Letters to John — From Canada — Letter Four

Strolling Through Lost Lake Park In Whistler

The lake wasn’t that lost, but I felt painfully lost…

When I went to Canada in 2016, I wrote John a letter (email) every day. In this way, we felt as if we were travelling together. This is part of my fourth letter to John, which I wrote on the third day on my way from Whistler to Lillooet.

The previous part of the letter you can find here:

After I came back from my short mountain visit, I went for a walk to the Lost Lake Park, passing the dirt-jump park, the bike-skill zone and some other tourist attractions, including the Lost Lake Passivhaus.

During the 2010 Olympics and Paralympic Winter Games, the building was the Austria Hause — home to the Austrian Olympics Committee and Austrian Public Broadcasting. After the Games, the building was transferred to the Resort Municipality of Whistler. It has a coffee shop, bike rentals, toilets and more. I didn’t go inside, as… I was too shy — what if I needed to talk to people? Too scary ;)

At the entrance to the park, I met a group of jumping and laughing adolescent Hindu girls who asked me to take a photo of them.

Watching them being so joyful and bubbly made me smile, and I wished to be twenty again… With my friend, we used to laugh so much that we could hardly walk. Actually, it wasn’t only in my twenties… It was also in my thirties — with another friend, but the same amount of laughter. And I believe I would still laugh so much even now if I had someone to share all this with.

Lost Lake Park is the largest park in Whistler. In summer, it offers nearly 100km of hiking and biking trails; in winter, 25km of cross-country skiing and over 12km of snowshoe trails. I guess, John, you haven’t done any of these activities. I also haven’t done much cross-country skiing (only endless alpine skiing), and though I walked a lot in deep snow, I have never done it in snowshoes — this has to be fun! I will put it on my bucket list; nevertheless, only if I have someone to share the experience with — as I said, I don’t like snow adventures on my own.

I kept walking on the wide gravel paths through the park, taking endless snapshots and imagining how wonderful it would be to ride a push-bike here with… you, with somebody who loves push-biking, who loves nature and who loves me.

For a brief moment, I thought about how it would be if George came here with me, and immediately I was grateful I was here alone, without him. This would be a nightmare, constant complaining and grumbling, “Do we have to do this? For how long do we need to do it?” and so on. People say it is better to have someone to travel with than travelling alone, but… No, I definitely prefer to be here on my own and dream how nice it would be to share the adventure with you. You would love it too!

I knew that the time was passing quickly and it was getting late. I should go back to the car that was parked… Ugh…Somewhere in Whistler, I had no idea where exactly it was or how to get there, but… I couldn’t stop my curiosity — “What’s there behind the corner?” or “how does the Lost Lake look like?”.

When I finally made it to the lake, I was slightly disappointed. It definitely wasn’t as hidden or tranquil as the descriptions on the information boards made me believe it was or as lost as the name could indicate.

The beach… I still have to smile when I think about this word, as though the term means probably the same in every English-speaking country, the picture we visualise when we hear it can be very different… In Australia, we see the golden sand, the warm crystal clear waters and feel the hot sun. Here it is a gravelly shore, fresh wind and crystal clear but freezing cold water.

The tarn, indeed, provided quite lovely scenery and some peacefulness; however, people were everywhere. Families were having lunch at the tables in the picnic area, kids were playing around, and couples were walking and holding hands. On the bench at the lake, there was a young couple in love, she sat on his lap, and they cuddled like two lovebirds.

And to make it all worse, everybody in the park had a dog (I think the dogs weren’t allowed at the beach, but everywhere else). So, yes, you could say that there was “love in the air” and a beautiful atmosphere; however, for someone like me, who feels the pain in her heart and who is by herself, all these made me feel even more rejected and lonely…

Now I am back in my van. Next to me, an old brown camper van is parked. I am not jealous of the vehicle at all. It is probably older than I am, and it doesn’t have all the luxury I have in my tiny home, everything accessible at a press of a button. However, I am slightly jealous of the “content” — a young couple travelling together… Oh gosh, John… I miss you so much… I would give up all the luxury and travel in an old dumpster if only I could travel with you…

I just got interrupted by a woman who came to my car. I think she was the parking security guard, politely distributing pamphlets informing all occupants in motorhomes that staying overnight is not permitted. It is not a problem for me. I will be driving away from here soon. At least she took me out of my nostalgic (or melancholic) sad mood, and now I feel better again.

However, before I go, do you know what I am doing right now (yes, I am writing to you, but except for this)? I am going through my big coins collection containing a couple of $2 pieces, plenty of 25 cents, some 10 cents and a few 5 cents.

I see a change with the denomination of 25 cents for the first time! I have never seen a coinage of this value in any other country. I also noticed that most of the coins ‘fit their size’; I mean, the higher the value, the bigger the coin, except for 10 cents, which is smaller than 5 cents.

I know, quite a boring analysis, but… Differentiating the value of money by its shape can be pretty useful. We don’t realise it in everyday life, as it is something normal; everybody knows the look and feel of their home-country coinage. However, you notice how important it is when you are at the check-out in a foreign country, and you desperately try to select the given amount by trying to find and read the printed value of each coin and watching the queue building up behind you…

Okay, I better go and see where the road takes me!

This story is from my unpublished book called “Letters to John — From Canada.” One day I hope to publish the entire “Letters to John” series, but until then, I decided to share snippets of my books on various social media and writers’ platforms.

More articles relating to this book and my adventures while driving across Canada you can find in the following collection/list

Every article starting with “Letter X” is a collection of posts that together create the given letter. So, if you want to travel with us across Canada, go through the “Letter X” — articles. I hope you will enjoy the travels as we did! Happy travels!