Just past Squamish, we drove into the snow. The Mother-in-Law squealed with delight and started a grin that would last 4 days. Here was the White Christmas she’d been waiting for.

It had taken a week of hard googling to find an affordable place, so I was surprised when we pulled up at our neat, centrally-located apartments. I suppose in Whistler, nothing’s that far away. We set to erecting our tiny ‘travel-tree’ and piling up the Christmas gifts while the in-laws popped the [first] bottle of Bailey’s.

Three hours and a bit of wine later we realised we’d forgotten to designate a driver, and our plan to go ice-skating probably wasn’t going to come off. Undeterred, we opted for the Keg’s best steak, then hit midnight mass with the most trendily-dressed crowd you’ll ever see in church.

By now thoroughly festive, we took our nightcap in the outdoor hot tub and hit the hay while visions of sugarplums danced in our heads.

Christmas morning, I was pretty grumpy about the fact that the in-laws don’t allow present-opening until after lunch. What’s that all about?! In my family, we rarely get around to lunch until the Queen’s Speech is on. How would we last?!

We gave them their gift anyway, because it was booked for 10am: a horse-drawn sleigh ride around the lake. It was a lovely, magical way to spend an hour, tucked up in blankets in the fresh air with only the occasional dog-walker to wish ‘Merry Christmas’. We finished our ride with hot chocolate by the fire, feeling as Christmassy as it’s possible to feel.

I broadcast the Queen’s Speech from my laptop and made my phone calls home while the Boyfriend cooked dinner. As the turkey slowly roasted, we bust out the presents anyway, and it was officially Christmas!

On Boxing Day, it was about time to stop drinking and start snowboarding. The Boyfriend and I got the only deal going (Edge cards) and headed up in the Whistler gondola. The ride went on and on for what felt like half an hour as I fretted it would take me till dark to get down again. The view from the summit was truly spectacular as the sun came out, and the snow was powdery and fresh.

Whistler and Blackcomb are intimidating mountains for the novice, but well worth swallowing the panic and having a go. Amazingly, the lifts were half empty, and the slopes were roomy.

Later, as we lined up for tubing with the in-laws on Blackcomb and they marveled at the view, we could safely assure them they’d seen nothing yet.