Day 30 & 31 (4/30 & 5/1)
Whistler . . .
Whistler is wonderful. Right from the beginning. At the corner we just took a right and never turned again until we were turning into Whistler an hour and a half later. Through the rest of downtown and Stanley Park, across Lion’s Gate Bridge and then following along Indian Arm (the fjord) on the Canadians’ take on a freeway. One minute you’re driving along on a four lane divided highway at 90 (km/h, that is), winding in and out among the cliffs overlooking Indian Arm and as you round a bend, the road becomes two lanes, two way and 55 (~ 35 mph) with a stop light 100 m ahead. Big and small, fast and slow, freeway and surface street, changing over and over again and, apparently no problem to anybody (except maybe me).
We stopped at Whistler Creekside – just a couple of miles short of Whistler – and bought some supplies. Once we turned into the resort, it didn’t take long to find Rob and Nancy’s condo. You just keep going uphill. After checking in, we moved in bring with us nearly every piece of clothing we’d brought in the form of dirty laundry. I’m not exactly sure why, but as soon as we looked around we felt comfortable. It wasn’t just that this was not just another hotel room. It was more like we were their guests even though they weren’t there sharing it with us.
But, the best thing (besides the washer and dryer, of course) was the kitchen. We had long since become sick of road food. We love to cook anyway and don’t go out to eat very often. And to have no choice but to do so for going on 5 weeks was bringing us down. We’d bought steak, potatoes and asparagus and were looking forward to dinner.
But first, since it was just early afternoon and we were hungry, it was time to do some exploring. The path beside the condos led to just above the bottom of the sky run and the base of the lift. Skiers and boarders were still heading up the slopes, though they had to go all the way to the top of the mountain, way beyond the first crest. Others were taking the lift, some of whom were walking back down. This is the Blackcomb run that ends in the upper village. The Whistler run ends in the lower village. We confined our walk about to the upper village and eventually sat outside a café and ate lunch and watched the people going by. Finally, we went back to the condo where Connie did laundry and I got started trying to catch up on the blog.
By dinnertime, we were still too full from lunch so we each just had half a baked potato and the asparagus.
While I slept in in the morning, Connie, per Rob’s enthusiastic suggestion, went down to the bakery and picked up some muffins. I fried up some eggs and we sat down to a great breakfast. The muffins lived up to their reputation.
We hung around the condo doing more laundry and just hanging out. Today we would explore the lower village. When we finally did get going, we walked downhill and onto a path that led a covered pedestrian bridge that crossed Fitzsimmons Creek. The creek separates the upper and lower villages and, being surrounded by enough wooded open space and with trails on both sides, it offers a wonderful, quiet get away from the bustle of the villages.
The lower village is twice as large as the upper village and both are filled with unique shops and restaurants, cafés and ice cream parlors. In a world where national brands have eliminated mom & pop operations, this was a refreshing respite. We walked around stopping to check out what interested us. I saw a hardware store and, because it seemed a little out of place, went in to ask the clerk about its history. She was the owner’s wife and said that they had started the store when the resort was young and probably wouldn’t have been able if they’d tried later. I told her I thought they had a gold mine of a location. We had been steadily walking down hill and eventually came to the lower end of the commercial part of the village. Hungry, we turned around and retraced out steps almost completely until we found the café where we ate lunch.
Connie and I like the artistic style of the First Peoples of the northwest and weren’t finding anything to our liking, so we decided to head over to the Squamish Lil’wat Cultural Centre. This took us back through the lower village, through the Winter Olympic Plaza and, after confusing help from a couple of locals, a lot farther than it should have before we got there. The entrance we used took us directly to the gift shop where Connie found a tee shirt she liked and I happened upon a blanket I really liked. After buying both, we suddenly realized how tired we were after walking all afternoon in surprisingly hot weather and we headed home.
Whistler is an interesting place. Like Moab, its sole purpose is as a gathering place for people coming to have fun doing out door activities.
And fun is infectious. We saw lots of young people in boots, snow pants, jackets and helmets and goggles, carrying their boards to or from the lifts. There were also skiers in various levels of dress, including a man is skin tight short shorts and tee shirt. Several of the people wandering around were tourists like Connie and me out enjoying what was apparently one of the first truly warm days there. One man even walked down through the village clad only in his undershorts.
But there was another interesting aspect of Whistler. It reminded both Connie and me of Disneyland. As far as I could tell, the resort began some time in the eighties. Even if earlier, everything has been so well kept up as to look brand new. And, like in Disneyland, there are people who go around cleaning all the public places. Unlike Disneyland, it never felt crowded, or busy, or noisy and we never once had to listen to “It’s a Small World After All”.
More home cooked food: steak, baked potato and left over asparagus; chopped up steak bits & cheese in the last two eggs with more of the great muffins. Thanks again Rob and Nancy for a great break from the road.