Canada

After much planning and procrastination we both arrived in Vancouver safely, albeit 24 hours apart. We pushed through the jetlag to do a bit of sightseeing around Vancouver (including ten consecutive hours at no less than twelve bike shops where Bec earned some serious good-wife points and after which Glenn was still bikeless) and stuck with the original plan of getting to Whistler ASAP for a summer of mountain biking.

We took the bus up the Sea to Sky Highway to Whistler and took ourselves into the Village to find jobs.

Whistler Village

Glenn's dream job is to work in a bike store and Bec's dream job is to work anywhere there's food and where no one dies. And so Bec headed to the local Supermarket to relive her Franklins days:
Bec: Do you have any jobs?
Them: Do you have any fastfood experience?
Bec: I worked at Maccas for three years
Them: You're hired. Can you start tomorrow?
And that is how Bec arrived at spending 40 hours a week serving icecream cones and making mini pizzas at Whistler Supermarket. As for Glenn, bikeshop jobs are proving elusive so he too has joined the ranks of the Supermarket and can be found stacking rice bran oil and the like into shelves. Which is handy given that the cost of living here will most likely bankrupt us. Someone needs to be keeping an eye on the weekly specials!!

So with jobs sorted, we set about scoping out the Village. It's quite pretty and there's still some snow on the mountains where the snowboarders are getting the last out of the season. Weekdays are pretty quiet, but the weekends are full of bikeboys and bikebitches.

Whistler Bikeboy

Glenn eventually bought a bike and is keen to get onto the mountain. Bec is none too confident that she won't be removing stitches from Glenn before the end of the summer. Bec has invested a lot of time into finding a good vantage point close to decaf coffee in the mornings and beer in the afternoons

We're currently living in a lodge about 4km from the Village. Yesterday there was a bear rummaging around in the neighbours backyard. Cute little fella, though ready to rip my brains out through my nose at the blink of an eye I'm sure. Bear-proof bins are the done thing here and also proved to be Bec-and-Glenn-proof initially.