Gone Postal: Hotel Postal

The very first summer Candace and I were married we were doing a bunch of rock-climbing and living in an interesting little place in Squamish. Interesting, because across the street from us sat the object of most of our dinner conversations: a house that became known to us as “The Crazy House.”

We were never quite sure who lived in the Crazy House nor did we know if anyone actually lived in the Crazy House. The yard was always littered with kayaks, climber’s sorting gear, mountain bikes, skis, dogs, hippies, and skidoo parts. Parking was a commodity and the sheer number of road-tripping license plates assured there would eventually be some by-law made to control these people.

The Crazy House, it seemed, was a place only to shower, sleep, keep the beer cold, and tell grandiose mountain stories before moving on to the next place. And, though we know Whistler has its fair share of crazy houses, we never imagined ours would become the place people would refer to while saying, “Hey, I have a friend in Whistler – you could probably crash there.”

I do understand why people say that though; Whistler is amazing. With the huge opportunity to play in the mountains, eat great food, and party down it is of little wonder there are traffic jams every weekend. It came as no surprise, then, when we started telling people we’d be making the move to Whistler, the common response was, “Must be nice. We’ll have to come visit.”

And people weren’t kidding! Visit, they have. Had we moved to the Canary Islands people would’ve said the same thing, but the drive isn’t as good. And so, in our first few months of living in Whistler, there has not been a single week there have not been guests in our home for at least a couple nights at a time. In fact, it is looking like our sleeping closet, floor space, and couch is running at a no-vacancy rate all the way into mid-May.

For some reason, people just like coming to Whistler.

Of course, being the owner/operator of my very own crazy house means I also wear the hats of tour operator and local knowledge buff. All fine and dandy except being so new to Whistler ourselves, we hardly know where to point people. And though we are building a list of things to do and see, your suggestions are always welcomed.

Easily the best perk of living in a house with a revolving door of visitors is, occasionally, we get free babysitting out of the gig. This week was one of those great weeks as Candace and I got to head up the mountain for the first time together! While usually one of us needs to stay home with one or both of the kids while the other high-fives their friends and explores Whistler, this week it was just the two of us snuggling on a chairlift. Awesome.

Anyhow, if you do end up in our sleeping closet, or if that isn’t available and you end up on the floor or a couch, you can at least expect to be fed well. Candace makes an awesome beef barley soup and fresh bread combo that will make you never want to leave – but please, this is not our intention.

Thanks for visiting!! Our first few months have been a blast.

Article source: http://www.whistlerisawesome.com/2012/02/23/gone-postal-hotel-postal/