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Pique n' your interest

Stir crazy in Whistler

After my first three weeks in Whistler I was ready to leave.

How many more times can I walk around this village, I thought to myself the 10th time around.

All the buildings looked the same. I had eaten in the same restaurants, partied in the same bars, sipped the same coffee in the same coffee shops. In those 21 days I had only travelled in a 10 kilometre radius. Those 10 km got me to work, home, the grocery store and the village and there was no need to venture farther than that.

Back home in my parents’ northern Toronto suburb, I had to travel at least that distance to rent a movie.

As soon as I got here I lost the anonymity that I had become so accustomed to in the big city. It was impossible to disappear in the village at any time, but especially early on a Friday afternoon when I should have been at work. (Note to Ed. - I would never dream of skipping off work, I’m simply illustrating a point.)

Everybody knew each other in Whistler and, more to the point, everybody knew everyone else’s business.

I had been transported from the biggest city in Canada to a town of less than 10,000 people and I was in culture shock.

Still, I couldn’t put my finger on what it was about the city that I was missing exactly. I only knew that I was feeling confined and constrained and I couldn’t wait to escape to Vancouver and get caught up in the hustle and bustle of city life. To walk along the crowded streets and get caught up in the rush, and to breathe in the city smells of things happening, to watch the different people going about their different businesses.

It’s funny how quickly things change.

I was in Vancouver last weekend for the first time in a long time.

Suddenly everything was too fast, too different, too smelly and I couldn’t wait to get back home to Whistler.

City life is summed up at Costco on a rainy Saturday afternoon. Bargain-hunting shoppers are awful at the best of times but in a crowded warehouse full of bargains they are simply intolerable.

There was a lot of pushing and a lot of shoving and the lineups were so long that we opted out of buying anything that day.

The next step was driving across the city to Kitsilano.

There was a lot of honking and a lot of butting in line and the lineups were so long that we almost opted out of the city immediately.

But we persevered.

The city was dirty and busy and rushed. It made me feel stressed and hurried and cranky.

It was then that I had an epiphany of sorts.

I realized that the city hadn’t changed at all. I had changed. It was still the same place that I was craving a year ago it’s just that I didn’t crave those things anymore.

The same thing happened when I moved to Halifax to go to university. Although Halifax is the hub of the Maritimes, it’s still pretty sleepy compared to Toronto. I missed being able to go to a hockey game or a baseball game or the theatre, although I maybe did those things once a month when I lived in Toronto. Pretty soon however Halifax felt as though it was the perfect size. And when drivers stopped their cars in the middle of the road just to let you cross, it was a nice feeling, one that I quickly got used to. In Toronto they tend to aim their cars right at you.

That’s not to say there aren’t some creature comforts about the city that are hard to resist – like seeing Harry Potter II on the big screen, in comfortable seats.

After the movie at Saturday night as we made our way home to Whistler I began to get more and more peaceful the higher we climbed up Highway 99.

I thought back to the time when I first arrived in Whistler, right in the middle of shoulder season. Being November it was rainy and drizzly and there wasn’t much going on around town.

We weren’t going outside much. Instead there was a lot of time spent watching TV and movies, playing cards, doing jigsaw puzzles, listening to music and just whiling away the slow hours. Actually looking back it sounds like it was a blast, but at the time I was bored.

Added to that was this growing excitement all around me that I just couldn’t fathom.

I had never been up the hill before, never been on a snowboard and so I didn’t really know what to expect of the coming winter season.

I didn’t know what there was to get excited about.

As soon as the hill opened Whistler didn’t seem so small anymore. Let’s face it – it’s hard to feel the least bit confined and constrained or bored on the mountains. There were so many places to explore and so much to learn that I didn’t even think of trading a weekend on the slopes for a weekend in the city.

Likewise, I was loath to trade in a summer camping around Whistler for a night spent bar hopping and shopping in Vancouver. What happened to me?

There was this time when all I wanted was my anonymity back. I didn’t want to stop and say "hello" five times as I walked through the village.

Now popping into Nesters on the way home from work and taking an hour to pick up a carton of milk and bread isn’t so frustrating anymore. It’s charming.

It’s all part of Whistler’s charm, even if it does take a whole year to work its magic.