There's a bear in there

Whistler is this bizarre town that the Winter Olympics perfected into a fairy tale village. I'm sure there are plenty of fairy lights and gently falling snow and Christmas decorations and egg nog come winter. Now is the 'shoulder season' - and not only because all the people you ask for a job give you the cold shoulder. In summer the mountain opens a BMX course, there's a tourist gondola from the top of Blackcomb Mountain to the top of Whistler Mountain, and there's many lakes to boat and fish in and swim and frollick in, and mountains to climb. The bike park is now closed, the rains are here (Marge), and it's just a little bit too cold to be outdoors, unless you're in the sun in the middle of the day, there's no wind, you have gloves and a beanie on, and a thermos of hot coffee.

So, needless to say, not many places are hiring new staff until the snow season starts. It's disheartening to go to every restaurant, bar and cafe in town, hand in a resume, and know that it's just going to go to the bottom of the pile and they will forget my happy face and friendly demeanor, not to mention impeccable dress sense. I've had one interview so far, at a sports shop (me???). I nearly spewed on the guy, I was that hungover. I had to turn every 'so what do you know about different ski brands' question into 'I'm really friendly and have great customer service skills, and I can juggle!' answer. And $10 an hour? I have a degree! I'd much prefer to work in a restaurant - night shifts mean a day on the mountain, and Canadians sure do tip well. This week I will do another round of the restaurants and cafes and make sure they REMEMBER ME!
Phillbo has had better luck - experience in tourism certainly helps. He's had two interviews for the same maintenance position at a big hotel here; he just needs to meet Dave the maintenance manager (Dave's been a bit ill), but hopefully he can start work soon.

At the start of November Phill and his sister Kate and I move into our own house. At the moment we are living in a share house with two French Canadian guys, possibly the biggest stoners ever. One is depressingly pessimistic and should just leave Whistler so he can't whinge about all the workers, the landlords, the tourists, the mountains... He also has a very deep voice and can talk about shit for hours; not talk WITH you, but talk AT you. One of those. French Canadian, though, is hilarious. It sounds more Swedish than French - you can pick up words every now and then, but they sound so funny!

So our days at the moment comprise of checking Craigs List for jobs, watching movies, and exploring the valley and village. We live about a 10 minute bus ride from the village, but five minutes walk to Creekside, where a gondola goes up Whistler mountain. There are kilometres of trails to and from town and around the lakes. On nice days, it's so beautiful to see all the autumnal trees reflected in the still lakes - on miserable days, it's cold and wet. We did a four-hour walk around the valley on a miserable day, and got cold and wet, but we saw our first BEAR! On a golf course! It's beary bear friendly around here - a look but don't touch attitude; but there's no garbage collection because bears will go through the garbage! Crazy bears.
Kate and I have also joined the local gym in an attempt to get fit for the snow season. It's not like Australia where you go to the snow for one or two days - we live here! So we need to be fit to have day after day on the mountain. Nine months of minimal physical exercise has certainly taken its toll.