I Come From The Land Down Under

Ever since leaving home, there has been one celebration I have looked forward to with great expectation.

I considered my birthday, Halloween, Christmas and New Years Eve combined to be nothing in comparison to celebrating the one day a year when Australians are allowed to do what we do best - eat vegemite and meat pies, sizzle sausages, wear wife-beaters, reap the sunny rewards of our hole in the ozone layer and drink beer. Lots and lots of beer.

Usually, I would do all this in a bikini on the shoreline of my favourite Australian beach.

This year, I did it on the snowy plateau of Sunshine Village.

In Banff, Australia Day is regarded by Canadian locals and non-Australian internationals as the only acceptable day to stay as far away from the ski hill as humanly possible. For Australians, it's regarded as the one day when we can drink, eat, wear and behave like the rowdy bogans we all know we are, while standing in -15 weather.

Dressed in as much Australian paraphernalia as I could don - Australian flag shirt, Australian flag tattoos, Australian flag banadana and... an Australian flag, I made my way to the top of hill by 11am. Unlike many of the other Aussies celebrating in Banff, I did not stay up until the crack of dawn to see in Triple J's Hottest 100 song. Bright-eyed, bushy tailed and  flag-bearing, I snowboarded my favourite runs and then headed to Trappers

where an organised staff party was being held complete with VB and Toohey's Extra Dry bottles, 'Aussie' burgers with a beef pattie, fried egg, beetroot, pineapple, tomato and lettuce, home-made meat pies and a hundred of my closest, drunkest, rowdiest Australian 'mates'.

After I'd drank a few too many Toohey's - affectionately referred to as Teddy's and of which I wouldn't ever otherwise drink if it weren't for the sake of national pride - and initiated a few too many Jager shots, it was fair to say I was in a pretty good mood. I went snowboarding, which at the time seemed like the smartest idea, but in retrospect was probably the wintery equivalent of drinking and driving and where I would have certainly lost my license had snow patrol been bearing breathelizers. Being alcoholically-fueled however, proved a great source of confidence on the slopes and I probably fell over less than if I was stone-cold sober as well as just plain stone-cold.

I may have been tipsy from the alcohol, but what made me all the more drunk was the pure happiness of simply being from Australia and celebrating my home-country like I had never celebrated if before. Sure, there was the occassional pang for home as I thought about how I would have spent the day lying at Tamara Beach with Sister Dearest, but surrounded by Aussies shouting 'Oi Oi Oi' and my neighbours attempting to toboggan down Strawberry run on a blowup Australian thong, I certainly felt more Australian than all the Australia Days I'd spent at home.

And while I may be losing my Australian accent more and more and consider watching ice hockey more thrilling than cricket, I still try to walk down the left hand side of the pathway.

I haven't converted just yet.

Ciao for now. xo

To Cranbrook, With Love

As much as I love Banff - living in the ski town, working on a ski hill, snowboarding down Angel run in the sunny afternoons, seeing the snow pile up on our balcony, playing foosball at the Gap, even finding a kind of satisfaction in slipping over on the icy walkways - sometimes a girl can get a bit tired of it all. The incestuous nature of living in a ski town, dragging my tired ass one hour up a hill to go to work where I get stiffed the tip off a $100 bill, falling on my ass too many times as I come down Angel run on a windy afternoon, the water leaking into my bedroom as the snow on the balcony melts, being refused entry to the Gap because it's too crowded and not being able to walk out the front door without wearing a pair of iceskates.

So when Banff loses its sunny appeal, I pack up and return 'home' to Steph Murray in Cranbrook.

It had been four months since my initial visit to Cranbrook and while little had changed in my favourite Canadian town, it was a relief to see Cranbrook's fast-food strip and somehow feel like I had returned home. But my trip back wasn't without effort. After a few days of epic snowing, Mother Nature smighted my attempts to leave Banff and caused an avalanche on the BC/Alberta border. What should have been an easy four hour journey on the Greyhound (my favourite form of transport in Northern America), I ended up spending nine very mind-numbing and sinus-aggravating hours travelling the long way through Calgary and Fernie before finally making it to C-Brook at 5am in the morning.

Another memorable trip to add to my list of Greyhound adventures.

But after a long sleep (in my OWN room) and a shower (in my OWN bathroom) the slog was definitely made worthwhile. As Steph went to school and work, I set up permanent residence on the couch were I wasted my way through the third season of The Hills and played her out-of-tune piano like it was a Broadwood Grand and I was Billy Joel. I went to Boston Pizza, ate some Dairy Queen, went to a junior league hockey game and spent some quality time enjoying life outside of the Banff bubble.

And I got my hair cut - every tired, down-and-out girl's saving grace.

So I returned to Banff feeling relaxed, renewed and rejuvenated and like I'd missed it - just the tiniest bit.

Ciao for now. xo

Home Is Where The Water Is

When I left Australia for the great unknown, I was sent off by my family and friends with the well wishes of health and safety. It never occured to me to wish it back to them.

But as the majority of Queensland, not to mention my two home towns of Gympie and Brisbane, continue to be battered by Mother Nature's unrelenting hand, I can only hope that my wishes of health and safety to my friends and family haven't come to late.

I may be thousands of kilometres from home, but my thoughts go out to not only those I hold dear, but every family and furry friend who has been affected by the torrential flooding that has hit Queensland in the last month. 40 days and 40 nights of wet and wild weather has seen lives lost and and whole towns washed away, not to mention billions of dollars damage to homes, farm land and our agricultural livelihood. The Sydney Morning Herald has described it as being like 'an inland tsunami' with enough power to wash away cars, water tanks and refridgerators. With Gympie also swamped by the influx of water, I appreciate the concern many of you have shown for my parents. Thankfully, our home is not in a position to be affected by the flooding and both my parents and our house are safe and sound.

With Brisbane next to suffer the wrath of the floods that have already destroyed so much, I pray that my friends stay safe and dry and the city that I love can hold its breathe in the face of Queensland's most devastating natural disaster.

My thoughts go out to all of you.

Ciao for now. xo

Banffing In The New Year

Happy New Year!

So I'm nine days late. Cut a girl some slack.

I welcomed the end of 2010 and the bright shiney future of 2011 in the main street of Banff, surrounded by hundreds of drunk, probably high, if not completely pilled up, party-goers. While the only drugs in my system where some vodka and the sheer joy of waving goodbye to what has been a turbulent 2010, I still had a memorable and enjoyable new years eve. But let's face it - after I up-ended in a garden bed, lost a hoop earring, most of the skin off my shins and the entirity of my dignity at last year's celebration, 2011 would have had to bring something pretty mean to top 2010. But with the worst being that I smashed my favourite mug on the floor of my neighbour's house party, I've got a good feeling about where 2011 is heading.

And to start the new year off, my housemate's and I decided it was time to head out beyond our Banff boundaries and explore our other local landmark, Lake Louise. The Lake is located about 40 minutes from Banff and while being as the name suggests, a lake, Lake Louise is also the sister ski-hill to Sunshine Village, which means employees of either ski for free. Being a steeper mountain to Sunshine, the terrain is a lot different and while the snow machines keep the runs covered, boarding on real powder verses fake powder is like eating meat and then living of tofu for the rest of your life. But the idea was to board outside our comfort zone and I would rather board on fake powder, than no powder at all.

With the Christmas/New Year mania over, business has slowed right down at Sunshine which is a major relief to its staff. And as Mother Nature's christmas gift to us, she rolled in the clouds and sent a massive snow dump our way, just in time for the majority of the mountain to come down with the flu. And when one worker bee gets a cold, they share it with the whole hive (and we all know how that happens, don't we...). With most of us laid up on the couch watching Friends reruns (okay, so maybe that's just me) and the snow falling like wedding confetti outside, you could say it's been a slow, painful start to 2011.

But powder is powder, and even if I'm not out in it, I'm not complaining.

Ciao for now. xo