The route from Horsehoe Bay had been uneventful and within an hour and a half of landing back on the mainland we were pulling into Main Street, Whistler. So far, so good. Hotel seemed nice. Room pleasant enough, but as we were keen to explore we weren't in it for long, and then the weirdness set in. Stepping outside the hotel and following signs towards the village centre we both went into a mild state of shock. It's difficult to describe how two people can be imagining the same thing about a place and how when that place is SO NOT what you expected how utterly cheated and deflated you feel, together. Quite why we had expected alpine chalets, quaint streets and a sense of calm emanating from the mountains I'm not sure. The reality of Whistler (and I say this after a fabulous day so it's ok to sound a little critical 'cos it knows we love it really) is like Centre-Parcs-Does-Disney-without-the-Mouse-Ears,-on-Speed! All accommodation is of the hotel ilk, large efficient modern ones, the 'streets' are all pedestrianised, the bridges, water features, monuments all seem manufactured in a way that feels vaguely fake and everywhere you turn there are shops, and more shops (these often sports outlets for enthusiastic young things), and a racket!!! From the bars, from the restaurants, from the crowds! This is party central. A buzzing and vibrant hugely popular resort geared up entirely to skiing in winter and hiking or mountain biking in summer. So why were we disappointed? Actually I think we were just tired and having to chuck out the imaginings to make space for reality. That's ok (or at least it was by today). Dinner was overdue, overpriced, and very quickly ... over. Back to our pleasant room with a vague plan to find a walking route for our full remaining day in Whistler that found nature and lost some of the crowds.
And then the lift happened. And happened, and happened again. Now as you may know I have a canny way to block out unwanted noises. It's called my right ear. It's not as clever as it should be, but moderate hearing loss on one side affords rest even when the world tries hard to get in. HRH doesn't have a right ear. Or at least he does - but it, along with its non-identical twin, are too clever for their own good and so our room, adjacent to the lift-shaft, was quickly declared a no-stay zone. Bugger. There am I, tired and somewhat disillusioned, when talk of moving rooms starts up. No. Not having that. "Here - try these...."
This morning, the sun was shining, I woke feeling rested and ready to face Whistler. Having just about survived the night thanks to a pair of airline earplugs I happened to have in my wash bag (safety precaution against mega-snoring), HRH was not giving up on a room swap. And to give him his due, despite the fidget to pack up and move, we totally landed on our feet. All four of them. Free upgrade, huge suite, separate sitting room, fully equipped kitchenette, dishwasher and, best of all, washing machine and tumble dryer, and all without so much as a raised voice or a whine. Suddenly, somehow, the clouds lifted and we had a PLAN. Now, instead of a stroll round the lakes that lie all around the town, we were headed UP the mountains for a full day in the sunshine before a spot of self-catering, chilled wine, a movie or a good book, no crowds and clean clothes!
And so here comes the apology. Sorry Whistler, we may have misjudged you. We love you really, and thank you for what has turned into a triple-X-rated day. Three kisses from us, one for each of the 'brilliant's we used to descibe the feeling of soaring high above the landscape on open chair lifts to stunning alpine views from the peaks, huge lungs full of clean, clear air and just enough of a stretch to the legs without having worn ourselves out again.
The one-day ski-lift passes actually enabled us to use all of the options in the area and, following a tip to avoid the crowds we set off first to climb aboard the Wizard Express up to Blackcomb Peak.
Next we transferred to the Solar Coaster Express to complete the ascent ...
Here we opted to take a one-hour circular walk, during which we encountered almost tame (for this read 'used to people feeding them') Clark's Nutcracker birds, which sat so still in the trees that having stopped to take this close-up I got spooked into dropping my phone into the dust when the ruddy thing landed on me!!
Back to the lift-head next to board the Peak-to-Peak, the longest unsupported cable car ride in the world, in total over 2.73 miles, travelling 25 feet per second and taking 11 minutes to cross the ravine. The Fitzsimmons Hydro project in the valley beneath generates enough power to run the towns of Whistler and Blackcomb all year round! It was thrilling.
And so to arrive at Roundhouse Lodge. Here one set of Olympic Rings can be found, along with a huge restaurant/cafe/sun deck that you can imagine heaving with skiers in winter but was today a swarm of hikers of all ages, shapes and sizes and brave mountain bikers keen to launch themselves downhill. One couldn't help but get caught up in the buzz. It was so beautiful, hot, sunny, and special that I Facetimed my Mum ... because it's nice to share.
Final thrill, quick walk to the base of Peak Express to access the summit of Whistler Mountain where we took pics of us, on 'top of the world' ... because we were.
At this point we chose different routes back down the mountain - me on the gondolas with time at the bottom to read in the sun, and HRH to descend on foot. And the best thing? We both thought we chose the better way - so that's perfect!
Supper, laundry, movie now done.
Another book finished. What a great day. Bed awaits. Moving on again tomorrow. More adventures? Perhaps ....
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