Today marks the two month anniversary of my return to Canada and I still can’t quite believe I’m here to be honest. Being in such a joyous state has resulted in a consequential lack of content on the ol’ bloggin’ front so I thought it was about time I drop a *hot* *new* *exxxxxxxclusive* RE: what I’ve been doing since I left Vancouver six weeks ago.
As my incessant Instagramming will show, I am pretty chuffed with my new dwellings in the picturesque resort town of Whistler Blackcomb. My original plan of heading to Sun Peaks, a ski resort near the town of Kamloops, changed rather abruptly after a sudden change of heart prior to departure. This being my second attempt at living and working in what is by far the most palatable country of them all, I am determined to make the best of every situation and not regret a single moment. Long story short, I decided against heading to Sun Peaks, mainly due to very real fears of becoming isolated again following my somewhat short-lived stint in the remote albeit picture-perfect Lake Louise.
To summarise, I went out on a (rather bloody risky) limb and decided to take my chances and head to Whistler; a stone’s throw from my beloved VanCity and an obvious choice for 20 somethings in possession of a working visa and a desire to relive their carefree, booze-fuelled Uni Lyf. Thanks to some sterling words of advice from my dorm roomie, or as she is now regarded ‘The Guardian Angel of Western Australia’ – SHOUT OUT Tanika Matic – I made the decision to go full YOLO, passing up the job in Sun Peaks to pursue the unknown in Whis.
Looking back, the 24 hours I spent deliberating my decision to sack it all off and head here, jobless, near penniless and basically clueless, were anxious times. Like, I barely ate during those 24 hours, my stomach tied up in knots thinking the worst. I was picturing myself, head in hands returning to Heathrow, having shamefully messed up my only chance to do this again.
*Ok, so spoiler, I did eat, obviously, this is me we’re talking about… But it was sad eating, you know?*
Enough of all that though, I can reveal this story has a happy ending… because that’s what you all wanted to hear after all, isn’t it? My decision to bus it to Whistler, armed with nothing but inappropriately loud retro skiwear and a fistful of CVs, was by far the biggest but the best gamble ever made in the Life of April Summers 2k17. As I write this, perched in my favourite spot in Whistler Public Library, it feels more like I’ve been here for six months than the mere six weeks it has actually been. I fear I’m beginning to sound like a cringe #MotivationalMonday meme but I have never felt more like I’m supposed to be somewhere than I do right about now. Have I just jinxed it?
Since arriving here I have been working full time in a pretty neat Aussie pie shop, have been put up in pretty neat staff accommodation with some pretty neat human beans, so generally, it has worked out pretty bloody well. Whistler appears to have everything I could possibly need; an abundance of pretentious brunch spots, a poppin’ events calendar AND an impressive array of thrift stores. Like Lake Louise, I am once again living among postcard-worthy winter scenes but this time, I am nowhere near as far out in the sticks. Instead, I am in close enough proximity to Vancouver that my city girl self won’t become too fidgety and self-combust.
For those of you lucky enough to have visited the iconic Whistler village, the following photos will serve as a wonderful reminder of the magnificent scenes on tap out here. For the rest of you, don’t just take my word for it…