Club Intrawest - Blue Mountain
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- Free High-Speed Internet
- Swimming pool
- Fitness/Health center
- Free parking
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TripAdvisor Reviews Club Intrawest - Blue Mountain The Blue Mountains
Travel Blogs from The Blue Mountains
... about- sort of in the way that a mortally-wounded beast can still deliver a retaliatory deathblow to its hunter. The victory of spring is thus ambiguous. A spiteful blizzard brewed in Collingwood yesterday afternoon. I was in town collecting provisions for my onward travel and so there I was yet again chattering of tooth and aching of hand in the bus shelter waiting for the last transit home. Town was deserted as it was Sunday and miserable and ...
... in the blue darkness of my cramped room. It was a strange thought; how vulnerable and oblivious a human body can be when it slumbers. I don't know how, but I woke up on time for coffee and peach porridge before heading back into work for my shift. The vast Canadian sky was filled with stars and unbearably beautiful as I walked down the deserted highways. I felt sorry for all of my housemates and neighbours and friends and acquaintances who were ...
... can be to remember the beginning of something at the very point that it draws to a close. Also about how nostalgia is like a curious sort of wasting disease and how the human heart can yearn passionately in silence forever. A curtain falls over a vista you have lived within, velvet and deep and true. The memory of what lies behind it can be thick and luxurious, touchable and heavy, but it is ultimately obscure. Sometimes muffled shadows move behind this ...
... so the spring can be born, so I feel that all the people I have met and befriended here in this place might soon be ripped from me. They will leave yawning holes that will weep silver water for days, weeks to come; a sadness will reign in my heart like an unyielding splinter of winter. But it provides the fertile soil for the experiences of tomorrow. The more that a human heart ruptures, the more open it lies, the more pathways there are inside of ...
... moustache that looked fake and the heavy lumberjack shirt, told me of a girl he had met last year in that very hostel (he'd been living in the hostel a while, it seemed). Anyway, the girl was from Scotland, no less. She was a girl who had a grand plan to travel throughout Eastern Canada before heading to a ski resort and working her way through the harsh, painful Canadian winter. Hauntingly reminiscent of my own story, yes, but the overriding emotions awakened within me were ...