One of the best things about living in Vancouver is being so close to mountains and snow fields. My Canadian has grown up with a world class ski resort in his backyard and I often ask him if he knows how lucky he is to have had his own ski village and mountains at the doorstep. In the same way that I am very lucky to have grown up in a city full of gorgeous beaches and beautiful ocean views, I guess we often don’t appreciate what we have until we leave it behind.

Being in Whistler for me is like being in a movie or stepping into a picture that seems so distant from my own Australian life. Michael J. Fox is right, British Columbia is BIG. Everything is so majestic and it feels like you are walking around with a postcard in front of your face all day long.

Because I don’t snowboard or ski, I spent a lot of our mini trip in Whistler village, while Sean was on the mountain. We decided to meet for lunch on Whistler Mountain which meant I had to overcome a little hurdle. You see, I’m not the best when it comes to heights and I panicked a little on the Capilano Suspension Bridge and the gondola up to Grouse Mountain. However, both times I was with Sean. I had to ride the Whistler gondola alone and I will admit, I was a little freaked out.

The gondola is not that high off the ground but it’s LONG and it climbs and climbs for what seems an eternity to someone who really doesn’t want to be on it in the first place. My freak out had to be contained to my inside voice because there were four very experienced looking ski bunnies on it with me and I didn’t need their goggled eyes peering at me, the novice in my expensive, hardly ever to be worn snowboard pants. Yes, I own snowboard pants and a snowboard jacket. For I fear my death will come in the way of some hellish side of a mountain stranding where I am eventually mauled by eagles and bears. At least I won’t be cold.

The whole trip up to the top consisted of me looking below to figure out if I could survive from that height and scouring the mountains for bears who, if I did fall, would come and eventually eat me. As you can imagine, I was delighted to finally be at the top and to be out of the swinging box in the sky. I was a rush of energy and adrenaline to see the mountain peaks and feel the snow falling on my face. That lasted about 30 seconds until I comprehended that I was going to have to climb back into the death cabin to get back down again.

I am always impressed by my clever Canadian and his snowboarding moves, even though I never actually get to see him do much more than ride away into the distance before he disappears again off the side of a FREAKING HUGE MOUNTAIN.

I won’t bore you with anymore details other than to tell you that my ride back down the mountain was nowhere near as scary. I remembered to breathe and listened to my ipod which helped me to realise that I was lucky enough to be up there in the snow and trees and the mountains which is some of the most beautiful scenery you could ever see. There I was humming along to a little Chris Martin when I realised what an idiot I had been before. I was in a place that was so breathtaking and so magical and yet I had allowed myself to be frightened of it.

I now know, it’s not scary at all.

I made this video mostly for my mum, but you can watch it too if you like. Please excuse the crappy filming. I need a good HD video camera!

p.s. A very late Happy St Patrick’s Day! ☘ ☘