Spoke too soon

Had a second day's skiing today, but this time I was skiing alone. The skies were blue, the temp was something like -16 and the snow was flat and icy, which meant that I spent much of my time bombing down at breakneck* speeds and struggling to control it. I had some really good runs, but also some bloody terrifying ones. This, combined with my bronchitis (did I mention that before? I've been coughing myself stupid for weeks and now have a pulled muscle in my left rib cage which is agony), and my recent poor sleeping record (some self-inflicted, most cough-induced), has left me feeling very down today. In fact, I cried all the way home from the ski hill on the bus. I suppose I should cut myself some slack; I've only been skiing for 2 days. But still, I'm not used to feeling scared and was really annoyed with myself for not being, well, better. Plus all my friends are snowboarders, so I don't really have anyone to talk to about it, or to go on runs with (I tried to go on a run with them today but within 2 minutes they'd disappeared into the distance in a flurry of snow, even Zander, who's only been snowboarding for just over a week but is already bombing down blue runs like he's been doing it for years).

So, in the spirit of trying to be positive, even though I don't feel it today, I'm going to have another lesson soon - Sunday hopefully if there's spaces - and try to regain my confidence. And I took this picture at the top of one of the hills today, which shows that even if I'm not any good at it, I still get to enjoy the views:


* I have a whole new appreciation for this phrase

Ski Sunday

Yesterday was my first ski lesson on a proper mountain. And it was fantastic! I am so relieved, I did feel I was taking a bit of gamble coming to live in a ski resort for 7 months without actually knowing whether or not I liked it, but fortunately it all worked out for the best. I'm afraid I was too busy learning stuff (and wearing mittens) to take pictures on the mountain so a picture of me doing the TV slalom will have to suffice. My new down jacket was a great investment as one of my biggest fears was being freezing cold all day, but in fact I was warm as toast. Even my hands stayed warm thanks to my mittens! Feet got a bit cold but that's to be expected I suppose. And thanks to Megan and the loan of her fabulous skis, I slid down that mountain a right treat, I can tell you! It was an all day lesson and though I started off rather unsteady on my feet, by the end I had those parallel turns nailed. If anything, I need to go a bit slower (my instructor reckoned that being a biker has given me confidence at speed) until my control is a bit stronger, but I only fell over 3 times, which isn't bad going, and one of those was when an old guy took me out getting off the chair lift. I'm not even hurting too badly today, and would have gone back to the slopes if I hadn't had my first training session at the steak restaurant I'm going to be working this afternoon. I've got loads of homework to do - this restaurant demands you know all about different types of cows, where the cuts of meat come from, how they're prepared, everything. Plus you have to know every single ingredient in every single dish on the menu - there's a written food test that you need to get over 90% to pass. Although I'm struggling with learning it all, I still think it's great, it's what all restaurants should do, because back home I'm fed up of crap service.

Speaking of which, I should probably try to get some more sleep in before I go. Last night was our lovely friend Mike's leaving do, as he's heading back to England to join the Army. We've all been trying to persuade him to stay, particularly as he has a Canadian passport, but he seems set on going, damn him. Although I was absolutely shattered after my day's skiing, I dragged my sorry arse out to say goodbye, intending to be out an hour or so, but ended up staying out till some godforsaken hour of the morning, when the inevitable coughing fits (I'm still coughing like a bastard after nearly 3 weeks and am beginning to wonder if I've developed bronchitis or something) kept me awake for most of the rest of the night. Anyway, photos of the love-fest in the usual place. We all love Mike, so much so that we even forgive him for being sick on our kitchen floor the other week. Bless his cottons.

Aaaahhhht clubbin'

One thing I find interesting is that you can get used to anything. Those who know me well back home will be aware that as an a) non-drinker and a b) thirty-something, going clubbing is normally my idea of hell. Thousands of drunk people squashed into a sticky-floored, minimally-seated arena; bad bad music blasting out at a thousand million decibels so you can't hear how much drivel someone is actually spouting whilst they spit copiously in your ear; interminable queues for overpriced drinks which get spilled by someone's overenthusiastic dancing the moment you turn away from the bar; elbows freely and repeatedly placed into your kidney or stomach; anonymous erections pressed into your back the moment you approach the dance floor; the constant vigilance you need to avoid the next fight breaking out/person about to vomit; the layer of sweat that soaks your every item of clothing that you're not entirely sure is all yours; the ongoing internal dialogue about whether you've endured it long enough to justify the extortionate entrance fee.

But.


I'm now, it seems, someone who goes clubbing pretty much every week. Much as all the above still remains as true as ever, I have found that being with good people (because my crowd are ACE), free soft drinks all night (I love being a non-drinker in Canada!) and dancing up a storm despite the direty of the music gets you through it. Photos of the debauchery (see here for latest) are traded as currency the following day, along with 'Do you know what YOU did last night?' 'Oh God no, what did I do? No, before you tell me, let me tell you what YOU did' and the rush to upload the evidence to facebook is often frenzied. I actually rather enjoy being the only one who remembers all of the previous night's events and whom the others look to for confirmation/clarification of the rumour mill's latest. And, as some of the photos will undoubtedly show, I believe I have proved repeatedly that I can hold my own in the fun-stakes, despite being sober as a judge.

Quite possibly pointless

Modern life, eh? I just had a fairly lengthy conversation with my flatmate Laura via facebook, whilst I'm in my bed and she's in the lounge, for no particular reason. It was fun.

Meant to say, non-facebookers can find latest photos here and here.

Can't help but be a smug bastard

First day training for my new job today and this is where I now work. Don't all be jealous now. I mean, yes, it is very beautiful, and yes, I will get to go skiing for free, and yes, I do work with cool people, and yes... well okay, you can be jealous actually. It is very cold, but then that's the price you pay for all the snow I suppose. Today it was -8 degrees up at the ski hill (a 17 minute gondola ride up from where I work) which seemed pretty bloody cold to me, but that is small fry compared to how cold it's going to get later in the season. I think I will get those battery-operated boot warmers built into my ski boots after all...

Life in Beaver Street remains damn good. Every night the gang come round and we have a spot of dinner, or sit around and watch TV (Miami Ink marathon last night) or we just debate the pertinent issues of the day. For example, a couple of nights ago, we wondered aloud if you could actually get 2 people into Gravy's fatman trousers. As you can see, the answer was a resounding yes.

Tonight, in honour of the fact that it was Bonfire Night but fireworks are illegal to buy here and we live in a National Park so we can't build fires, I decided to cook a huge chilli, which was, in Zander's words, 'gold'. Or he might have said 'cold', I'm not quite sure. Anyway, it's safe to say I'm enjoying my time here immensely.

Oh and we've finally got our wireless internet working in the flat so I'm typing this from my bed. Hurray!

Halloween & Beavers

Halloween was a debauched affair. Banff turned into Party Party Party town, where everyone but EVERYONE was dressed to the nines and out in force in the bars. Everyone had made such a fantastic effort, and though I had bought the lamest and cheapest costume I could find, it still made an impact. I arrived dressed as a ghost with my face mask at the Magpie & Stump to find Hayley and Laura, already pretty trollied, shouting 'NO FACE NO FACE! Come here to have a picture taken with us!' to me. Assuming they had realised it was me, I went over and much hugging and phototaking was had. However, five minutes later, Laura suddenly said 'And I don't even know your name!', to which I pulled off my mask and she freaked out that it was me. Ha ha. The evening passed in a blur - despite the fact that I was the only person in Banff not drinking - and contained such gems as Jamie being sick into his hat at 9.30pm and Laura shouting 'Kiss me NOW!' to some Aussie guy in the middle of the road. A good time was had by all.

Yesterday was my orientation at work, which consisted of a day listening to talks about Sunshine Village's various different departments and what they do, how not to get STDs whilst in Banff - where I won a condom holder for knowing what the second most prevalent STD in Banff was (gonorrhoea of course - I wonder what I'd have won for being able to spell it correctly?) - and a long talk about different ways you're liable to kill yourself on the mountain.

It scared the bejesus out of me. As a non-skier, I have no idea what it's like to be out there in -15 degrees hurtling down a mountain, though it sounds scary enough. However, when you are then bombarded by pictures of people with various different hideously scarring and/or life-threatening injuries, and repeated stories of 'staff members whose bodies I have pulled out from under an avalanche/under a snowcat/peeled off a tree' and 'phone calls I've had to make to parents to tell them their son/daughter isn't coming home', it makes you think twice about even trying it. I mean, I know that's why I came here, and I also know that thousands and thousands of people ski every day without killing themselves, but I'm still getting nervous about it.

Then I headed back to Banff on the bus, picked up my bags and headed down the hill to my new home, on Beaver Street. Many people have pointed out that, given my job back home, I pretty much already live on Beaver Street, but now it's official. The house may not look like much from the outside, but my room is twice the size of the other girls (yay!) and I have a big comfy double bed. I already know one of my roomies, Laura, who travelled over from the UK to Vancouver with me back in September, but met the other girls last night, Chelsea (Aussie) and Jess (Canadian) and they're cool. Of course I immediately began doing a big clean, to which the others looked on in total bemusement. "Is the landlady coming over?" When I told them I was cleaning for myself, because I wanted to be able to cook/clean myself in a clean environment, I was given some odd looks. I pointed out that they've clearly never owned their own place. But hey, they're very young yet.

Despite the 'no visitors after 10.30pm' rule, we had visitors till around 11.30pm - ha! - Kate & Chris, who both moved into their respective places yesterday too, and Dave & Zander, who are living in the flat below us, so we ate dinner, watched Gladiator, tried to get the wireless internet up and running but failed (though we can hard wire it), and chatted about stuff and things. Damn good start to the living arrangements.

Homemore

After a hectic morning where I got up, packed up my stuff at the HI Hostel, checked out and put my bags in a locker, I found myself rocketing down Tunnel Mountain Road (fyi: steep & long) at breakneck speed in order to meet up with a woman called Elaine who I thought might be able provide me with somewhere to live. She runs a gift shop in town and has a house on Beaver Street – oh yes really – which she rents out room by room. The upstairs is a self-contained 4 bedroom flat for girls only (yay! Boys smell) and the downstairs, also self-contained, is mixed. My friend Laura has already secured a room in the upstairs flat and the Aussie guys, Dave/Gravy & Zander, were in the running for one of the downstairs rooms, so I thought it would be a cool place to rent. It was pleasant enough – 2 bathrooms for the 4 of us so that’s always a bonus – and the room was large, furnished and going for a reasonable price (there was even a deer sat in the garden outside the bedroom window - awwww) , so I kept my fingers and everything else crossed. Sure enough, Elaine liked me enough to offer me the room. Hurrah! I had to to run back up Tunnel Mountain road to collect my stuff and meet up with Chris, then back down the hill again to the SameSun hostel to meet the others, then over the other end of town to get out the huge deposit from the bank, back to the gift shop to sign the lease before running to meet the Calgary bus with 5 mins to spare... phew!

So I’m no longer homeless come 1^st November, which is also, coincidentally, the day I start work up at Sunshine Village; what a weight off. As a bonus, Gravy & Zander also got offered the room downstairs, so we’re all going to be a big happy family.

My buttocks hurt now*.

*reading this back this could appear to be a reference to how I secured the room. It isn't. It merely reflects the running up and down hills I did all day. Just wanted to make that abundantly clear.

Par-ty boombaya

So far life in Banff has been an endless round of going out, getting to bed at stupid o'clock, rolling out of bed late and doing it all again. Funnily enough, this is exactly what I didn't come to Banff for, although I must admit to the fact that I'm sort of, quite, almost enjoying it.

The main reason I've taken an about turn is that this is a small community and it's pretty important to go with the flow and socialise because you don't want to isolate yourself from the group. Who else would you hang out with? This is just not a 'dinner party' type of town for those of us who are just passing through. However, I should point out that I have not succumbed to peer pressure and started drinking, and I have bailed out earlier than the others on a couple of occasions (usually to go back and make contact with home on MSN +/- webcam).

The crowd here have surprised me in some respects. Although yes, they do like to go out and have a few beers and yes, sometimes they do it to some degree of excess, they are such a nice, intelligent, adventurous bunch of people and I'm really rather fond of them all. Last night, we went to a 'Pizza for $9' evening at the Elk & Oarsman (pizza was great), and we ended up having a long conversation about spelling and punctuation. Everyone agreed that a) txt spk is stupid b) using the wrong spelling of a word such as they're/their/there is unforgivable c) exclamation marks are best used in moderation and that d) the correct use of a semi-colon was tantamount to foreplay. Not really the kind of discussion I expected to be having with a bunch of long-haired snowboarders. And most of them don't even have long hair!

We do already have a whole bunch of in-jokes that have added to the camaraderie, which I shall no doubt repeat oft when I am back home and look wistful when I received puzzled looks in reply ("You don't even know!" "I saw that!" "I can do physics!" "Dude! Dude? Dude... Dude! Hmm. You make a good point"), mainly brought to the group by Gravy & Zander, two engineers/climbers from Australia, who are worthy contributors and have a huge truck called Stacey, whose services they'll happily pimp.

The only spanner in the works just now is that the accommodation I had lined up has fallen through and so I'm now, along with every other bugger in Banff, looking for somewhere to rent on my (very meagre) salary-to-be. It is virtually impossible to find somewhere, and each room has around 100 applicants at present. I have friends who were considering sharing a double bed with someone they'd just met for $600 a month - that's how crap it is. Add to that a 6-month lease which is hard to get out of at most places and pretty much everywhere has a 'no visitors' clause (that's not a 'no one to stay with you clause' but a 'no one allowed round to see you at any time, even for a quick cup of tea' clause). So I'll be in the hostel (where I still find it almost impossible to sleep) for the foreseeable future, which is not a happy prospect just now. Goddamnit!

The Banff Chronicle w/c 15th October 2007

I've not been able to upload new pictures to facebook or my blog the last few days, because although I get free wireless here at the hostel, it's a bit on the slow and unreliable side. I'll do my best to get pictures up here today and the rest on facebook as soon as I can.

Here's what I've been up to:

The first night I was here I went out with my new BFFs: Kate (Aussie, from Perth), James (Aussie, from somewhere near Canberra) and Chris (English, from Woking!). We went on a pub crawl and they didn't mind one bit that I wasn't drinking, in fact, James wasn't drinking either, thought that was because he was broke. Still, we had a great night and ended up back at my hostel bar till around 1.30am (I'm a dirty stopout!)

Next evening we met up again where I persuaded everyone to come up to the hot springs, and we stayed till 10pm getting very warm, while the air around us got very cold. It was excellent.

Wednesday morning I had my job interviews for Sunshine Village at their hiring clinic (along with basically the entire transient population of Banff). You have an initial screening interview where they decide what sort of positions you'd be suitable for and then pass you on to the supervisors of those departments for more specific questions. I had 3 interviews, one for Food & Beverage Server, one for the Ski School and one for Guest Services. I got the one I wanted, which was Guest Services, which basically involves working for the ticket office doing ticket sales and season passes, that sort of thing. I asked for part-time, so I'll be working there weekends and I plan to supplement the rest of the time with 2-3 nights working in a restaurant/bar in town, giving me the weekdays to learn to ski. I've been provisionally offered something at a restaurant called Saltlik, which looks nice, but I'm going to have another look around tomorrow to see what else is out there.

So job is kinda sorted, but still have somewhere to live to find. Accommodation is a nightmare to find here - I know people who are sharing double beds with near-strangers for an extortionate rent in order to get something - so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my lead from back home - my friend Cindy's brother-in-law who's living and working out here - comes off. I'm meeting him on Sunday to discuss. If that falls through, I'm a bit buggered!

Today the groovy gang and I headed out to Lake Louise and Johnston's Canyon for a day trip. Annoyingly, despite a beautiful blue sky this morning, by the time we arrived at Lake Louise the cloud had come down so I couldn't see much more of it that I could when I want there with Darrell a few weeks ago. Still amazing though, and at least this time we had snow so we could all get a bit excited!* Chris got a bit over-excited in fact, and decided to go for a paddle in the glacial waters. They were 'pretty cold' apparently.

Hostel life is a mixed bag. I quite like the social element - even though it's a bit 'party party party' for my tastes - and it's so easy to meet people you feel like you have a ready made group of friends, which is handy when you're alone in a strange place. We've all pretty much been doing the same things - going for jobs at Sunshine or in town, looking for accommodation - which has lent a certain camaraderie to proceedings. But I'm struggling with sharing a bedroom with 5 other girls, lovely though they all are. I've had no more than a handful of hours sleep since I've been here, because someone is always coming in late and/or drunk, trying to open doors and bags quietly and falling over when trying to climb into their bunks. Sometimes it's me. And there's always people wandering up and down the corridors talking loudly at 4am, while I lie there, imagining sticking something very sharp into their eyeballs. I feel can't really relax, hate communal bathrooms and am mistrustful of other people's washing up in the communal kitchen. Oh and pretty much everyone is so much younger than me I feel like an old mother hen at times (though it's nice when I get carded in the bars and everyone so far has been amazed at how old I am - Chris demanded to see my driving licence and still maintains it's a clever forgery. Bless him.) And as if to prove my point, it's Friday night and I'm sat in my bunk playing on the internet because everyone else is out on a pub crawl and I couldn't face it tonight. I'm just so tired from not really sleeping, I thought I'd sit this one out.

So that's me so far. Banff is really really beautiful and I literally can't stop taking pictures of the surrounding mountains, because I almost can't believe they're real. I'm excited to be living here, looking forward to starting work and learning to ski (oh I get a free ski pass with my new job - did I mention that?) and have met some lovely people. But I get lonely and homesick too at times, so it's nice to hear from home if you have a moment?

*Snow = skiing/snowboarding = jobs starting = money

New life begins in earnest

I've made it to Banff, struggled with my two suitcases, skis and poles, rucksack, handbag AND a stick of french bread (I needed something to nibble on on the journey), made 3 friends on the bus - James, Kate and Chris - who I hope to meet for drinks tonight (haven't mentioned I don't drink yet, I'm not sure they'll take it well), lined up an interview on Wednesday with Sunshine (the biggest ski resort in the area), had an email from the other job I applied for telling me to expect to hear from them shortly if I've been selected for interview (and why the hell wouldn't I be?), found my hostel and chosen my bunk (top bunk - a pain to get into but more privacy). Phew! Quite a day so far. And with excellent timing, Darrell has finally sent me that picture of me in my Bond Girl bikini at the Banff Hot Springs (my local pool now dahlinks) so I thought I'd pass it on to you.

Although I'm not keen on dorm accommodation, I've just found out one of the English girls in my room has got a job working for Gap in the mall. Did anyone say discount?

Canada vs. England

Five reasons why Canada is better than England:

1. The scenery - and the weather - is far more dramatic. That's not say that England's rolling greenery isn't lovely, because it is, but you can't beat a huge mountain towering above you, let alone a series of the damn things. With snow. That you can actually ski on.
   
2. The service you get in shops and restaurants is far better than back home. People actually seem to want you to get what you want and be happy. I'm not used to that. I mean, if people just refrain from scowling at you when you are giving them your custom back home you think you've been blessed.
   
3. They have Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis. Okay, I haven't seen them yet, but I live in hope and I bet when I do they'll be bloody brilliant.
4. The supermarkets are huge, and as you may know, I love a huge supermarket. I can spend hours wandering round them looking at a load of old nonsense - thermal underwear, cheap electrical goods, gardening equipment - and not buying a thing.
5. Property is still cheap enough that a young couple can buy a 4 bedroomed, 2 bathroomed, huge basemented 'starter home'. As it should be. I have amazed many a Canadian with tales of how much my tiny 1 bed flat is worth.
   

Five reasons why England is better than Canada:

1. The supermarkets may be huge but most of the food in them is processed and over-packaged rubbish. I feel guilty and wasteful just looking at half of it. And you can't buy loads of stuff you get back home: proper sausages, for example. Or any kind of decent cheese, which is deeply ironic given that back home, I buy Canadian Cheddar because it kicks ass. You can't get oxo cubes. And you can't buy gravy granules unless you go to the British Import Store in the West Edmonton Mall and pay nearly $6 for them...*
2. You have to have a car here to get anywhere. Having spent the best part of a month without one, I know how true that is. When Darrell was here, we tried to take the bus from Leduc, where Megan & Craig live, into the nearest big city, Edmonton. It took us just over an hour to walk to the bus stop, $17 each for a ticket, a 45 min journey time and there was only 1 bus back so if you miss that, or it's at an inconvenient time, you're buggered. If you do try to walk, the place is just not geared up for pedestrians. Often you have to take massive detours just to cross a road, or there's no crossing at all. And of course if you cross where there's no crossing, you're technically committing the crime of jaywalking (but I love being naughty!) And the distances are so big. The Canadians think nothing of driving 2 hours for a quick visit somewhere. You look on a map and think, oh, that's just over there, but then you find out that it's a 12 hour drive! At least England is manageably small.
   
3. You think Starbucks are ubiquitous back home? You should see it here: they're everywhere - and most of them are drive-thrus. I actually thought Megan was joking when she first mentioned a drive-thru Starbucks, but nope. I've had to relax my stance on not buying from them simply because there's little other choice. The other big coffee company here is called Tim Horton's and even though the coffee is fairly mediocre, the queues at the drive-thru (natch) have to be seen to be believed. Megan tells me in all seriousness that they put something addictive in their coffee so people keep coming back; I'm inclined to believe her.
4. There are very few independent restaurants or shops over here, they're all big chains. This means that every time you go to a mall or retail park (because there aren't really 'high streets' to speak of so that's where you go to shop), you get the same few shops over and over. At least you know what you're getting, I suppose (though Vancouver did have some cool independently-owned places to be fair). It's the kooky little restaurants back home more than anything that I miss. Particularly curry houses, because it's not really a big thing over here and so I've not had any since I was home.
5. Telly. Oh how I miss English telly, as I knew I would. They may have a gazillion different channels out here, but they largely show rubbish all day and night. Rubbish, interspersed every 5 minutes by adverts. I tend to look through to try to find English stuff - How to Look Good Naked and Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmare's have kept me almost sane - but it's nearly all American drama/action series, which is not really my cup of tea. Most of them are incomprehensible and/or packed full of clichés. Amusingly though, there's a big glut of English stars out here at the moment, and it never fails to make me smile wryly when I see Michelle Ryan (her off of Eastenders) playing The Bionic Woman with a - it has to be said - flawless American accent. Still, I can't shake off the image of her selling polyester blouses on a market stall, even when she's dropkicking a baddy. So I miss good English comedy and decent documentaries very much indeed. If you do see anything brilliant, please tell me, because there's lots of places online to watch them these days and I can try to track them down...

Oh and a quick mention goes to Greyhound, the bus service out here and the USA, who have screwed me over. I tried to buy my ticket to Banff online and it kept saying that it wouldn't process just now, could I try again later please? Eventually, after trying both my visa & debit cards, I gave up trying and Megan gave me a lift to the bus station to buy my ticket in person. However, the failed web purchases found their way onto my statements anyway, where, to date, they have taken an erroneous $200 from the 2 cards with a further $100 pending. On speaking to a customer service representative in Texas at length about this, after being passed from pillar to post around Canada first of course, I've been told that no, they've not taken any money from me at all. Oh, well, that's alright then. Other than the fact that you actually have. You bastards. Now I have to wait 15 days (for no particular reason) then send them copies of my statements to prove that they've stolen money from me and then they'll review it, and think about whether or not they'll return it, given that they don't believe that they have taken it in the first place because it's not on their system. Well it sure as heckfire is on mine, baby. Meh.

*A special prize goes to anyone who can name the three dishes I've cooked for Megan & Craig - a.k.a. Craigan - recently based on the clues provided. Jen, surely this should be easy for you?

Bruised, scratched, deaf and flushed down a toilet

Today, Megan* & I visited the West Edmonton Mall again (3rd time I've been there and I still haven't seen it all!) to spend the afternoon to the World Waterpark. As well as a huge beach-style pool with wave machine, there are loads of waterslides, which we partook of with gusto. At first, only the Twister and the Corkscrew were open, so naturally we went on them several times each. On one of my goes on the Corkscrew, I got so overexcited when it was time for me to ride that I forgot to bend down quick enough and whacked my head hard on the top of the slide. A lovely big bump (and possible slight concussion?) resulted, much to Megan's amusement, sorry, I meant concern. Having learnt my lesson after my first major dunking, I did my best to hold my nose towards the end on each occasion, though sometimes this was easier said than done - when I went on Nessie's Revenge, my desperate, disorientated scrabbling for my face as I could see the end approaching resulted in my scratching my face up the right side of my nose. How terribly attractive!

Then, while we were having a sit down on the beach after a spell in the hot tub, we heard the whooosh of water and realised they were opening up all the big, scary slides. Excellent! I immediately climbed the seemingly infinite number of stairs to the Sky Screamer, which did exactly what it says on the tin. It's a breathtaking, almost-sheer drop from the off, which then levels off into an aquaplane which has a tendency to deposit water where you really don't want it. Nuff said. (If you look at the picture above it's the 2 red tubes on the right-hand side.) I loved it and went on twice more, though Megan, having been on it during a previous trip, felt that once had been quite enough.

Tropical Typhoon was to be next, a short tube which catapults you full pelt into a giant funnel, in which you zoom round and round before dropping down the hole in the middle into a plunge pool. This was deeply unpleasant. Not only did I manage to somehow end up falling head first through the hole, but I now know exactly how a poo feels when being flushed down a toilet.

So several hours later, wet, weary and with ears so full of water I literally couldn't hear a thing, we departed the mall. It was bloody brilliant.


We popped home to get showered and changed before going to Yianni's Greek restaurant on Whyte Ave for dinner (I had the chicken souvlaki, which was lovely), followed by deep fried ice-cream at Julio Barrio's next door for desert, where we hung spoons off our noses for no particular reason. Or at least, I did but - as this photo proves - Megan totally cheated.

Bloody hell but it's windy here tonight. I'm in bed and keep thinking the house will blow away. We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto...

*to say Megan is a trooper would be an understatement: most of the day trips we've taken, as today, she has worked a nightshift the night before and manages to last a whole day on about 2 hours sleep. I've no idea how she does it.

Giving thanks

We spent the weekend at Craig's parents' for Canadian Thanksgiving. They live in a small town, with both Craig's sister's within walking distance (which, given that this is Canada where they drive EVERYWHERE, is a very short distance indeed) and each household has a pug: Kiddy, Dusty and Bugsy. I've never entirely trusted anything that could lick their own nose (sorry Jen) but they are very cute, if a bit over-excitable and snorty. Pictures at the usual place.

We started the morning today at the River Rock Grill where, as you can see, they specialise in Family 'Dinning'. Spelling errors aside, they did a mean breakfast and my pancakes were as light and fluffy as a cloud (far better than the ones Darrell attempted when he was here - sorry Daz but they were dire). I chatted to Auntie Debbie, who is alright in my book* because she's a big fan of Location, Location, Location and anyone who loves Phil and Kirsty must be sound.

A walk of the dogs later, we headed over to...now I'm not sure whose farm it was - some of Craig's relatives or family friends? - to go and look at their lynxes. Yes. They live in cages in the (huge) garden, and though one of them is pretty wild, the other was actually hand reared along with the house cats so is quite tame. Then we drove over to Auntie Debbie & Uncle Dave's for lunch, only to be confronted by their 2 dogs, several cats, 3 horses, a llama and several hundred bunny rabbits running free in the yard, not to mention the 17 members of extended family. I admit to being a little overwhelmed by it all.

Lunch was fantastic. We had deep-fried turkey (oh yes) which was phenomenal. Why don't we always cook turkey this way? Very tender and delicious, with the most amazing crispy skin which - oh but my family will be sooo jealous here - no one else seemed that bothered about eating. Megan even went as far as saying it was 'disgusting'. And so I had the run of the crispy skin and the oh so gorgeous crispy bits around the wings and...oh it was heaven. In addition to the turkey there was a huge ham, potatoes and gravy, peas, a million and one different types of salad and - and this is where it got a bit too strange for me - strawberries in jelly and rice pudding. Which was to go, apparently, with the turkey. Hmmm. And they thought I was odd for eating all the crispy turkey bits. Pumpkin pie followed, naturally, which was just as I imagined it (not sure if I've ever had it before) and absolutely superb.

I had done my research on Canadian Thanksgiving and discovered that it was first introduced by the explorer Martin Frobisher, who sat down in 1578 to give thanks for not dying in the harsh wilderness that was (and still is in many parts) Canada, while he was actually trying to find a way to get to China (thanks Wikipedia!) So, thinking it would lend me a certain amount of kudos amongst my kind hosts, I raised my punch for a toast to the said Mr Frobisher, only to be greeted by a sea of blank stares. No one, it seems, had heard of him, or knew exactly why they were sitting down to this delicious meal.

Ah well, it's the turkey that counts.

*'Who's Alright by Me: how to judge a book by its cover' by Mia Davies neé Fothergill

Newest member of the family

Isn't it amazing how one little gadget can make you so happy? Not content with treating myself to new ski boots and a trio of cardigans at Gap in the last couple of weeks, not to mention an extended holiday, I bought a new iPod in the sale at Best Buy today, at a bargain price compared to back home. Silver, 80Gb and very sexy. And I shall never again be ridiculed for my 'retro', 'vintage' 3rd generation brick! Ha!

The cottage and the bunkey

Megan & I popped over to her parent's place just for one night, getting back yesterday. Their house is huge and it amuses me that they refer to it as a 'cottage'. The little 2 bed cabin, called the 'bunkey', that they have in their grounds (where Megan & I slept) is probably bigger than my flat back home. Amazing how many pictures of the lake I managed to take in just 2 days, but then, it was terribly picturesque. Sadly, the Northern Lights did not make an appearance but the stars, out there in the middle of nowhere and away from all the light pollution, were incredible nonetheless. We also managed to do a spot of quad biking before we left too, so all was good.

Animal watch: elk, coyotes (oh yes, they looked wily alright), deer, birds of prey of some description (possibly eagles but I'm a bit rubbish on birds), minnows (do they count?), a muskrat (though Megan called it a badger, which threw me, as it was in the water).

Catch up with all the rest of the pics here as usual.

What we did on our holidays

Calgary was great. It's a cool and modern city, with plenty of spectacular views of parks and rivers and shiny skyscrapers. We were staying in a somewhat disconcerting stuffed-full-of-soft-toys B&B, a short walk from Kensington. Our room was called The Wind in the Willows, which, given Darrell's excessive gas problem, was rather too apt for my liking. We slowly became convinced that the everytime we looked, another soft toy had been squashed into the room and that we would wake up one night with a stuffed moose crouching over us with a butcher's knife.

We were sure that we'd seen a big observation tower when we'd driven into the city, so on our first day there, we decided to look for it. Now, this is a sodding great big tower, with a red observation deck, so you'd think that it wouldn't be hard to track down. You'd be wrong. No matter where we looked, it remained elusive until we finally decided to do the sensible thing and ask a woman covered in tattoos in an information booth at Eau Claire market (while we ate enormous ice creams. Well, when in Rome). She gave us directions that seemed to take us a) back to where we'd started over the other side of town completely and b) nowhere near any tower that we could see. Then suddenly, as we rounded the last corner, lo and behold we discovered that the bastard tower had been somehow hiding behind every other tall building in the area. I swear to god it's like a stealth building, you'd never know it was there until you were underneath it. We hopped across the road with excitement and glee only to find it had been closed an hour earlier for a private function. Bugger.

Somehow we ended up in a bar. And somehow I ended up drunk. I'm not prepared to discuss the details, but let's just say 2 shandies and I'm anyone's, it would seem.

The next day we got up and had our (non-negotiable 8am) breakfast of pancakes and fruit and headed back to the tower. Our journey into the city first took us past the totally fabulous Crave, which is a somewhat legendary cup cake shop, with queues right out of the door. We bought an assorted half a dozen and went and sat by the river to have a little nibble. Okay, okay, stuff our faces. Then we found the tower and went up, which was well worth the wait. I particularly liked the glass floored bit which made your stomach turn over. Then we went to the Devonian gardens, which is a garden on the 4th floor of a shopping mall where we lazed, read tourist brochures and played with bubblegum. Oh and I bought some rather lovely ski boots, which are silver, so I was very happy and I'm set up for the season now, with my borrowed ski clothes from Megan. Now I just have to get heaters built into them because I understand that -30 degrees tends to feel really quite chilly.

Finally we headed back to the B&B to get changed for dinner and a movie (those of you who know me well know that I normally refuse to use the word 'movie' back home, in favour of the more proper English word 'film' but I'm having to relax the rules a bit out here). A quick taco/fajita combo and then we went back to Eau Claire to watch Superbad, which was Supergood. A leisurely walk back through the city and park, where we saw giant rabbits (at least I think they were rabbits, I'm still getting used to the wildlife out here. Today we saw a squashed porcupine at the side of the road. I mean, come on, what's wrong with the humble hedgehog?) and a photo session on the bridge which saw me produce this little beauty.

We checked out of serial killer heaven the next morning and got back in the car for the drive to Banff. We could see the Rockies in the distance but I'm not sure anything quite prepares you for seeing them up close for the first time. They are so bloody spectacular and I did end up taking a large amount of pictures, though not as many as Daz because I was driving and he will take pictures of anything that moves - or doesn't move - anyway.

We checked into our log cabin (with jacuzzi!) and headed out to check out the town where I'll be spending the winter. I think I lucked out. It's a nice size town, lots of shops so I won't feel claustrophobic. I've earmarked a couple of places I'd quite like to work, including a very cool little sweet shop right in the centre of town, but I'll start the job hunt in earnest in a couple of weeks when I get back there. Preferably I'll get somewhere which gives me a ski pass, which is, after all, what it's all about. So for now, we were just browsing. We walked down to the Bow River and ate ribs at Tony Roma's. Next day we headed over to the Banff Gondolas, which take you up Sulphur Mountain (which is also, by some extraordinary coincidence, my nickname for Darrell after spending so much time in an enclosed space with him). We headed up the mountain to be battered by the wind, throw snowballs at each other and say 'Oh my god, this is just so beautiful. It looks like a backdrop. I can't believe it's real' ad nauseum. Then, when we were good and cold, we took the gondola back down to visit the Banff Hot Springs, which was just gorgeous. When Darrell finally sends me that picture of me in my bond girl bikini (Primark, £5) with the mountains behind me, I'll be sure to pass it on to you, I promise.

Big burger for lunch before walking it off on the Bow River trail down to the Bow River falls, then back for a quick jacuzzi. Well, you would, wouldn't you?

Next morning we checked out to drive along the Icefields Parkway towards Jasper, which lived up to its name. Unfortunately this also meant that it was too rainy/snowy/foggy/misty to see any of the sodding mountains along the way until we were right on top of them, but the weather can be forgiven because, as you can see, the snow made Darrell so darn happy. We got to Jasper and thought we'd try to find our hotel, which claimed to be 'near Jasper'. Hmmm. In fact it was nearly an hour's drive away in Hicksville, sorry Hinton. Damn these Canadians and their screwy perception of distance. That's like saying you should stay in a hotel in Basingstoke because it's 'near' London! (which fortunately for those of us in London, it isn't. Phew.)

We couldn't face driving all the way back to Jasper the next day (and anyway, I'd already been there for 40 minutes when our train stopped there on the way from Vancouver to Edmonton, so I'd pretty much done that) so instead we drove the 250kms or so back to Megan & Craig's and Darrell got ready for his flight to Vancouver that afternoon where he's spending the next week or so. Apparently it's very cold and wet there at the moment. Haha. Megan & I will be heading up to her parent's cabin tomorrow for a couple of days in the hope of seeing some Aurora Borealis (which is my dearest wish to see!) so fingers crossed for me. Naturally if I do, you'll be the first with the pictures.

More pics from the road trip here.

Road trip

Darrell & I have hired a car and hit the road with a couple of rucksacks* and a guitar.

We're currently in Calgary, which is gorgeous, but I can't upload my pictures just now as I don't have my laptop with me. We're here for a couple of days, then off to Banff for a couple of nights in a log cabin before heading up to Jasper to (hopefully) do some white water rafting before the season finishes. I will no doubt blog about it properly when we return, including pictures of the (slightly scary) B&B we're currently staying in. Quick preview: lots of soft toys. LOTS.

*Well, a small suitcase and a holdall - we are in our thirties you know.

A disgrace to the sisterhood

I'm sorry, I really am. I realise that what I'm about to tell you might mean I have to hand in my membership to Womenhood United but I've been officially outshopped by a man.

Omigod but Darrell can shop. The other day we went to the West Edmonton Mall (until 2004 the largest shopping mall in world) and spent 12 hours there. Man but it is BIG. To be fair, as well as going in most (but not all!) of the shops, we also had lunch (chinese) and dinner (ribs), went to the cinema (saw Shoot 'Em Up and it is baaaaaaaaaaad), watched a sealion show, went bowling (I whooped Darrell's ass so that's one back for the girls), though we didn't have time to go to the waterpark with waterslides (and hadn't brought our cozzies so might have got arrested for indecency if we'd tried), nor did we have time to go to the theme park (yes really) or see the aquarium. But for the main bulk of the day, we did go into a million different shops. By the end, I was to be found sat on the man chairs moaning quietly and rubbing my tired legs, while Darrell zoomed round like a whirling dervish saying "Come on now, if you sit down you'll never want to get up. Let's pick up the pace!" In subsequent days he has continued this trend by spending a small fortune on hoodies, computer games and - most importantly, a very nice new guitar. Pretty much the full extent of my shopping up till now has been the garment you can see me modelling above, which they call a vest over here, but clearly it is actually a bodywarmer. And green to boot. Oh and I bought some underwear. My god I'm going crazy!

Today we're just chilling out, eating left over Mexican food - those burritos are gooood but they are filling - and playing Guitar Hero, which I wasn't bad at on the easy level but now we're using four fingers I find I'm struggling to keep up with the guitar meister...

New photos here and here.

Catching up a bit

It’s been so great seeing Megan again but we’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to blog, so sorry aboot (Canadian pronunciation) that. I’m typing this on word as I’m on the train between Vancouver & Edmonton and shall upload it as soon I get near an internet connection. I’ll give you a brief rundown of the past few days:

On 11th Sept, Megan & I checked into the HI hostel in Jericho Beach, where we had a private room, and went for dinner at the Galley Patio Bar which was cheap and cheerful but with a stunning view of the sun going down over the beach, mountains and cityscape (and yes, we did raise a toast to what would have been my 8th wedding anniversary). The following day we went on a couple of recommendations to Lynn Canyon, where we had a great mini-hike in the forest, sat for ages looking at the glacial water running through the valley and had a picnic (but not in the forest – here you gotta be BEAR AWARE!). We had dinner at a 24hr vegetarian fusion restaurant called Naam. We’re sooooo Vancouver. Next day we
drove up Highway 99 to Whistler, where the 2010 Winter Olympics is being held. As you can see, in the race to the shopping I won gold, but to be fair, Megan was a worthy runner up. The weather, it has to be said, has been stunning and we were sweltering, which was not what I expected the first time I visited a ski resort but there you go. Life’s like that, as some wise Canadian woman once said. I think it was Avril Lavigne. Later that evening we headed down to W4th (I speaka da lingo) to find some dinner and discovered our new favourite restaurant in the whole world, Fish, where we had food so good we couldn’t speak. We did make a lot of mmmmm noises though and nodded a lot too. I had the blackened trout with lemon butter and fries. Then a hop over to Capers for a lemon tart, pecan pie and coffee for dessert, next to a couple of anorexic girls talking about their treatment programme, which made us appreciate our puddings even more.

Breakfast on 14th Sept was taken at Sophie’s Cosmic Café where we enjoyed the crazy crap on the walls muchly. We did a spot of shopping, returned our rental car and headed over to the train station to pick up the VIA rail train through the Rockies to Megan’s hometown of Edmonton. As I write, we’re a few short hours away from our destination (the journey is 23 hours in total). A few observations from our journey so far are as follows:

The Rockies, as the name might suggest, rock
Mountain sheep can proffer the most disdainful expression.
Bears can be hard to spot, even when someone tries to point them out to you.
I don’t think moose actually exist. A clever marketing ploy on the part of the Canadians, I’m guessing. At least, I’ve not seen any, which is almost conclusive.
Buffalo, however, do exist and are big.
Bright sunshine without a cloud in the sky is definitely the best way to see this all.
Bring snacks when you're going on a 23 hr train journey.
Glacial water is very blue and, allegedly, very cold.
Washing and dressing in a tiny bathroom is easier than I might previously have thought.
Sleeping across two reclining seats is not.
Canada is very big and very beautiful indeed.

When we arrive in Edmonton, we will have two lovely boys waiting for us. Craig, Megan’s fiancé, and Darrell, who flew in from London yesterday for a month long visit and whom I cannot wait to see. They met up this morning and have been out buying ‘essentials’ (i.e. beer), and will be taking us out for dinner on our arrival. Life is good.

No longer alone...

Whilst I don't have too much to report from yesterday (I took a break from walking and did very little except have a MAMMOTH session on MSN Messenger), I'm very excited today because although I'm checking out of my lovely guest house (boo), Megan is flying in this afternoon to stay with me at a hostel on Jericho Beach (hurray!) Can't wait to see her. She'll be here in Vancouver with me for a few days before we head back to Edmonton by train on Friday. It's a 23 hour journey through the Rockies - supposed to be spectacular. I'm sure I'll tell you all about it.

I have decided that although there are definitely positives to travelling alone - you can go where you want when you want, don't have to justify it to anyone, can stay as long as you want and bail out if you're bored without explanation - I have found the lack of someone to say 'Oh wow, look at that!' to rather isolating. I'm a sociable creature by nature and, although I've chatted to a few people, a few possibly against their will, I think I'd prefer to share my experiences with someone. I am, of course, therefore delighted that, as well as spending the next month with Megan and her fiancé Craig, Darrell is flying out at the end of this week to bum around for a month in Edmonton with me. We will probably hire a car and do a bit of a mini-Rockies tour and Megan plans to take us up to her parents' cabin which is somewhere on a lake, where we hope very much to see the Northern Lights. Oh I just can't wait.

In other news, I've had an allergic reaction to something - no idea what - and have swollen and numb lips. Thank goodness I've not had to do any kissing this week.

Canadian wildlife

I had such a lovely day today. I went for a walk down Robson (that's Robson STREET for all my English readers) and ended up at Stanley Park, where I saw 2 raccoons! Never seen any before that I'm aware of, so I was pleasantly and probably rather ridiculously amused by them. It reminded me of an Australian girl I once knew, by the name of Arri. I was driving along with her and saw a squashed hedgehog at the side of the road, to which I said 'Awwww', or words to that effect. She asked me what I was awwwwing about, so I said I'd seen a dead hedgehog, to which she burst out laughing. Hardly an appropriate response, as pointed out. It turns out she assumed I was joking because, as everyone knew, hedgehogs don't actually exist, they are merely creatures created by, and for, cartoons and children's stories. She refused to believe my vigorous assertion that they did in fact exist, and as I couldn't ever find another hedgehog to show her, I'm pretty sure she returned to Oz still thinking I was making it all up. At least I'll now believe in raccoons.

I then visited the Vancouver Aquarium, which I'm pleased to report is excellent, and I was beyond delighted to finally see the world-famous Vancouver sea otters that have been paraded about so often on popbitch. The beluga whales were beautifully graceful, the sea lion enormous, and I must admit to being rather pleased with some of the pictures I took of the jellyfish. I love jellyfish. I want some as pets. Is that allowed? As is customary in these places, I had to exit through the gift shop, where I managed, against the odds, to convince myself I didn't actually want a soft-toy jellyfish or a sea otter backpack.

Night vision

I just dragged my sorry arse back up the Harbour Centre tower to see the view of Vancouver at night. The ticket is an all day thing and they say it's worth seeing at night too, so even though I wanted to just slob out and go to bed early (really? Me?) I thought no, you've come this far, you've got to see all there is to see.

I'm pretty glad I did.

Getting the hang of it all

Well the good news is, I do feel like I'm settling in a bit now. Today, someone approached me and asked me where Seymour and Davie was. Now, once upon a time, in the not-too-dim and distant past, I'd have wondered who Seymour and Davie were and why I should know what they were up to. But now, quick as a flash, I replied "One or two blocks down and one block over". Oh yes. If I hadn't said it in my self-consciously plummy English voice, he'd have thought I was a native, of that I've no doubt.

One thing I do need to tackle though, is my fear of small change. Let me explain. Notes, I can do. They're colourful on the whole and have the numbers written clearly on them, so I have no problem handing them over as though I've been doing it all my life. The coins, however, imbibe me with a sense of apprehension. I go to buy a coke and look into my [overfull with change after all the note usage] purse, but without taking each coin out individually, peering at it this way and that in the available light to see the value hidden somewhere within the decoration and, let's face it, looking like a numpty in the process, I can't just throw the correct change the cashier's way. The other thing that drives me mad is that uniquely North American thing of not including the tax (VAT equivalent) in the advertised price, most of the time anyway. So you go to buy something for $2.99, with $3 clutched in your sweaty palm, and the woman behind the till says "That's $3.24" (or whatever the rate is - I haven't worked it out and with my limited grasp of maths, probably never will). But then the next time you go to buy something that costs, say, $1.35, you deliberately go up with something approaching $2 just in case, and then they say "That's $1.35 please". I just don't bloody get it.

This morning I went to the Granville Island market, which was very pleasant - the food market was fab. I bought some Golden Raspberries, which are just like normal raspberries but they aren't red. Strange. But delicious. I wandered round for ages, bought some sourdough bread (yum) and then hopped on a ferry over to the main part of Vancouver again, got lost (happens to me alot but it's okay, I get where I want to be eventually) then headed over to the Harbour Centre, which has some spectacular views, which you can see in my updated photo album here. In order to get up to the viewing gallery, you go up a glass-fronted lift on the outside of the building, which ascends at one story per second. After contemplating the wisdom of this for a few seconds, I turned to the two older American women I was sharing the lift with and said "This probably isn't the moment to mention Towering Inferno, is it?" Apparently, it wasn't.

It is really Stanley's Park, isn't it?

My first lot of photos is up and you can find them here, or via my facebook account if you prefer. I went for a cycle round Stanley Park today on a slightly ridiculous pink cruiser (okay, okay, I loved it) - had set off with a load of other BUNACers but lost them in the first 5 minutes, which in fact gave me the opportunity to do it my way. Which, incidentally, involved a lot of grunting and stopping for rests. Had been planning to go out and be sociable this evening but am so bloody knackered now that I'm thinking instead of, oh, I don't know, staying in, reading my book and then going to bed. Again. I'm really so bloody predictable.

I've also got a Canadian sim card and phone number now - email me if you want me to send it to you so you can text me on occasion if you fancy - and can you believe that over here you get charged for receiving calls, as well as making them? Talk about a licence to print money!

I'm now settled into the Urban Hideaway, where I have a double room with a view of the garden all to myself, which feels like the ultimate luxury after the 4 bedded bunk-up of last night. I've spent the afternoon exploring the shops and even went to the cinema to see Sicko, the new Michael Moore film which features - much to my huge excitement - my very own Queen Charlotte's hospital and my fellow midwives Darrell Brooks & Becky Lupton! Whilst the NHS and the Canadian healthcare system are praised for their open door policies, the film provides a damning report on the American health insurance scandal which I watched open-mouthed, even finding myself crying on 3 occasions. A sharp reminder of why I never want to live in the US.

There's a pub meet tonight with all my fellow BUNACers, which I feel I should attend in order to be sociable but a) I'm still pretty tired and would rather have an early night and b) fully expect them all to be out to get trollied, which as you know, is not my bag. Maybe I'll just join them for a quick soft drink out of politeness and then take refuge in my grandmother-of-the-group status and head home for a cup of something warm and comforting. From coke to cocoa in 2 easy steps.

Busy bee

One of my room mates found out how old I am this morning. Her reaction was a picture and no mistake. I'm amazed she didn't ask me if I still had all my own teeth...

Got a busy day lined up as I've got to run for breakfast now, then to a briefing about getting a Social Insurance Number (like an NI number) so I can work here, then moving from the hostel to this guest house, then might get time to do some exploring!

Canada, eh?

After months and months of talking about (sorry, aboot) coming to Canada, I'm not sure why it's taken me so much by surprise that I'm actually here. All my many leaving do's have been lovely, great to catch up with everyone I could before I came out here, but clearly I have been very deeply in denial about, well, everything I think.

For a start, my fellow BUNAC travellers are nearly all considerably younger than me, so I already feel like their mother. The drive from the airport into town (in a yellow school bus!) was a surreal experience because I kept seeing unfamiliar things and thinking 'Oh my God I'm in Canada. I'm actually IN Canada. I'm in bloody Canada. And what's more, I'm going to be here for a really long time'. I'm normally a cool and confident traveller but am feeling distinctly odd and lost out here on my own. At least it's not long till Megan flies out from Edmonton to come and visit me!

I'm staying tonight in a (slightly musty smelling) hostel in a room with 3 of the rest of the BUNAC gang - though I'm so bloody tired I don't think the smell or company will bother me much - who are all going out for drinks and food roundabout now, but I think I'm just going to head off to bed. Did I say mother? Make that grandmother. I have already had a quick wander round Davie Village, where the hostel is located, which appears to be Vancouver's equivalent of Old Compton Street. Lots of rainbows. Lots of sex shops. Then I found this coffee shop which had free wireless internet so I rushed back to get my laptop to have a quick blog for your delight and pleasure...

Right, now I'm just too tired to write any more just now. It's only 9.15pm here, but it's 5.15 tomorrow morning in my head. Anyway, rest assured I made it here safe and sound and haven't managed to do anything stupid yet. There's still plenty of time for that.

I'm a free agent...

...because I have one of these. It's super cool, 120Gbs, fits in the palm of your hand and weighs as much as bar of dairy milk.

Mmmm. Chocolate. On that note, my friend Guy gave me a kilo of Dairy Milk as a going away present, on the condition I ate it all before I left.

3 days left. No sweat.

Two sticks on my feet, some snow and a hill...

...in Milton Keynes of all places, my feelings about which have been previously documented.

For my birthday, in preparation for spending 6 months in a ski resort, David bought me a skiing lesson at the Xscape SnoZone! which I had yesterday. Given that I can't remember ever having been in the same room as a pair of skis, let alone had them on my feet, it was a steep learning curve but in 3 hours I went from "how the hell am I supposed to move with these bloody things on my feet?" to "get me higher up this damn hill and watch me kick some powder!"

If you'd like to see how I ended up, watch this:


But if you'd like to see me fall over the first time I tried turning (and I'm guessing that you would), see here (sorry it's sideways):


I had a blast but, inevitably, my thighs are paying for it today.

Baby names - again

Remember the couple from New Zealand who wanted to call their son 4Real? NZ authorities blocked it, because numbers aren't allowed in names. So the parents have now settled on something a bit less controversial. Superman.

Sigh.

Au reservoir work

Well my last day at work didn't go quite as planned. I haven't finished my (yawn!) audit for starters, because I'm very lazy when it comes to boring data input, but I still need to finish it at some point. I can do the lion's share at home but will have to pop in to the hospital next week to tidy up. On top of this, I have a case conference (social services meeting) to go to on Monday, because it's one of my girls I've spent months working with and fighting for, so I don't want to let her down by not attending just because I've left work!

Today I was asked to meet Debbie at 1.30pm in the community office. This I did and was taken round to my 'surprise' leaving party, which was very nice, and I ate lots of food. Then I had to finish a report for the social services meeting on Monday. It took me ages, because I had a load of research to do for it, then I tried to email it to the social worker, but our email client at work is being migrated this weekend and it wouldn't let me log on. So I thought I'd photocopy a load for Monday instead. Half an hour and SIX jam clearances later, I'd failed to copy even one bloody report. I thought I'd give up and go home, so I went out to my car, only to find the sodding thing wouldn't start. It had done this the other day and I'd taken it to the garage, who said they'd sorted the problem. Obviously not. So I contacted Security and they came out to jump start me, bless their cottons. I noticed my phone had run out of battery and had a barrage of messages when I switched it on. One was from Claire, for whom I'm housesitting at present while she's in Portugal, who'd had a garbled message from her cleaner about something she couldn't understand, so she was panicking. I promised to get home asap to make sure everything was okay (which it is, it's just that the cleaner had shut the door behind her and left some documents in the house by accident). I put my car stereo in to relax me and, lo and behold, the sodding thing wouldn't do a dicky bird. Won't even switch on. No idea why. I have a CD stuck in it too.

Now I've got home I'm pissed off and bloody starving in that order, so I need to find something to eat and then syringe feed the hamster. Don't ask.