Okay, I’m just going to preface this whole post by saying that this entry is basically my food diary from the past weekend. I’m not ashamed, because it was all delicious and you will all be very jealous. However, please know that horrible, painful gym time is in my future. I regret nothing.

So I found out at about 4:36pm on Friday that this weekend is a long weekend in NZ and that I would have Monday off. At the time, I was actually kind of dreading it. The weekends have been the loneliest time here because I’ve gone from always having a plan with friends, to wondering what the hell I’m going to do to fill my time.

And that sounds sad and pathetic, but it actually hasn’t been so bad. I’ve been sleeping in until 11am, taking my time with breakfast and puttering around the house. I’ve also become kind of a regular at this little cafe called the Big Fig – I’ll go in for a couple of hours and spend time working on my laptop until the guilt from wifi thievery overcomes me, then I’ll move along.

But this weekend actually turned out to be awesome, thanks in part to my housemate, Alice. (Oh yeah, they say housemate here, not roommate. The distinction being that a roommate literally shares a room with you and a housemate shares the house). I digress.

Alice has been a complete godsend during this whole move. Much like Karin was to me in Whistler, Alice has introduced me to all her friends and invited me along on a lot of outings – so much so that I’m beginning to wonder if I’m a bother to her. But she never makes me feel unwanted or awkward or weird. I’m really going to have to find a good way to thank her.

On Thursday night, Alice had set me up with her friend Phoebe to go on a trail ride. First off, Phoebe is an amazing rider. Like, will probably compete professionally. But she was such a great riding buddy because she went at a solid pace and was so nice to show me around and explain where we were in relation to town. We also had some great chats and I didn’t realize how bad my legs were aching until the next morning when I got out of bed and was hobbling around like I was eighty years old. So I’m definitely hoping to get out with her again soon – it’s so beneficial to bike with people who are much better than me.

Moving along, I was stoked when I got home on Friday to find that I had an Amazon package. Seriously, Amazon is becoming my new favourite thing over here and although the shipping costs are murderous, the stuff I’ve been getting has all been great.

Anyway this particular package had new bedding in it! I’ve had my current bedding for about two years and after I stuffed it into a bike box (it’s white by the way, and it was alongside my greasy bike) it was definitely well past time to get some new stuff.

Mazy always used to joke that the guest room at Dad’s house was called the “Walmart Room” because everything in there was bought almost exclusively at Walmart. Well, after getting my new bedding, Alice and I did a trip on Saturday to Queenstown to go to K-Mart. It just opened there and on this side of the world, it’s akin to an Ikea coming to town (just to put it in perspective for you, Mom).

So, move over Walmart Room, because I now present to you… THE K-MART ROOM.

After visiting K-Mart, Alice and I went into Queenstown town centre and for a hot minute, I was worried. Because Queenstown is awesome.

It reminds me of a weird mix of Halifax and Whistler. It’s similar to Halifax in that it has a boardwalk along the lakeside (which is a tidal lake by the way – I’ve never heard of that). It also has the old stone buildings and cobblestone alleyways.

However, it’s very much like Whistler because it’s super tourist-y. There were so many people wandering the streets and crowding. I didn’t hear one person speak in a Kiwi accent. Similarly, it’s shockingly occasional to run into a Canadian in Whistler.

I really loved it there though, it felt like a real tiny city with lots of shops and brands that I recognized. And while I know that living there would’ve just been like living in another Whistler and probably would’ve inhibited me from truly experiencing the “real” New Zealand, I couldn’t help but wonder if I would’ve liked it better there.

Don’t get me wrong, I love Wanaka. But sometimes it does feel very small and quiet.

While I mulled over these thoughts, we stopped at taco shack down by the water and got what was probably the best fish taco I’ve ever had.

We then wandered the alleyways of Queenstown, popping into different stores and galleries before slowly making our way back to the car.

On the way home, I continued to think about my inner Queenstown vs. Wanaka battle. And I began to realize that I don’t need to pick one. I am deadset on buying a car and I realized that I need to not limit myself in NZ like I did in Whistler.

I’ll explain. When I lived in Whistler, I was deep in the “bubble”. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, because I figured I was already in the best place on earth. So I didn’t explore. I never visited Vancouver Island, I didn’t get to Haida Gwaii, I barely visited any of the interior resorts. And as a result, I sometimes feel that I robbed myself of a true West Coast experience. And while I know that I’ll be back on the West Coast, I have no intention of repeating that mistake here in NZ. Hence, the car. And while I can hear Dad’s voice in the back of my head droning on about how “a car is the worst investment you could ever make”. It’s not about the car per se this time around, it’s about the freedom.

Anyway, after we got back from Queenstown, some of Alice’s friends came round (came round = came over) and we had some wine on the back patio and watched the dogs play (a daschund and a french bulldog – you can imagine how I lost my shit).

The next day, Sunday, I was honestly relieved that I wouldn’t have to work on Monday. I had barely gotten any “adulting” done and I was hoping get to the lake – it’s now feeling like summer here; it’s 20 degrees everyday.

Luckily, Alice and her friend Rachel were headed down to the lake, so I tagged along. But first, ice cream.

We then hopped in the car and drove to Lake Hawea, which is about twenty minutes from Wanaka. It’s a much quieter lake with a lot of wakeboard boats moored along the beach. We sat on the sand and tanned, occasionally entertaining the idea of getting in the water, but ultimately being deterred by the frigid temperature.

I really wish my iPhone photos did this lake justice, because it was so beautiful. The water was this turquoise colour and the mountains in the background just made it look heavenly. I keep forgetting to take my camera on these outings and even when I do, it’s more of nuisance because it’s so big. I’m really eyeing a Sony A7 because it’s small and it’ll fit my lenses, but it’s on the wishlist along with my car. It’ll come.

When we decided that we had baked in the sun for long enough, we got back in the car and went to get fish and chips. Being that the Kiwis and Aussies are historic transplants of the English, they have a passion for their fish and chips. We stopped at this cool little roadside vendor and ordered the “Fish of the Day” special, which happened to be elephant fish on this day. I had no idea what that was, but it tasted pretty good. The meal was served in a paper bag – the “proper” way to eat fish and chips, I’m told. I thought it was awesome. We took our paper bags down to the riverside and ate at a picnic table while watching mountain bikers pedal across the ridgeline above us. Real life.

And that brings us to today. Holiday Monday. I slept in again today until 11am and then got up, cleaned and vacuumed my room and did some laundry. Then came down to Big Fig to start writing this post. I’m back at work again tomorrow for Week 3. Whew, time flies.

Alright, so that’s the rundown of my week. I’m thinking I’m going to try to do these little updates once a week on the weekends, because the work days just seem too busy to keep up. But that’s kind of a good thing, right?

• JB

Whoa, two posts in two days – Damian is going to be stoked.

Gotta give the people what they want though eh?

After rolling out of bed at 11:30 this morning (wine ensued last night), I decided that I would take time on this beautiful sunny Sunday to finally get some photos of Wanaka.

My intent was to go out and get photos of the Wanaka Tree (official name), but I ended up taking my time walking along the lake shore and catching some other shots as well. It’s great to get out and practice, but I’m finding myself getting more and more frustrated with my camera. Which is both good and bad. Good, because I’m getting to a point with my photography where I feel that I’ve outgrown my starter camera. But bad because after you move past a Canon Rebel, it gets considerably more expensive. Sigh. I don’t know why I’m always attracted to the most expensive hobbies.

Anyway, I won’t bore you with too many words. Here are some of my shots from today!

But these were just too funny to not share (unedited)

 

Look at these little fools.

• JB

Oh would you look at that, two of my favourite things.

It’s been a long week consisting of on-boarding meetings, co-worker introductions and the occasional awkward moment.

But that’s not to say it hasn’t been fun. The office is all open-concept and everyone is pretty awesome and inclusive. Plus they do beer on Friday.

 

So, I can get on board with that.

On Thursday night, I had my first go in the bike trails in Wanaka. A couple of peeps from work were heading over to an area called Sticky Forest and invited me to come along.

This was intimidating for two reasons, 1) I’ve never ridden Sticky Forest but had been told it was quite flowy. Flow means that there’s usually more jumps and berms. I’ve always liked tech better – which means there’s more natural obstacles, like rock gardens, rock rolls and roots.

The other reason I was feeling a little “meh” was because I knew that everyone riding was really good. I was not wrong on this front. I was with two guys and another chick from the office and they could haul. ass. I was so puffed but the time we got to the top of what otherwise would’ve been a mellow climb.

However, I was wrong about not liking flow. The flow here is significantly better than what I’ve ridden in Whistler. It’s not massive “you’re-going-to-kill-yourself” jumps, it’s more like playful launch pads and gaps. It was super fun and you could really get into it.

Plus the views didn’t hurt.

After four or five laps, I was done and my legs were waaay past done. But God, it feels great to ride again and even though I trailed behind the group a little bit, I feel like I held my own and I’m stoked to get back into the trails again try some of the them by myself.

Last night, the women of the Mons office went out for girls night where we had some wine and then joined up with the guys at another bar called Cork. It was pretty fun and didn’t get too out of hand, which is great because I still feel like passing out at 8pm.

I feel like maybe I should’ve stayed a bit later last night – when I first got to Whistler, I made a ton of friends by being out and going to the bars and clubs. And maybe it’s because I’m still a little jetlagged or tired from on-boarding week, but I just didn’t really feel like staying out. And I do worry about how that might affect making friends, but for now, I’m just trying to do what I want and not compare my Wanaka experience to Whistler too much.

• JB

 

Today was my first day at Mons Royale.

And leaving the house this morning, I couldn’t help but feel like I did in junior high as I headed off for the first day of school. Backpack on, lunch packed, nervous for what the new school year might bring.

But just like back in those days, the first day at work brought excitement and anticipation and the promise of good things to come. It’s incredible to feel passion for what I’m doing again.

I could regale you with tales of HR monotony and retail manufacturing processes, but instead, I want to talk about a particular moment in the day that struck me.

It was when the Mons CEO, Hamish, was telling us about how he started his company. It was born out of his passion for skiing. And it was at that moment that I realized my whole life is built on that same foundation.

To bring you back to junior high again for a second, I remember being told by a particularly petulant friend that skiing wasn’t a real sport. That the weekends upon weekends that I had spent on-mountain wasn’t “training”.

At the time, I was furious. But today, I realized she was right. It’s not a sport – it’s so much more than that.

Skiing is where I made some of my best friends. It’s where I learned about failure and disappointment and ultimately, that unbeatable feeling of success. It’s camaraderie, discipline and commitment – because you need all three of those things to sit on a chairlift in a downhill suit in minus fucking 30 degrees.

It’s chaos before you get into the start gate of a race and calming quietude as you wait for the go-ahead, looking down at the course. The same quietude I’ve encountered on a powder day in Whistler, as I’ve huddled amongst hundreds of others in a chilly gondola line, dreaming of the first surf in the snow.

It’s that high you get when you float on newly-fallen powder. That beautiful snap in the apex of your skis when you hit a turn just right and launch into the next arc. It’s that wash of snow that curves into a wave over you when you begrudgingly come to a stop.

Without skiing, I wouldn’t have gone to Mount Allison University – a decision I made because I wanted to be close to my home hill.

I wouldn’t have ended up in Whistler.

I wouldn’t now be in New Zealand.

I wouldn’t be working for Mons.

How many people can say that a sport they participated in when they were a kid shaped their whole life?

She was right, that friend from way back when; it’s not a sport. It’s a way of life – an unstoppable magnetic force that pulls us to the mountains. And the beautiful thing about Whistler and Wanaka is, that that force unites us all.

Today was the first day and I’m so happy to feel like I’m amongst people who get it. People who know that skiing isn’t just a sport. It’s a gift.

• JB

 

Let’s rewind a bit, shall we?

Three weeks ago, I was intent on getting travel insurance. Mostly because, preparedness is engrained in me – but in a way that’s not sane. Seriously, you should see the size of the bag I take on overnight trips.

But, I soon discovered that you could only get travel insurance for up to 3/4 of a year and well, that wasn’t going to cut it for my purposes. So I did a little research and found that I could get insurance here in NZ under my working holiday visa. Only thing was, I had to be in the country to apply. Cool, I’ll sort that when I get there.

Except, I didn’t expect to end up needing to see a doctor on my second day in NZ. And not to worry, everything is fine; I just needed a prescription. The catch here, is that I’m a spoiled Canadian who is accustomed to my oh-so-free-healthcare that permits me the luxury of visiting a doctor whenever my nose so much as runs a little. (Which, because I’m a hypochondriac, I do.)

So an appointment that would’ve cost me nothing at home, put me back $200 here. Ouch. Just another thing I’m going to have to get used to.

But the day wasn’t all bad. After my doctor’s appointment, I went and got a coffee in town and then sat on the lake’s edge and tried to stop rubbing my eyes in disbelief that this is my new view.

Tomorrow is my first day at Mons Royale and I’m a little nervous. It’s been my dream to work for a company in the biking/skiing industry. But now I’m worried I don’t know enough about the sports themselves. Fake it ’til you make it? We’ll see.

• JB

Okay look, I have no idea what I’m doing here.

I’m not necessarily talking about New Zealand (I mean, yes I have no idea what I’m doing here in that sense either), I’m talking about blogging.

I’ve fucked around with this Customize thing for about two hours now and I’m finally just going with what I’ve got so far. Maybe someday I’ll unlock the secrets of all the cool things you can supposedly do. Probably not. My attention span is limited. But if anyone knows how to get my icon off of my header image, holla.

Alright, here I am. Wanaka. This is the thing that’s been looming over me for about three weeks now and I’ve lost countless hours of sleep trying to imagine what it would be like. It’s nothing like I thought. But that’s not a bad thing.

Whilst dragging two 70lb bags and a bulky bike box through customs in Auckland, it occurred to me that I might have made a mistake. Whistler was my home away from home, a place that I’ve known I would love since the first time I visited when I was twelve. The idea of leaving was foreign and terrifying and I almost said no. This whole feeling dissolved when the clouds parted above Queenstown and gave me this view from the plane.

Instantly, I felt at ease. Maybe it was going to be okay.

After landing, I took a bus from Queenstown to Wanaka and it dropped me off in front of Lake Wanaka. The strip of shops and restaurants in front of the lake is adorable and very Whistler-esque. It made me feel more at home. One last haul of the bags to the house and I was done. I had made it.

My house is pretty great. Modern, with a huge balcony that overlooks the mountains. It’s about a kilometre out of the city centre which for people from Wanaka is “a bit of a ways away”; gives you an idea of how big the town is. My housemates consist of a Scot, an Irishman and an Aussie. So we’re pretty diverse.

Even though I was exhausted from traveling, when the Mons crew invited me out for a Friday bevy, I couldn’t say no. Plus, after 24 hours of talking solely to airport employees, I needed some real socialization.

It was so great to meet everyone and sit in the sun with a cider. And to be warm again. Escaping Whistler winter and opting for a New Zealand summer was an awesome idea.

We were set up in the backyard of the Districts Club, which, as the one Kiwi who acted as my Canadian translator explained, is like a legion. I think there’s going to be more of a cultural divide here than I expected; when I asked if it was table or bar service everyone looked at me funny; apparently table service does not exist in NZ. Also, I caught some laughs for my pronunciation of the word bar. Canadians are heavy on our “R”s. NZ-ers, not so much…

“Kiwis say bah. Like the sound sheeps make.”

Oh.

I passed out at 8:30pm last night, ready to cozy into a real bed and woke up ready to explore today. Walking around and taking in my surroundings, I was reminded of how difficult it was to navigate the Village Stroll when I first arrived in Whistler. It’s a bit of a comforting thought, as the lay-out of Wanaka is a total mystery to me right now. But just as I mastered Whistler, I will hopefully do the same here.

As I roamed town, I found that everyone here is lovely. I’m hyper aware of the fact that I sound like I’m not from here and I’m trying to be as non-rookie as possible. But I think it shows through. Luckily, Kiwis are so friendly and seem really keen to help out and explain things to me. I remember when I first got to Sonderborg in Denmark a couple of years ago, I often felt like an idiot for not knowing the language or making cultural mistakes. I haven’t felt like that here yet; all I’ve felt is this overwhelming sense of welcomeness. Plus, I only got called an American once.

Walking home, I felt more and more like everything is going to work out. This view from the end of my street helped though.

That’s all for now. Tomorrow, I’m going to finally get my bike back into one piece and maybe check out Sticky Forest – the local trail-riding area. If you’re still reading, thanks for sticking with me. I promise things will get more interesting as I go along… or at least they tend to.

• JB