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
... the eerie music was leaking from the streetlights again, making it seem as though the apocalypse had happened and the entire outside world had been obliterated.Time seemed to dissolve as I waited, folding back on itself and spinning into circles so I forgot almost whether it was the beginning or the end. Or perhaps it was that time was revealing the truth of itself to me as something wholly interminable, like a labyrinth, something that ...
... against the deadweight of winter. Squirrels scramble through the trees. Crows caw and hop around on the wet, loose ground. The mountain is beginning to look how I once imagined it would look like in spring: everything glittering, everything on the move in sudden rivers and streams. St Patrick's was officially held at our staff house last night. Variously termed 'The Boring House', 'The House of Peace' and 'The House of Splendid Cups of Tea, Biscuits ...
... 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 ...
How does it always happen this way? There seems to be so much time at the start of things, one drowns in it; oceans of seconds, storms of unwanted minutes. Time seems solid, a weight, something exhausting that must be first confronted and then carried down a long, long road. Then, without effort, design or concentration, all that wealth of time is suddenly gone, one is a pauper, in debt, scrabbling around to barter a few extra moments ahead of ...
... friend. No matter where my friend goes, she finds the pale, perfect spectre of Franziska staring back at her. Franziska is a German traveller from last year who refuses to move on to new pastures: she sprints through mirrors and hangs from ceilings and generally gives my friend a tough time. How so, you may wonder? Good question, I will enlighten you. When my friend first arrived in Canada, she immediately went to work on a farm outside of Barrie as a woofer. Now, let it be ...