Day 4: Due to my rubbishness at pre-booking a hostel in Whistler I ended up having to book the only available hostel which was in a place called Pemberton which I later discovered could also be known as 'Behind da Lawd's back'.

While waiting for the coach with a guy I travelled from England with called Neil, a random Ozzie girl asked to borrow my map and we got chatting. Before we knew it we'd become friends and she suggested moving in together!!

I was discovering that doing this travelling malarky you make friends and room mates quicker than the average Londoner like me is accustomed to. But I was getting used to it and it was actually quite nice to kinda bond wid people so quickly.

Due to an internet clerical error I got off the coach too early with Feli - of Italian descent - the Ozzie girl (oi, no sugestions, it was an actual internet wrong address).

I then had to catch another coach to Pemberton which went on, and on, and on outta Whistler and deeper and deeper into the mountains until finally arriving in what was essentially the middle of nowhere.

It took me ages to find the hostel which turned out to be run by a couple of friendly, slightly quirky, large, butch lesbians. The 'hostel' was basically someone's house, with a proper kitchen, beds and bath and everything and there was just one nervous, anxious looking Ozzie guy staying there called Nathan. I'd find out why he looked nervous and anxious quite soon...