Day 6: Frigid

We are finally finding our feet in Canmore, although managed to lose them again in the 6 inch snow drift in the park this morning. I was prepared to be unprepared for the cold weather, but even the Canadian weather forecasters are describing it as extreme, or 'frigid'. Charlie, the master of understatement, describes it as, 'a bit chilly'.

The mountains were completely obscured by cloud this morning; the fir trees blanketed in powder like the icing sugar wonderland on a Christmas tree. Someone had swept our drive and porch clear of snow before we arrived: 5 days later and it's 4 inches deep and building. 3 layers are necessary to leave the house at any time, and as they are all man made fibres, delayering builds up static and we spend the next half hour shocking each other and looking like Doc Brown.

As a foreigner used to temperatures only on the positive end of the spectrum, I'm up for as many heat saving bits of kit I can get my hands on. I thought I was fairly kitted up with my buff (Charlie will only wear hers because we tell her she's a pirate), but I saw a woman today who had one for her bum.

The snow is all powder so my cheapy walking boots are fine. The pavements are cleared by the shop owners or the council with mini diggers. And everything carries on as normal. There is a new bridge being built across the creek in front of our house, and the men have worked on it every day. The creek has frozen over, the roads are solid with ice and snow and while we walked through Banff on Sunday, my breath froze in tiny crystals on my eyelashes. But this is normal, and life goes on. Because life surrounded by mountains is beautiful. If frigid.