Settling Into Mountain Life: A Travel Story
After the amazingly fun summer at the hostel in Banff, I missed my old crew. My new housemates were kind enough to clean and set up my room and I had it all to myself — there would be no shared bunk beds in this one. I wanted that so badly before I met all the great people at the hostel, but after sleeping in the same room with a bunch of my friends, it felt odd with it just being me.
I missed everyone so much from the hostel. Loneliness is a feeling I rarely get, but that group was special. I knew it would make me too sad to be alone feeling that way, so I walked out to the common area after I settled in and chatted with my roommates.
Meeting new people and starting paid work helped fill the days; my homesickness for the volley room started to subside. As amazing as it was to share a room with people you loved being with, it wasn’t a life that could have continued forever. We all had goals and jobs to get back to. Sebastien worked at the same resort I did, so it was nice reconnecting with one of the old volleys from the hostel. I wasn’t as close with him as I was with Aline, Kata, Jacky, and Steven, but he was a nice familiar person to chill with.
The people in my new staff house were fun, but chill. I was able to balance my writing with socializing and work. At least, at first it was a decent balance. I remember two of my roommates from Quebec, Erik and Alan, were great with helping me settle into the house. I’m also not proud to admit this, but I found the housekeeping job to be triggering.
I think it’s because there was no set schedule or target and the chalets felt ominous to clean. I always felt like we’d never get out of there. Combine that with the ill-fitting scrubs we had to wear, and I was not only depressed, but I felt frumpy.
Putting it into perspective, I was never like this at my jobs in Ontario. I generally liked the places I worked at because they were chill call center/sales office jobs. Sometimes when you put yourself into a new dynamic, things get stressful and you don’t feel like yourself.
While Banff is a beautiful place and I cherish it, I was in a period of transition. These phases can get messy, but I had things I needed to work through, like becoming my own person and learning to become the captain of my own life. It was difficult to feel autonomous in a phase where I lived and worked with the same people and the job itself felt very chaotic to me at that time.
Erik and Alan were a big support to me during that time, helping to make the days a little less painful by forming a team.
“We realize women have that time of the month so you’re not always in the best mood,” said Alan kindly. “We’ll help you if you need it. We’re a team.”
I usually cleaned the chalet kitchens while they did the harder jobs like beds, bathrooms, and vacuuming up and down the stairs. It made the days pass by easier. Looking back, I can see how volatile I was when I was out of my comfort zone.
Growth is hard, but it’s necessary. There were hundreds of paths I could have taken to get to Vancouver and that is the one I was on. There would have been challenges along the way no matter where I ended up. I looked and acted like a messy person back then and I’m humbled at how nice everyone was to me despite that. There’s something special about people who travel.
The three of us often hung out in Erik’s room, which was decked out with an amazing sound system for music and movies. One night the three of us went out dancing and it was so much fun. They both had such defined dance moves, unlike my basic white girl moves. We really were a team. They didn’t invade my space, allowing me time to write or hang out in my room, but they were available to hang out whenever I wanted to socialize.
One night it was just me and Erik watching a movie and he tried to make out with me, but there was something childish about him; I didn’t feel comfortable doing that with him. He was more like a little brother to me. Unfortunately, he wasn’t interested in being just friends, so he quickly moved onto a new girl crush within days. I wasn’t allowed in his room after rejecting him. Alan and I were still good, but our trio had been broken. I wasn’t too hurt as it gave me more time to write.
Hanging out as a trio was nice while it lasted, but there were a lot of different people in the house available to hang out with so I moved on from that fairly quickly.
One night, Sebastien and I grabbed McDonald’s after dancing at the club when Erik walked in with a black eye — apparently, he’d gotten into a fight at the bar. I rested my hand on his shoulder and asked him if he was okay. He looked surprised, but then shrugged me off.
“You don’t care,” he said coldly.
I felt bad, but my intuition was right to not get involved with him.
“Isn’t it illegal to hit children?” laughed Sebastien.
“It’s illegal to hit anyone,” I corrected, feeling sad seeing Erik like that and remembering how fun it was to hang out with him in the beginning.
He ended up getting fired soon after, but I don’t recall hearing the exact reason why. He had so much stuff to move out, too. It was painful to see.
When some new people moved in, the vibe changed drastically — the new roommates wanted to party just about every night and they seemed to have no idea what personal space was. The times I spent out with them were fun, but when I wanted to get back into my writing/nature walk routine, they would keep bugging me to go out with them at night. I’m not judging — a lot of these people were really young. I understood their need to experience certain things when it was their first time away from home.
I had that experience already when I was at the hostel in the summer. I didn’t want to party every weekend anymore. While I loved dancing some Sunday nights (It’s Sunday Fun Day in Banff!), that didn’t seem to be enough for them. They seemed to make it their mission to harass me to drink or go out with them.
Guilt ate away at me every time I said ‘no’. Saying ‘no’ wasn’t easy for me — unless it was something extreme like sex or drugs. It’s harder to say “no” to an invitation to hang out or go out.
One night when I was out dancing, I bumped into someone else I’d met back at the hostel. It was nice to see a familiar face. Seeing me on the dancefloor, he slipped over and whispered in my ear to ask if I wanted to go outside. I’d been dancing for a good few hours and needed a breath of fresh air. We left together. He told me that he found a cooking job in town and I was glad to hear that he was settling in.
He was far more mature than most guys in their early 20’s. He said he was ready for a relationship and he was handsome, but I felt like something was off, like he was moving too fast before we got to know one another. He suddenly leaned in to kiss me while we were talking. That move always annoys the hell out of me. I took a deep breath and said good-night.
We continued to message each other on Facebook through the week and he seemed like he could be a good friend. He rented his own room in an apartment building rather than stay in a staff housing building.
“He’s very handsome,” said one of my girl roomies.
She saw us dancing together at the club and again when I was walking with him in town. She was right. Maybe he would be my boyfriend.
One day we went for a walk to the cave basin which was a gorgeous scenic trail. While he was nice, I didn’t feel a romantic connection with him and it was a long enough walk to show me this. It’s funny how that happens — connections are such an interesting mix of factors. You either feel something for someone or you don’t — there’s no forcing it. It didn’t erase the fact that he was a great person.
I was looking for a warmer winter coat that would help me brave the frigid Alberta winters. Knowing this, he stopped by my place once to give me his smaller coat. It was so kind of him to help me out, but he hadn’t given me any notice that he’d be dropping by. I was in the midst of befriending a new co-worker. He saw that I was with some other people and not very welcoming to his unannounced visit. He apologized, bowing out.
I don’t know why I allowed that friendship with him to slide, because it would have been helpful to have someone who was more stable than most of the people I lived with.
The guys in my house, on the other hand, often served drama right on my lap. If I was in the mood for partying and liveliness, it was great, but some nights I just wanted to relax after working and writing all day.
One of my roommates, a German girl named Tara, asked me if I wanted to go to Calgary with her for a day. I’d been to Calgary a few times and thought it was a nice city, but I didn’t really feel like going in my current state. The guy who lived upstairs was playing hot and cold with me and it was making me depressed. She encouraged me to stay away from him.
At only nineteen years old, I was amazed at how mature she was. I observed her walking around the resort confidently and taking extra tasks to work more hours while I’d take the option to go home early every time. She seemed so stable. She was there for the winter season and would return to Germany in the spring. I made a note to myself that I would become like her one day — calm, stable, and in control of my life.
In the future when I’d take on extra work or extra shifts, I would still think of how she inspired me to be like that. You never know who you might be helping just by being yourself. In my era of emotional instability, it was someone like her who helped ground me. She eventually convinced me to go to Calgary with her.
“I already booked the bus tickets. You can pay me back,” she said, giving me a stern look as if to say ‘wake up’.
A part of me did want to go so that was the boost I needed to commit to plans with her. She did me a big favour. I needed to get away from the house to spend a fun day shopping in the city. We took the bus into downtown Calgary and went on the c-train to the mall.
One of the shops had free wine since it was the brand’s anniversary, so we each took a glass for ourselves. It was nice having a bit of a buzz as we browsed through different stores. An older man sat next to us when we grabbed lunch and asked if we were sisters. I didn’t see any resemblance in our faces, though she was also blonde and tall. We just laughed.
She was very nice to spend time with and the day trip boosted my mood. I posted a photo from that day on Instagram. She ended up taking a higher paying job up on one of the mountains and I can’t blame her. A lot of people would come and go at the house. Cain, Katelyn, and I were the longest standing tenants in our unit. I still appreciate the impact Tara had on me. Working on yourself to become more stable and resilient doesn’t just help yourself, it can help others, too.
My favourite cafes to write at in Banff were Starbucks, Wildflower Café, or Second Cup. They all had such a cozy vibe with a gorgeous view out the window. I remember writing an intense fight scene at the Starbucks one evening after work. It was cold and snowy, but my soul glowed. I came inside after dark and sat on the couch, gushing to Katelyn, my girl roomie, about my writing session.
“Oh my God you’re like so giddy,” she said happily. “It’s so cute.”
It was nice they supported my writing. It wasn’t always craziness and toxicity, but it can be tough to function peacefully in a house filled with people who have different values and lifestyles. I admitted to Katelyn and Cain one time that I was divorced. They listened to me without judgement and I really appreciated that.
“I can’t picture you married,” said Katelyn with a laugh. “You’re so independent.”
“I mean, he did help out with the chores, so it wasn’t all on me,” I said. “He just didn’t support me in the ways that really mattered. He was always out for himself. It was all about him. He didn’t even like cuddling.”
I didn’t like talking about the divorce. To me, it was in a past life. I moved on and was becoming my own person. I did see myself getting married again one day in the future, long after I moved to Vancouver. It had to be a great romance the next time, because I didn’t want to go into something that would probably end like the last one.