Away in Whistler

Having already visited beautiful Iceland in November, I truly thought the any sights of snow I might see (bar an odd freak sprinkling in the UK) were well and truly exhausted for the year…

Alas, in swept AWAY– providing me with not only the luggage set of dreams (trust me when I say you need nothing more than their Bigger Carry On for any travel ever again- it has a CHARGER people), as well as even a little more snow just before Christmas came around- in the shape of a trip to beautiful Whistler. With Canada having been on my travel radar for a while, I had no idea that I’d have a chance to visit a pocket of the beautiful place as soon as I did- let alone with an itinerary packed with everything from skiing to snowmobiling in the mountains.

With my case packed with endless thermals, layers and knitwear (the story of a girl who had clearly never skied before)- Lucy and I met at Heathrow, before curling up for the long-haul; armed with podcasts, reading material and lemon drizzle from EAT (10/10). After arriving eleven-or-so hours later tired and jet lagged, we met our compadres (that’s Lily, Emma, Filipa and Isabelle) and set off on the drive from Vancouver to Whistler- arriving just after 6pm at the beautiful Fairmont Chateau- which bought with it an in-room log fire and endless Kevin McCallister in Home Alone vibes.

Now, don’t ask me how I’ve managed it- but our second day in Whistler consisted of a morning of snowmobiling way up in the mountains- something, that if you’d have told me I’d be doing at the beginning of the year, TWICE, I’d have probably had a good ol’ chuckle at. But alas, call me Joanna Lumley (or ahem, Lara Croft) as before we knew it I was on the back of Lucy’s ‘mobile (read: with metal grips around her waist) and we were cruising on to our breakfast destination, but naturally not before a slight sideways tumble…

With breakfast served in a log cabin tucked, seemingly, in the middle of a beautiful nowhere- surrounded only by trees, icing powdery snow and the padding of our own foot steps- it felt like we’d arrived in Narnia after the journey up there. To a soundtrack of The Beatles and a table of scrambled eggs, fluffy pancakes (doused in rich maple syrup no less) and hot tea all freshly prepared- we tucked in on campfire enamel, with the only sound being our slurping tea and John, Paul, George and Ringo. Let me tell you, if there’s something that’s worth falling off of a Ski-Doo for- it’s that.