the next day while I was waiting in a sunbeam for the 99 bus. ...And then Matthew and I ran into her again yesterday at the coffee shop! Clearly we are on each others' radar!
Lastly, my most heartfelt thank you to Matthew for a calm and picturesque weekend away.