There is a certain kind of frigid that envelopes every pore when you're plucked from a New Zealand summer and thrust into a Canadian winter.

The -20C temperature stabs your irises and the skin on the tip of your nose. And if you happen to be flying down a ski slope at ill-advised speeds, don't be surprised if the wind chill — which feels like -500C — sears the softest parts of your cheeks.

Unlikely as it sounds, this is a small price to pay for enjoying the splendour of mountain views, epic powder snow, and the sheer joy of