What I've Learnt From Living in Banff, Canada

After eight months of living in the Land of Maple Syrup, I have officially left Banff and therefore, Canada. A couple of tough goodbyes, not to mention a teary farewell at Calgary Airport with the people I have shared every waking moment, every drunken night, every drunken drama, every snowboard stack and every game of pool, reassured me that my time in Canada has left me a changed person.


You certainly can't spend eight months in a foreign country - even Canada - and not learn a little something about yourself and the place that you've temporarily called home.

So here are a couple of things I've learnt about Canada, Canadians and what it's like to exist in their country.

1. Tim Hortons - the purveyor of doughnuts, 'doughnut holes' (referred to by CAers as TimBits), bagels and other sugary treats and the brewer of what CAers consider to be gourmet coffee - is not just a Canadian institution, but a deliciously cheap religious experience.

2. Just like How I Met Your Mother insinuates, Canadians really do put 'eh' on the end of everything, therefore turning everything into a question. It's such a strange custom, eh?

3. Eight months living in a ski town has turned me into a professional at pool. I am also in the draft to turn pro at foosball - wicked attack line. Not so great at defence.

4. Clamato juice and tomato juice are two different things.

5. Which brings me to ceasers. While at first I turned my nose up at Canada's national beverage, I can't deny I have developed quite a thirst for these little cocktail concoctions. Vodka, clamato juice (which, for the life of me, I STILL don't know what is made out of), a splash of tobasco, a shake of worcestershire, a couple of olives and a green bean, all topped off in a celery salt rimmed glass. Hello, I'm drunk.

7. Don't live in Banff if you don't like Jagermeister. Something like 30 per cent of all Jager is ingested in Banff (Okay, so that's not a real statistic. But when you’re knocking back the 50 bazillionth shot of jager in the last two hours, it sure as hell feels true). Statistic or not, live in Banff and be prepared to drink Jager like its running water.

8. After a surprisingly drunk night where we both woke up asking, "What the hell happened?", Housemate Maadi and I decided, under no circumstances, should we be left at home alone with a bottle of Housemate Luke's Jager, a ski shooter and a couple of leftover party hats.

9. Ski shooter = a ski with four or five shot glasses attached to it, wherein the people shotting must hold the ski, lift it together and drink their shot all at the same time. Inability to do this results in Jager down your front.

10. When it's -15 degrees outside and your freezer is too full to hold the giant punnet of vanilla ice cream you bought for Christmas, you would think putting it outside on the patio would keep it frozen. This isn't true. The ice cream melts and gluttonous deer try to eat it.

11. In a similar idea, leaving cans of coke out on the patio in -15 degree weather doesn't keep the coke cold. It makes the cans explode.

12. When you live in a ski town and you want some coke, be sure to call it coca cola. Coke is something different altogether.

13. Every national or international holiday, regardless of whether you celebrate it in your own country or not, are guaranteed to be celebrated in Banff. Drunkenly.

14. Being a musician in Banff is surprisingly lucrative. I think it comes down to hotels, bars and establishments being kind of lazy when it comes to finding talent, not when they can simply steal their competitors' instead. And I'm certainly not complaining. In all seriousness though, Banff is extremely supportive of local artists and being a musician as your full time job is certainly do-able.

15. When it's -30 degrees outside, never underestimate how many layers you can actually wear. However, no matter how many thermals you put on under your jeans or how many t-shirts you wear under your coat, your hair, your eyelashes and your snot will still freeze.

16. Living in a house with four girls, results in a lot of hair ending up tangled around the drain. It's embarrassing when the hot plumber has to come over and yank it out.

17. No matter what the boys in your house think at the time, finding an 80s exercise bike on the side of the street is like striking gold. It might rattle a bit when you ride it, but it makes for the best clothes horse.

18. Milk and bread crates stolen from the backdoor of the pub make for the best shoe racks.

19. Give it eight months and you're guaranteed to become as freaking ice hockey-crazed as every other puck enthusiast in the country.

20. Canada might be Australia's version of New Zealand - the USA's overshadowed side-kick who gets bullied and poked-fun at - but after eight months of living there, you're quick to realise that the side-kick has his own attributes to offer. I may have been on the other side of the world, but I found commonalities between Oz and Canada which made me feel strangely at home. And it's the reason I intend on returning and moving to Vancouver in August.

Ciao for now, Canada. xo

Luck of the Irish

I'm going to skip the part where I apologise for, once again, letting an entire month go by without posting anything about my travels. 

Instead, I'm going to move right along to St Patrick's Day.

It seems one thing Banff knows how to do (other than be blisteringly cold) is celebrate holidays which have nothing much to do with the town or Canada itself. Much like Australia Day, St Patrick's Day is celebrated with all the green gusto Ireland has to offer, thanks to its community of Irish ex-pats. In fact, it's incredible the amount of people of sudden Irish-descent who crawl out of the woodwork when this holiday rolls around every year.

However, it seems celebrating the shamrock is as good an excuse as any to wear as much greenery as possible and drink until your thirsty again, no matter what your citizenship.

And if it's one thing the locals of Banff feel comfortable doing it's getting dressed up, getting drunk and ultimately making fools of themselves.

Which, of course, is exactly what we did. I wouldn't want to mess around with tradition now.

After a few beers at Bruno's (it was a Thursday night afterall and therefore my musical duties were required. I wore a hat in the shape of an over-flowing pint especially for the occassion), we headed to the ever lovely HooDoo nightclub, a hot spot frequented by old men with bloodshot eyes and roaming hands who've confused themselves for being 30 years younger than what they are. The old men were few and far between once us young-ens took over the dance floor with all the bravado of Michael Flatley. Lucky for my housemates and I, we had practiced our best Riverdance kicks in the comfort of our own kitchen before leaving the house.

Okay, so it was under the supervision of a few vodka-cokes.

Fiddle-dee-dee potatoes.

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

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

Halloweening (Off-a the Candy)

It's been an eventful week in Banff, Alberta as me and my new housemates settled into our new home and tried to establish some sort of normalcy in our lives.  But it's hard to feel normal when every day seems to offer up some new Canadian experience.

This week, it was Halloween.

The costumes were outrageous, the candy consumed phenomenal and I'm not even talking about the kids. Trick-or-Treat is a child's game. Trick-or-Try-and-get-as-drunk-as-possible-while-dressed-up-in-a-skantily-clad-costume is the adult interpretation.

Halloween at the Muskrat St house didn't get off to a stereotypical start. We left it until the day of Halloween to buy our pumpkin to carve, only to find out that Banff, and probably the entirity of Alberta, was completely sold out of pumpkins. We didn't bother to buy any candy to hand out and none of our costumes were inspired by porn stars or showed a jaw-dropping amount of flesh (it's just too damn cold for that sort of thing).

But dress up we did - a pirate, an 80s skier, an All Black and a rastifarian - and when we woke the next morning, the demolished pumpkin heads lining the streets weren't the only heads that felt like they'd been kicked in.

This week also marked my first day of work and my first visit to the top of Sunshine Mountain (I was, quite literally, walking on Sunshine). I met the team I'll be working with over the next eight months, started the mass preparation that is setting up Trappers and got a feel for what life is going to be like working up on the mountain. As Sunshine isn't officially open yet (and won't open for at least another week), a lot of the runs remain untouched. That's right, smooth, white untouched powder - like icing on a cake - just begging to be carved across.

And carve across it I will on my beautiful new Arbor snowboard, which waits patiently for me at the ski and snow store in Banff. With my official start day at Trappers still a week away and pay day another fortnight after that, I haven't been able to formally purchase my snowboarding gear and have consequently, set up lay-by debts in multiple stores around Banff. It's either eat, or buy my board. Tricky... very tricky.

But the real blast out of the blue this week came in the form of an open mic night at Bruno's Bar and Grill. Still living a little off the high of performing at Appel Farm, I put myself back on stage and busted out a few original songs at the open mic night for a crowd of appreciative music fans. What resulted was the supervisor asking me to play a regular set at the bar every Thursday night, unpaid but compensated in drinks. It's going to be advertised in the local newspaper, my new friend Jay-the-bongo-player is going to back me up on percussion, they're going to provide me with a guitar to play on and I get to play whatever I want.

Missy Higgins, here I come.

Ciao for now. xo

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