How about that? I'm already ahead of schedule; with the assistance Ms.Sundae I acquired the ski stuff. Plastic trousers and a jacket. All dark, principally to conceal the blood and to show up against the snow when I'm lying spead-eagled on the slope shouting "MEDIC!"
"Its very slimming" commented the woman charged with stopping undesirables from fornicating in the changing rooms. I looked at her: "The only way anything would look slimming on me is if I was looking in a fairground mirror..."
I was also distressed to discover an attempted recreation of an English pub at the airport, complete with red phone box. I suspect that the star of the English nation may have fallen somewhat in the eyes of Sundae when I explained that the traditional red telephone box was now a rare sight due to people using them as toilets...
Mission today: work out transportation to Whistler. Find breakfast. Buy watch. Show Vancouver to Bondage Bear. Send postcard to First-Born.
