I'm Dreaming Of A White Christmas

How I was going to survive Christmas away from the folks and friends was always a major concern when I was planning my trip. The idea of not returning to Gympie, not having a big breakfast with my family, opening presents, stuffing our faces and drinking a lot of white wine made me slightly fearful of the holiday season. Would Santa find me in Banff, Alberta?

Santa may not have found me (let's be honest, I haven't been a very good girl this year..) and I may not have been in the company of my blood relatives, but I still celebrated Christmas with my family - my Banff family, that is.

Sitting in the living room of my house, surrounded by snow and the people I have come to love and rely on, I could not have felt more blessed. It made me so aware of just how lucky I have been on my journey so far - to constantly be provided with health, safety and good company, no matter where I have found myself. Here I was, a million kilometres away from home, surrounded by twelve people who had all managed to meet each other in the same place, at the same time, for whatever reason and I never felt quite so at home.

In honour of the festive season, we cooked our friends an epic Christmas feast complete with cranberry sauce, baked potatoes, vegetables, gravy and a turkey - stuffed, basted and cooked by yours truly. That's right, not only did I put my hand up a raw turkey but I managed to cook the damn thing with out giving anyone food poisoning. This goes down as one of my greatest travel achievements thus far.

So, much to my relief, I didn't spend Christmas curled up in my bed, crying over my absence from my family and lamenting the delicious meal I know my mother would have cooked. I thought of them fondly, missed them as much as I could allow myself to and carried on celebrating my first white Christmas alongside our cardboard cut-out tree (we're travel junkies on a budget, after all).

Ciao for now.

Happy Half Anniversary, Kristen Hyde

I know it's been awhile since I posted last. I've been a tardy blogger which means I've been a tardy traveller too. After all the excitement of the USA - moving to a new city every few days and finding new adventures to write about - my life in Canada has fallen into a routine. Work, boarding, work, boardring, partying, boarding, work. And sometimes I sleep. But mostly I board.

But I couldn't let today go past without posting, as today is my six month overseas anniversary. Correct-o, I've been an ex-pat for six months. I can't believe that half a year has gone by since I was hugging my parents farewell at Brisbane airport. I've been lugging the same backpack around for the last six months, wearing the same clothes and thinking the same thought that there really is no better way to live. Seeing new things and meeting new people and being so far outside of your comfort zone you don't even recognise yourself. The only buzz-kill is the thought of one day going home. But after six months of travelling and everything that goes with it - the occassional homesickness for your own bed, your own cupboard, breakfast at Le Monde and Tamarama Beach - even home has its merits.

But for now, I'm in Banff and (I'm sorry, family and friends) I'm not going anywhere too soon. Especially now that I have my brand new snowboard in my posession. With all the fresh snow dumping out of the sky and tired of having a debt to my name, I decided to just buy my board and deal with the after-effects of being poor and not being able to drink or eat. Moving from my neighbour's beat up Capita to my untouched Arbor was like driving a rusty old pick-up truck and then upgrading to a Mercedes Benz. The new board not only looks like a dream but turns like she's on rails, which is a vast improvement on the Capita which was like trying to steer a cruise ship on ice. Needless to say, the amount of time I spend boarding verses the amount of time I spend falling on my ass is now greatly outweighed thanks to Betsy.

Yes, I named the board.

Other interesting things that have happened in Banff include the Muskrat Street House losing one housemate and acquiring two new ones, acquiring enough movie files to start our own illegal movie store (including The Neverending Story which just isn't the same when you're 23), taking up yoga and not knowing how I've lived my entire life without it and implementing the tradition of $8 Steak Night every Tuesday at the Elk and Horseman.

And then there's wanting to get my ear pierced again, but that's another story for another time.

Ciao for now. xo

Bless Me Father, For I Am Travelling

I spent the better part of yesterday morning reading back over my blogs from camp and the earlier posts of my travels around America. I do this every now and again, as narcisistic as that might seem. Sometimes it's to torture myself at how much I still miss Appel Farm and the friends I made there. Sometimes it's to comfort myself. Sometimes it's to gain a little perspective.

I've been in Canada for two months now and consider myself fairly settled.  I have friends who are more like family, a job that drags my butt out of bed each day and a local pub where the bouncer no longer bothers to check my ID. I don't have to plan how or where I'm going to get my dinner each night or fight for a position in front of the stove in a hostel kitchen. I have my own kitchen cupboard and a shelf in the fridge and cooking a healthy dinner for myself remains a blessing I can count. In all respects, I feel like I've established a life in Banff.

Which is why I return to my blog posts every now and again - to remind myself that as settled as I might be, I am still a traveller. My feet might be grounded for six months, my backpack empty and stored in the cupboard beneath the stairs, its contents easily accesible in my bedroom closet. But just like when I was jumping buses every other day, bound for a new city with temporary friends and uncomfortable hostel beds, I should still be waking up each morning with that zeal for travelling, that appreciation for everything around me and everything I am experiencing, no matter how settled I might feel.

I remembered this yesterday when I was boarding at Sunshine. I was walking to the gondola with a snowboard under one arm and the snow beneath my feet and I remembered how removed I am from the life I was living in Sydney. Once upon a time I was sitting at my kitchen table struggling to believe I would ever be able to tell travel stories like my family and now travel stories are my reality. Tomorrow, I will go to work on a snow-capped mountain in a country on the other side of the world to my own.

Tomorrow is another day of travelling.

Ciao for now. xo