You Are My Sunshine

Well, readers. It's official.

I am employed!

After a little over a week of nauseating impatience, Sunshine Mountain finally contacted me this morning to let me know the blessed news. I have been hired as a server by Mad Trappers, one of the top bar and restaurants on the mountain.

Hello, gratuities.

And if that's not enough good news, I have moved out of the Samesun Hostel and into my very own house. In a twist of absolute fate, myself and two New Zealand sisters I met at the Samesun managed to sweet-talk our way into a beautiful, two bedroom cabin/apartment a block away from Banff Ave, the main street of Banff. We are cramming five people into our little chalet - the two sisters and myself in one room and two male friends of the sisters in the other. Our landlord is providing us with five single beds, a couch and a coffee table and with the kitchen already decked out with a fridge, microwave, (self-cleaning) oven and dishwasher, not to mention a washer and dryer, all we are left to do is make a trip to the Calgary Walmart to collect kitchen equipment and bedding! I managed to pick up some sheets, blankets and a TV in Banff so we're half way there already.

We officially moved in this morning and had a joint welcome/21st Birthday celebration for Ciahn, which involved pancakes, berries, icecream and champagne. I spilt the champagne on the floor so the apartment is offically christened.

So after a few worrying weeks spent not knowing if everything was going to work out, if I was going to get a job, if I was going to find somewhere to live, if I was going to have to leave Banff, if I was going to have to go home to Australia with my tail between my legs, everything has worked out (like everyone I complained to promised me it would.)

But everyone who knew me before I started this journey also knew how much this all meant to me. How long I had waited to be here and how much frustration and disappointment after disappointment I had gone through before I finally boarded that plane bound for the USA. I spent a long time building this experience up in my head, hearing other people's stories and developing my own preconceptions for what living and working at the snow was going to be like. Sometimes this has been to my detriment, as when things haven't turned out the way I expected, I've discounted them. But I'm fast learning (and being reminded) that this is my time and it's not necessarily going to be like everybody else's experiences. That doesn't make it better or worse, just mine. I expected to be living in staff accommodation on the hill. Now, I'm living in a wicked house with two sisters whom I love and a kitchen which allows me to cook whatever and whenever I want.

And not only did I move in and get offered a job today, but it has started snowing.

And they say, it isn't going to stop.

Ciao for now. xo

(Not Quite) Walking on Sunshine

My apologies for the lack of blogging. It's been a tough ol' week and with all the stress of trying to find work, blogging about it has been the last thing I've felt like doing.

After travelling four hours to Banff and spending five days there, I did not return to Cranbrook a very happy camper. I attended the Sunshine Mountain job fair and interviewed for two positions - one as a liftie and one in hospitality. I felt pretty confident about how the interviews went and was told that I would hear back about the liftie position on Friday and the hospitality position on the 25th. After almost dying of anticipation, Friday came and went and I didn't recieve any exciting email in my inbox. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday - still nothing. Needless to say, I was pretty disappointed and kicking myself that I had put all my eggs in the one Sunshine Mountain basket. I now have one shot left to work on the mountain or start looking for a job in Banff itself and believe me, there are plenty of other people in that particular search party.

The real highlight of Banff - other than the breathe-taking views and the cool people I met - was for the first time in my life, I saw snow. Snow, actually coming out of the sky like confetti. Some girlfriends and myself had planned on doing a hike but on our way through town, the street suddenly clouded over and from out of nowhere, white fluffy flakes started falling from the sky. They danced their way down and dissolved as soon as they hit the pavement. It was pretty cool and I'm assured there is plenty more where they came from.

On a more upbeat note, it has been nice to return to Cranbrook for a few days. The hostel room I was staying in at the Samesun Hostel in Banff was a mixed-dorm in which I was the only girl and the snoring that issued from the other five beds could have moved mountains. Back at Steph's, I have the comfort of my own smooshy double bed, my own bathroom and the first two seasons of Laguna Beach.

Steph and her family and friends have been very attentive in ensuring I am having the ultimate Canadian experience. Steph's dad took me to an ice hockey game last night between the Kootenay Ice and the Edmonton Oil Kings, the junior league which is one level below professional. Thankfully, I had watched The Mighty Ducks (1, 2 and 3) enough times to understand most of what was going on and any of my questions were answered in detail by Steph's dad. The whole experience was very exciting, especially the parts where the 20 year-old boys smashed each other into the glass panels surrounding the rink and then got sin-binned for brawling. It's like rugby league but on ice with sticks and pucks and padding.

Okay, so nothing like rugby league but a good night out none the less.

I'm hanging out in Cranbrook for two more nights and then heading back to Banff on Friday with my can-do attitude a-blazing. There's a job out there in the snow with my name on it.

Ciao for now. xo

If You Love Canada, Put Your Hands Up!

USA. Shmoo-SA.

Canada is where it's at.

I hate to play favourites, especially given all the amazing and diverse places I've been in the last four months, but I'm sorry US of A, if you and Canada where in a beauty pagent, Canada would win the crown.

I am not even going to attempt to describe how beautiful this country is. I feel like no cliches or original lines of immaculate verse could do justice to the picturesque views that reveal themselves around every bend in the road. Since I arrived in Cranbrook, British Columbia on Saturday, I've been literally dragging my jaw behind me like a stubborn puppy. Every window I look out of, every hill I reach the top of, every valley which appears before me leaves me speechless. There is nothing in Australia and nothing I have seen in the last four months which compares to the towering mountains and kilometre after kilometre of green and gold pine trees which cover the country side. It's so beautiful, it feels like I've fallen into a postcard.

The mind-numbing, 14-hour trip to get across the American border to Canada was all worth it when I touched down in Cranbrook and was met by the happy face of Stephanie Murray, long-time friend who I met in high school while she was on exchange. As always, it felt nice to be back in the company of someone I'd known for more than a few days and even nicer when she took me back to her house and welcomed me into my own room, with a private bathroom. Is this resort living, or what?

In a wicked twist of fate, I managed to time my arrival in Canada on the weekend of Thanksgiving so Saturday and Sunday nights were spent in the company of Steph's family who introduced me to the festive holiday that celebrates the harvest. In a few words, Thanksgiving is like Christmas, but without the presents. All you do is eat. Turkey, lamb, ham, potatoes, yams, cranberries, vegetable casserole, gravy and of course, pumpkin pie. All this goes down with a few glasses of red wine and a much needed nap after the feasting is done.

While I'm calling Cranbrook home-base for now, I left today to pursue the reason I came to Canada in the first place. Work. After a four hour bus drive to Alberta which wound through even more mind-bogglingly beautiful countryside - I'm talking streams so icy blue they could be made of glass and mountains covered in the skeletons of wind-burnt pine trees - I arrived in Banff. Tomorrow, I head to my interview at the Banff Job Fair, where fingers, toes and fallopian tubes crossed, I secure myself a job and accommodation at Sunshine Mountain, where the next snowy part of my journey begins.

Everytime I arrive in a new place, I think my travels can not get any better, that my current experience can not be trumped. After arriving in Banff, anything more and I think I might die of aesthetic happiness.

PS. Except that it is FREAKING COLD!

Ciao for now. xo

Land of the Free

It has been three months and 21 days since I left the golden shores of Australia, bound for the land of the free. Since then, I have been the counselor for 27 beautiful and boistrous teenage girls, had a shaving cream fight in my bikini, swam in the Atlantic Ocean, stood at the top of the Empire State Building, eaten alligator sausage, drunk bourbon on Bourbon St, stood in Elvis Presley's living room, painted the town red in Nashville, surfed on a complete stranger's couch, eaten deep-dish pizza, gained a few too many kilos, seen the trees change in Ohio, spent a lot of time driving a lot of highways with a lot of life-changing people and stood on Carrie Bradshaw's stoop. And after three months and 21 days, my time in the United States of America has officially ended. .

My last post from the US of A is being written from the Philadelphia Airport where I arrived after a two hour bus ride from NYC at midnight. Here, sister dearest and I bid our farewells after spending the week in New York City together. I don't think there could have been a more perfect way for me to spend my last week in America. Each day I was treated to a different side of NYC's mixed personality as I trotted between the east, the west, the shabby and the chic. I bought used books from chatty roadside vendors in Greenwich only to purchase over-priced Christmas decorations from Saks Fifth Ave. I drank cocktails and coffee and marvelled at the strange creatures which inhabit this city. And the cream on top of the New York cupcake - I stood on Carrie Bradshaw's stoop. Even if I never marry or have children or publish a book, this small achievement allows me to die a happy and hopeless woman.   

Having just spent three very uncomfortable hours of the early morning sleeping on a line of chairs in the completely empty ticketing foyer, it's no suprise the Do Not Disturb-look has gone up on my face. And at 5:35 in the morning, this is only the beginning. To reach a town in the country right next door to the USA, I must survive three flights, two stop-overs and a lot of bad airplane coffee. But what, and who, wait for me on the other side are all worth it.

And with that, as my flight is called on the over-head, I must say my final farewell to the USA. Part of me feels a pang to be leaving the country that introduced me to so many 'firsts' - my first independent travel, my first camp, my first pumpkin pie. But another part of me rests assured that it won't be too long before I feast my eyes on her stars and stripes once again.

Ciao for now. xo

I'm In A Carrie Bradshaw State of Mind

It feels like I haven't been a city girl in a while. For three months, I've been living in over-sized t-shirts, denim cut-offs, canvas shoes and wearing little to no make-up. Using a hair straightner feels like a foreign concept, not to mention actually going somewhere which would require I straighten my hair. Let's just say two months of camp and one month of backpacking hasn't given me much opportunity to dress and behave like the city girl I am when at home in Sydney.

Needless to say, I felt a little rusty upon my arrival back in New York. Here I was in one of the fashion capitals of the world where I may bump into Anna Wintour at any moment, get caught in the background of a fashion shoot or get hit by a speeding cab and all my savviest, fashion-forward outfits are at home in Australia, packed in suitcases under my bed! I'm still fine-tuning how to style my new haircut and having come straight out of summer, I don't have any shoes which are suitable for the cold and rainy weather which greeted me upon arrival.

Then a man on a train, in offering me his seat, asked me if I was pregnant.

So now, not only am I unfashionable, but I am also fat.

Not quite the Carrie Bradshaw-inspired arrival I imagined for myself.

But as Alicia Keys crooned - These streets will make you feel brand new, these lights will inspire you -and within a day or two of being back in the world of high heels and candy-like cocktails, I got my groove back. I cut out bagels as one of my primary food groups, hit the gym and bought a pair of boots. With what few fashionable items I unearthed from the depths of my backpack, I threw together some savvy outfits and realised that straightening one's hair is indeed like riding a bike. Then with my credit card in one hand and my integrity in the other, I took to the NYC streets channeling the attitude of my New York oracle, Carrie Bradshaw.

Being single and fabulous in New York City is made all the more easier by staying in a swanky hotel and courtesy of my sister, who's work happened to send her to New York the exact same week that I was planning to visit, I'm thankful for getting a bit of much-appreciated red-carpet treatment at the Andaz Hotel. Not only do I get to stay in a suite which boasts its own bathroom, supply of yummy treats which are restocked daily, a flat-screen TV with cable and a big plush queen bed, but I get to share it all in the company of my sister. Our return to Hyde-Sisterhood Status was celebrated by spending Sunday trundling around Brooklyn doing what we love most - eating and taking photographs of street art.

However, with Sister Dearest here for work, the daylight hours are mine and mine alone. With the weather throwing a wet blanket over my plans to wander around the city neighbourhoods on a whim, the rain drove me inside on Monday and Tuesday. I ticked a few more tourist landmarks off my list - the Metropolitan Museum of Art (MET), Grand Central Station and the New York Public Library. That's right ladies, I stood on the staircase where Carrie Bradshaw did not marry Big.

The sun decided to co-operate this morning and lavished me with some blue sky, so it was off to Greenwich Village - what was the haunt of the artists and bohemians of the 70s but is now the stomping ground of NYU students and beautiful, if not surprisingly, overpriced apartment blocks. I found the world's most satisfying thrift store - Munk Vintage Thrifts, 175 Macdougal Street - where I bought a giant Nordstrom scarf for a tidy $15. This was followed by a cupcake from Magnolia Bakery (Sex In The City reference) which I guzzled in the Washington Square Park while writing poetry and watching wayward bohemian-types busking Bob Marley tunes. I then walked back to the subway where I accidently came across another Sex In The City landmark, the Jefferson Market Garden, which was the locale of Miranda and Steve's wedding.

And to top it all off, I'm typing this post from the window seat of my hotel where below me, the streets are full of busy New York commuters hailing taxi cabs and scurrying towards subway stations. A pipe protruding from the sidewalk billows a steady stream of white cloud into the air, which dissolves into the twilight sky as street vendors shut up shop for the night. Before my eyes, the street lights are flickering on as the city shrugs out of its business suit and slips into its evening dress code. Just like Carrie Bradshaw, New York City itself has an outfit for everything.

And here I am, writing in the middle of it.

Ciao for now. xo

You, Me and E-Town

Elizabethtown may not have a Disney World, an Empire State Building, a major museum of any significance, a major bridge of any significance or really anything of any significance, BUT it did have Kate Leibrand and to me, she is considerably significant. After a one and a half hour train trip from Philadelphia to Elizabethtown, me and my bestie from Appel Farm were finally reunited.

There may not be any major over-priced tourist attractions to visit in Elizabethtown, but the town does play host to Elizabethtown College which is an attraction in itself, especially for a tourist. I've stayed in a few college towns so far on my journey (Durham, Florida and Nashville) and while I experienced a brief game of beer pong with some Vanderbilt boys in Nashville, Elizabethtown was my first introduction to the college life in America.

And I'm happy to say, college is one more stereotype flaunted by the movies and television shows which isn't so far from the actual truth - houses host keg parties, beer is served in large plastic red cups, the boys are jocks, the girls go to Homecoming and no one really cares about their actual education. And everyone on campus eats breakfast, lunch and dinner at the same gigantic cafeteria which has a smiliarly gigantic buffet of every possible food item you could ever want to eat.

I won't fill you in on the antics of my three days in Elizabethtown, except that I took part in a fair few of those large red cups and felt their effects. Thankfully, I was able to hold my own when it came to flip cup and beer pong.

Can definitely say I'll be leaving America with one or two new skills under my expanding belt.

Ciao for now.

Flip Flip Flipadelphia

Having been on the road for the last month, moving consistently from place to place every couple of days, it was a relief to get back to good ol’ comfortable Philly. Having seen most of the tourist sites when I visited the city during camp, I didn’t feel the accountability to get out and see as much as I could every day. Having come from Canton where it was a similar story, I felt like I had checked myself into roadtrip rehab. Rather than getting up at the crack of sparrows every day, armed with my Lonely Planet and a metro card, I slept in, watched cable and ventured outside only when the fancy (or my appetite) demanded so.


Continuing to tread on the kindness of the Carmeny family, Tim again welcomed me into his home in Philly, which he shares with another Appel Farm friend, Julie. Parked on the couch directly in front of the cable, it was hard to tear myself away from marathons of America’s Next Top Model, especially with the fall weather rearing its ugly head outside. I continue to be followed by a literal black cloud, unable to escape the rain no matter where I go.

But that didn’t stop me from grabbing my umbrella and going out looking for food, usually with Tim in tow. We did bagels on South Street, margaritas on Passyunk Ave, coffee on 4th and pizza on 2nd. Not to mention mid-night snacks as we stayed up watching the Top 100 Hits of the 90s on VH1. We burned off the carbohydrates by playing Frisbee in the park where we attempted to teach an uncoordinated five year old how to toss a Frisbee without decapitating our fellow park-goers.

I even managed to turn down a morning with the Gilmore Girls to go and get my haircut – an indulgent necessity I have been battling with for the last two months. My hairdresser – bless her – tried her best to recreate the brilliance of Sydney’s Neil Moody, but alas, cut my hair an inch too short. However, as annoying as this is for the time being, does mean I can tack another few weeks onto the time period before my Rapunzel-like hair once again grows out of shape.

As it turned out, I wasn’t the only one treading on Tim and Julie’s kindness. While I couch surfed, a mouse had also decided to make itself at home in the living room. Each evening as I tried to sleep, I would be awoken to what sounded like something the size of a gorilla building a nuclear warhead. Despite our joint attempts to catch the mouse by blocking its exits and buying sticky traps, the mouse continued to remain evasive - stealing both cereal and my precious sleeping hours.

But before I could say “Out damned mouse”, I was once again packing my bags and boarding a train, bound for Elizabethtown where another greatly-missed Appel Farm face awaited me.

Ciao for now. xo