It's All Happening

Well past the half way mark now I am starting to hit that part of the season where the enthusiasm to work starts to fade. It's a bad habit to get into; how will I ever keep a long term job in the future if I run out of steam after 3 months of the world's best job?! To counter the onset of this I have requested a week off next week to get into some serious snowboarding. Right after the last of the sportlov weeks (each region in Sweden gets a week off to go skiing basically and this week is Jämtland's turn; the last one) there won't be much to do at work and not many people out on the slopes; the perfect time to get stuck into the park. A few days ago I finally managed to get up the courage to rip through the red line in the park and actually land all the jumps; but I am still a long way off doing any spins through there and as for the black park? Not this season baby.

I just got back from tearing through the darkness with 9 others on a scooter safari through the woods and across the lake. Sweet. Little bit hairy at times as the track is pretty torn up and tight through the trees but a memorable experience I will hopefully get to do again. I now stink of two stroke fumes - but zipping along in the blackness at 80km/h was well worth it.

I've had a good run thus far, three months of my own room with a make-shift double bed... But all good things come to an end and I eventually got a roommate and with him my beautiful bed was cut in half along with my storage space. Such is life. I had a good run.

At long last I managed to slowly plug away at my personal training certification and I am now fully qualified. The paper is in the mail. It took about 4 months longer than I had hoped but I did get up to a fair bit in between. Didn't I?

All my flights are booked in for the continuation of my wanderings, back to Stockholm, back to London and making my first trip to Thailand. Strange that I have been all over the world and never managed to make it there. There has to be a first time for everything right? As I wrap it up here in just under 7 weeks I will be packing up my things again and moving on.

Living in the Midst of It

I live in a place called Kläppen. It's a house about 20 minutes from the center of town owned by Skistar. It's mostly lift operators and ski instructors who live here but we've got a few caretakers, pist machine drivers and cooks around as well.

3 floors, 4 entries, 3 kitchens, 7 fridges, 4 freezers, 2 laundries, 2 saunas, 3 tv rooms and somewhere around 35 housemates it's quite the Big Brother experience. You can see what the entry way looks like in terms of finding one's shoes on the way to work; and this is immediately AFTER our weekly clean.

Last week we had the first big staff party with pretty much everyone in the whole company. That's something like 700-800 people at the most expensive hotel in town. We had a superhero/fairytale theme which produced some pretty interesting costumes. I haven't been able to track down the people with the cameras to show off my very well thought-out Clark Kent costume but I managed a few snaps myself.

It seems like only yesterday I was talking about blue skies, sun and +4 temperatures. Well you never know what's going to happen around here and at the moment I am scared to shave off my beard to see what is underneath. Last week I got some pretty nasty frostbite on my chin and I fear there may be a scar. That's how it goes when you go out snowboarding all day with lots of clothes on; you feel hot and sweaty moving around all the time but your face is getting a barrage of wind chill that means an effective temperature close to -40 degrees. Ouch.

Other than that I am injury free; slowly getting my nerves back in the park after the leg break. But I fear I have done some permanent psychological damage there, the fear is there and it's not going anywhere just yet. My luck hasn't been all good with guests; I had a kid this week who had some pretty serious ADHD even for a 5 year old and wouldn't listen to a word I said; just wanted to disappear, fail around on the lift, turn down the wrong track and so on. That's a bit of a nerve tester I can tell you; you can imagine trying to explain to a parent that their child wouldn't listen on their way to the hospital... Doesn't really cut it.

Ups and Downs

Life is full of ups and downs. Work is pretty peachy... but not always. There are times when I get stuck with 3-5 year old kids who often don't want to have anything to do with skiing. They get frustrated and upset and want to go back to mamma. I don't blame them. You pick them up on their skis and put them down somewhere else. Having said that working with kids can be the most rewarding thing in the world. At the end of the week they have learned so much, had so much fun and quite often don't want to leave. Rewarding things are seldom easy.

And then sometimes I'll end up with the absolute worst skiiers I have ever seen in my life. And both of them will coincidently come to me at the same time. These things happen. So there I am running up and down the hill trying to prevent 50 year old women from crashing into oncoming traffic. Dangerous stuff this skiing.

But I digress; as far as jobs goes, teaching skiing is about as good as it gets. There are times when I'll unexpectedly get a very gifted skier who can go just about anywhere on a beautiful day letting me lead them around the magnificent views. They can ski all the way up to the top and all the way down without thinking twice. And then I'll get days off over the single most spectacular weekend I have seen and do some exploring of my own.

Åre is unique in that way. We often experience a meteorological phenomenon known as Inversion. In normal conditions, the atmospheric layers closer to the Earth are warmer than those above as solar radiation warms the Earth which then in turn warms the atmospheric layers closest to it's surface. Inversion usually occurs when a warmer air mass moves over a cooler area thus trapping the cold air below. This usually occurs early in the morning when there is a cloud mass or fog hiding the Sun's rays. The result is a village temperature of as little as -24 degrees while it can be as warm as +4 on the top of the mountain; a bit upside down really. Herds of skiiers flock to the top of the resort, shed layers, crack open a thermos and soak up the sun while they can. It's funny to see truckloads of people perching on top of massive chunks of ice as though they are sunbathing...

This kind of weather inevitably puts people in a great mood and a full house afterski party ensues. Live music and beers flowing for the brief period between 3-5 has people dancing on tables in their ski boots and sweating up a storm in their beanies and ski jackets. The band members usually take their wireless guitars as they march around the beer hall-style tables showing off their moves in front of acres of ski bunnies. Like any job; it's a tough one but someone has to do it. This weekend I made the mistake of going in my ski instructor clothes; I suddenly realised as an ambassador for the resort I should behave myself. Next time? Try to stop me.

Thanks to my wonderfully thoughtful mother, Australia Day was not neglected here in Sweden. Taking the only other Australian within a few hundred miles we stocked up on our care package goodies and let loose on the town. Luke had a few Norwegian buddies in town which turned out to be about 140 Norwegians here on a ski trip. Most of whom had been on exchange in Australia last year. It's a little known fact that Norwegians are insane but now you know. They drink and party and dance and you wake up on someone's couch with a shot of Jager dangling in front of your nose as you scramble to get your things together before sprinting out the door to the nearest chairlift in your jeans and tshirt before stumble/running down a ski slope while holding out your thumb until you get picked up by a passing snow scooter and thanking your lucky stars that you keep toothpaste and a toothbrush at work.

Oh yeah. And you know what really grinds my gears? Turtle in Swedish is sköldpadda which means "shelled toad". It's not a toad it's a freaking turtle!

The Life of James

All is well in the cold north. Although for a while there it wasn't all that cold as we had several days of +degree-weather. While that's fine at the time; surfing around in slush is actually really fun on a snowboard but when it cools down again and without any fresh snow, you are left with acres of ice-rink that isn't much fun for anyone. Ouch.

Work is good. Life is good... of course I wouldn't be James without my share of misfortune: but thus far it has been kept to minor hand injuries, pulled back muscles, rapidly-passing fevers and awkward infections. I still manage to soldier on.

Partying is becoming less often but nonetheless still alive and kicking. What better way to spend your pre-drinks than getting drunk and seeing how many people you can fit into a two-person sauna? According to the above picture the answer seems to be eight. Not a bad effort I must say. I bet you're all loving the ratio as well. Classy.

What would a trip to Sweden be without some seriously biker-esque rock and roll? I seemed to have yet another reason to stand out not knowing who Mustache was at the start of the night but after surviving the chaos of the mosh-pit and the epic power of their beards I was soon one with the crowd.

Friday night we had a 75-year party: Swedes love to add up everyone having a birthday and 3 people celebrating their 25th.... well you can fill in the rest. I found myself playing host to an Australian kid (18) who had lessons with the ski school and got dragged out for some partying. Encouraging people to speak a bit of English was actually hard to do but it was good hear a thick Aussie accent from the Northern Beaches. Comforting in a way. Apparently the police were called out to the house but clearly I didn't notice as it was something I heard about the next day. Two of the supervisors from work showed up to give their best; always nice to cheers with the bosses.

Tuesday night is the first staff party; pulkas (bum sleds) food and drinks... Sounds like heaven as long as you're not antibiotic-ing it up? Ah to be James.

Flapping Mice

Swedish is an interesting language. The intonation remains the bane of my integration but I am making progress. I do have time however, to notice a few of the idiosyncrasies of the language along the way. The word for bat for example; fladdermus - which when translated directly means 'flapping mouse'.

Tissue? näsduk - translates as 'nose towel'. Jealous? svartsjuk - 'black sick'. Charming stuff huh? Maybe I'll get over these strange little bits and pieces one day, but for the time being I am kept amused in my own little way.

Last weekend a few of us planned to cram ourselves into a car and head to Östersund, the nearest 'town' to speak of. I parked myself behind the wheel as the car's owner: Olle, was far too hungover to drive. There was a lot of bad 90's music, searching for pizza places and most importantly- stocking up on cheap groceries and guitar strings. Thanks to a combination of a huge old Volvo with bald tyres full of stinking Swedes and an Australian driver unused to driving on ice- the first set of lights we came across in town was met with an interesting response. As I went to put on the break the car seemed to speed up as the wheels locked and started sliding. Everyone's jaw dropped and there was an eerie silence as the car continued all the way through the intersection... uphill. Luckily the cars coming the other way could see the tank coming a mile away and just sat back to enjoy the show. I was significantly earlier in my breaking after that point...

As the weeks roll on I am starting to shake off my impostor syndrome and feel more and more at home amongst the madness. After the positive reaction to a test run based on my commonwealth status, I have landed myself a pretty sweet gig organising the ski groups for a British tour operator. This means that for one class a week I will be charged with breaking up a group of students according to their abilities and essentially having my pick of which bunch I want to take for the week.

For the rest of the day I am still in the trenches with the rest of them; taking care of a variety of skiers from highly abled Swedish young adults to tantrum throwing 5 year olds. All adding to the rich texture of life as a ski instructor.I have had the weekend off and despite my plethora of aches, pains, wounds and injuries I managed to make the most of the dumps we've had over the past few days. While it looks like I'm crying here; when you have 10m/sec wind blowing in your eyes and it's -20 out... watery eyes are the least of your problems. I feel like a wintery Laurence of Arabia.

Teaching beginner-intermediates more or less limits your range of location so today was a bit of exploration for me; searching around for places to ride. I managed to find a sort of valley which was sheltered from the wind and a place where wind-blown snow collects to leave a paradise of powder snow with pleasant weather hidden away from the windy mists amidst the snow machines above. Sure the visibility was horrific. Flying down a mountain in a place you've never been when you struggle to see 10 metres in front of you is great fun. Trust me. No really.

I am still managing to keep partying in the back seat. Work is important and I want to make sure that I am comfortable in my new surroundings with a strong grasp on the task at hand... Having said that however, New Year's Day was possibly the most painful experience of my life. I think I was still drunk as I jogged along the street trying to catch the bus I missed 5 minutes earlier while skulling down my budget German multi-vitamin juice. As for what happened the night before? Do not ask me. Well I can tell you that a few of the girls put together an amazing spread which came close to rivaling the feast we indulged in a week earlier and then the party began. I hunkered down into my portion of fläskfile and potatoes and the rest is history...

Surviving Another Week

So another week has gone by in Sweden and I have no new significant injuries! What better reason to celebrate?! Oh right, Jesus. That guy.

So Christmas in Sweden is a little bit different. Christmas eve is the big day here. All the kids open their presents in the afternoon and have a massive dinner that evening. Christmas day seems like a time for everyone to get wasted and go out partying.

Christmas eve here was pretty impressive. We all chipped in some cash and a few of the girls put on a feast and a half. We sat about 20-25 people at the dining table and waited for the food to be ready while drinking our glögg (mixture of various spirits and julmust - Christmas cordial).

Emil got a weird skateboard-type thing called a Ripstick. It's only got two wheels and you move forward by wriggling from side to side. With great difficulty we took turns zipping around the living room and the dining table trying our best to do tricks like side sliding and monos. There was a fair bit of crashing but with a little bit of grace we- and the tree- survived the evening.

When called everyone leaped up to fill their plates with Swedish meatballs, potatoes, potato gratin, sausages, salmon, Christmas ham, various types of Swedish bread. Everything tasted amazing. I was mowing through the food in a hazy attempt to eat everything at once. After my second plate I was ready to collapse in a swollen food coma. Despite the crazy amount of partying going on this week I am doing my best to behave as work takes priority for the time being and a hangover coupled with a lack of sleep is the last thing I want right now. A few weeks down the track I might brave the prospect - scratch that - next week is new years eve! Time to see how the Swedes compare with the Norwegians in the new year celebrations.

As the first week in the ski school draws to a close I am able to breathe a sigh of relief. I was pretty nervous on Monday morning as I was charged with organising 26 skiers and 4 instructors- three of them with many years more experience than I. I then had a group of 7-8 year old Swedish intermediate skiers and finished up with 3 intermediate Swedish Adults. Strangely enough everything went far more smoothly than I could have hoped for.

Mental Note: Take it Easy, Nutjob

A very long but very cheap trip to the doctor's shows that my hand is not in fact broken, not even fractured. It just hurts like hell and should sort itself out without a cast or anything in a couple of weeks. How lucky is that?

Not as lucky as some things... Today we were changing over a few more advertisements around the resort. One of the big ones half way up the mountain meant that we had to get on the lift with our gear (ladders etc) and walk down to the poster. Once we'd finished we took our ladders and the old sign and headed back down to the base. It's quite a hike back down so we jumped on the old sign and slid down the mountain on our butts. It was a bit chaotic and out of control but it went well at first until I went over a crest to be met by a pretty crazy-steep, ungroomed ski-run covered in giant icebergs. Yay. It's a miracle I'm not dead. There I was; careering out of control on a huge sheet of plastic, skimming through a minefield of rock-solid chunks of ice. I managed to avoid most of the bigger ones but didn't manage to spare my butt and back the impact of a few of the smaller ones. (the boxs of screws I had in my pocket is going to leave a pretty serious bruise on my thigh). I somehow managed to spin myself around so that I was flying head first on my back through this gauntlet of pain shortly before I started heading towards one about the size of a horse. Jocke watched in horror as the scene became more and more ridiculous. By some manner of divine luck I managed to twist myself so that my shoulder slid up the iceblock and I finally managed to come to a stop. Shaken, stirred and bruised... but nothing more... I got up and walked away.

I spent the next few hours thanking my lucky stars and acknowleding yet another warning shot accross the bow to take it easy this season.

Timbuktu

My first day of work went pretty well. Going around setting up advertisements around the resort and changing over signs in ski racks etc. Not the most glamorous job in the world but it was pretty cruisey and a good way to meet everyone. After work the ski school has an afterski set up at the Holiday club which was pretty sweet and it was there that the first of the English Fridays took off. It was such a relief to be able to be myself once again instead of the constantly looking and thinking introvert I am in Swedish social situations as my brain computes what the hell is going on around me. It was funny to see the fear in some peoples' eyes when I greeting people in English over breakfast - now they know how I feel! It served to separate people into those who are brave and want to practice and those who are embarrassed and suddenly go silent.

We all headed back to Klappen for a sauna (about my 5th in a week) and some beers before we headed out to the Timbuktu concert.

A bunch of people from one of the other staff housing places came over and brought with them a random guy from Sydney who had just arrived looking for work. He made me feel a hell of a lot more sane: he speaks no Swedish and has no job lined up - he is also the only other non-swede I have met in Are.

It was a pretty crazy night all in all. A ski season wouldn't be complete without me hurting myself in a stupid way so I thought I would break one of the bones in my hand by slapping Jocke on the ass with a glove right as he put his elbow back. I also lost my phone and almost got arrested as I got into a fight with some drunken dude who insisted that his father built a couple of plant things on the side of the road. Thankfully Jocke pulled me away before the police ran over to see what the commotion was all about. At least with a broken hand I can still ski!

Funnily enough, despite all the misfortune that I encountered it was a good night and thoroughly helped to make me feel at home with the people around me.

Big Catch Up

Two weeks in Perth went very well. The boat trip was magnificent, I got to catch up with just about everyone and enjoyed the fantastic weather I was blessed with for my time there. There were a few people absent including my mother so it wasn't quite the same as my usual drop-ins. I wrapped it all up with the new bond film with Kenny from which we went directly to the airport. Kenny quite logically pointed out that having several small plastic bags packed with protein powder probably wouldn't wouldn't look so good as I fly through Singapore so they stayed in Perth and I went on.

Two weeks in London took their toll. It's a bit of a tradition when Ben and I see one another to go a bit overboard and this was no exception. The first weekend I caught up with Ben, Adam, Vic, Ranga, Muel, Shirley and a few others. While we didn't make it to the Church we still did plenty of damage at the Walkabout on Sunday to wrap up the 4 day weekend. I managed to be a little responsible during the week and Ranga and I made it to the gym a few times, got through a bit of homework and was generally a well behaved and rational person. Unfortunately the same can't be said for the following weekend. Saturday night I caught up with George from back at camp in the states as well as Alex and Simon from Montreal. A mixture of house parties, bars and clubs; George, Ben and I ended up crashing on couches in some girl's living room.

6 of us woke up and headed out to breakfast and thought; hey, why not start the day with a pitcher of margaritas? Why not indeed. Over breakfast we talked up the 'experience' of the Church for George, a native Brit who had never experienced the equisite spectacle that is the Church. Apparently it far exceeded his expectations and he can't wait to return. From chatting up girls dressed up as boys to motorboating painfully old women with excessive breast implants (George!). From being fought over by the super twins to having an unwanted sidekick step in. It was one hell of a Sunday. We've all vowed to do it all over again once the season is over.

Naturally after a bender like that I contracted a bit of a cold which I am still trying to shake off.

I flew into Stockholm and caught up with everyone from the good old days at the Hard Rock Cafe. What started out as stopping by for a quick meal and a quick hello turned into a shower of shots at Pub Anchor. That pretty much put me out of commission for the rest of my time in Stockholm but that was a-ok with me. I still had to finish off my Vardskapet (village/company study package), sort out a phone, bank account etc before getting up to the snow.

Before jumping on my mightnight train up to Are I met a crazy old drunken Finnish dude in a hawaiian shirt at the train station who insisted on having a lengthy but limited conversation with me. I figured I could use the practice but I'm not sure whose Swedish was worse? His or mine? 8 hours later the train came to a screeching halt as they pulled back to drag the corpse of an alg (like a small moose?) off the tracks. I have been to Are a couple of times but never seen it so covered in snow!

I'm living in a massive house a little out of town. At the moment we're only about 20 but at capacity it holds about 45 people. Not everyone has arrived and it won't be full until early February. So far I have a room to myself but there is a second bed that's bound to be filled before too long. My first night here was spent meeting everyone, having a giant sauna (it holds about 15 people) while drinking beer. It was all a big blurr for a variety of reasons but I gather much fun was had by all. While I am frequently told how good my Swedish is I am constantly reminded how much I have to learn! I can get by well enough one on one but in a group situation I have no choice but to sink into the background as I struggle to follow the rapidly changing conversation topic.

It is because of this that I have decided to test out English Fridays to give myself a bit of a chance to be myself. All my housemates seem to like the idea as it will give them a chance to practice their English.

Timbuktu is one of Sweden's biggest hip hop artists and I have been listening to him for a few years now; not only in an effort to maintain my Swedish but also because his music is pretty sweet. He is playing at one of Are's most popular clubs this Friday and all the staff are buzzing in anticipation. I have not spoken to one person who isn't planning on going. I hear there are 250-350 staff here so far with more set to come in the next few weeks. Should be a good night out...

So far work has been pretty cruisy; a lot of meeting, talking, looking, getting fitted out for uniforms and snowboarding around the area. The resort is divided up into 5 or 6 different locations; with 3 different ski school locations. I am based in the town center which has a pretty mixed demographic. Sounds like for the first part of the season I will be taking ski groups as more and more snowboarders come along later in the season. This week was our introduction week while tomorrow I start my first day of 'work' where I will be helping set up signs and getting the ski area ready for guests. The majority of people won't be starting until the 22nd of December when the season really kicks off. There is enough snow to have the resort running at full capacity but as there is hardly anyone around they aren't opening the lifts up as much as they could. This is a good sign for a good season - although having said that many resorts that experience early falls seem to 'use up' their snow early and not get much more later on.

Mental Note: Yoghurt and Choc-Chip Cookies Taste Like Ice Cream

So I haven't quite finished my certification; but I came damn close. I knocked off both my exams on Tuesday while my examiner was passed out on the desk... hungover. Now just one and a half assignments stand between me and completion. With a bit of luck should be able to get it all sorted while I'm in Perth.

I set aside about 4 hours to pack everything up today when in reality I got everything done in about 45 minutes and had a nap for a couple of hours. Starting to get a hang of this packing thing... First thing in the morning I fly out to Perth before starting my travels once again. I could use a bit of sun and the beach awaits.

I've set up a day trip over to Rottnest to catch up with the few remaining while I am back in town. A friend of a friend has a tidy little 60ft. Sunseeker for the day and while the weather was looking a bit questionable earlier in the week, in true Perth style it's shaping to be fine and 24. Just how we like it. A perfect opportunity to get some colour before I return to the darkness of the north.

Having said that I got plenty of sun on Saturday at the AAMI Derby Day at Flemmington Raceway, a little too much in fact. I got a taste of spring racing and I must say I'm a big fan. There are few times where people really put in the effort and really go all out to look their best, even if it is for just one day. I was surrounded by a Perth army and a few people from work. It was only a taste of the races and in years to come I'd like to have another crack.

In world news; It's official, Barack Obama is now the 44th President of the United States. We should all expect the world to be a very different place in the next few years but I must say my curiosity lies in what will happen to the world's economy. When you stay in one place you don't feel the effect of economic crises so quickly. It takes time to set in; prices slowly creep up as the costs of transport, production and storage inflate. When you move around, it hits you like a tidal wave of poverty (yes I am being that dramatic).

Take the example of the Australian dollar compared to the currency of my next destination; the British Pound. Back in June, the British Pound bought 2.03 Australian Dollars; so let's say I'd saved about $10,000 I'd be able to buy 4,900 pounds. Not too bad eh? Fast forward to October 10 - not even 4 months later - that same amount will buy me 3,840 pounds. Think about it like this: even making use of the poor conversion rates of late, that means that a little under AUD$3,000 has vanished into thin air. Poof. Gone.

There is a lot you can do with $3,000 I assure you.

Thankfully things have improved a little in the past few weeks; the Australian dollar is back up to almost 88% of its June value compared to the 77% it was a little over two weeks ago. Using that $10,000 example; that's effectively an extra $500 back in my pocket - but I'm thinking it's going to be a while before things get back to a positive place. I'm even having to rethink the Singapore stop-over shopping I had planned: for a while there the Australian dollar was faring worse than the Singapore currency. Ouch.

I am going to do my best to be frugal in my first months of travel and hold out to spend the Swedish Kronor I am soon to earn while my Australian nest egg sits incubating at the whims of the world economy.

I finished up in Sales with my best month to date; securing myself a tidy little bonus to add to my worthless savings. Saying goodbye to everyone is a good chance to take stock of your time in a place. Everyone at the gym chucked in for... cash (they thought it'd be more practical than booze for a traveler - shows what they know!) and a card that was, for lack of a better word: touching. Made me rethink all the crappy messages I have left in people's going away cards. At least I'll know for next time. There are some good people at that place; I was sorry to see the backside of the gym even if the place is falling a part in one way or another.

Suddenly realising time was running out to make that visit she'd often spoken of; my sister cut it close and came down with Lee on Sunday night to take a look around Melbourne and get in a few meals out and a movie. Amy had talked it up a bit because Brad Pitt plays an over-the-top Personal Trainer named Chad who rides his bike everywhere. For the next two days my name was Chad. At least I don't have the bad blonde streak through my hair although I was considering highlights... I suppose it was an OK movie, but the Cohen Brother's grim view of the US doesn't really do it for me. Burn After Reading portrays America as an adulterous army of bumbling idiots out to screw each other over or just screw each other. I'd at least like to think this wasn't the case.

Packing up my things has included doing my best to get through the rest of my groceries in a day. As I have a tendency to buy in bulk I have a fair bit to get through and it's essentially an impossible task. In doing so however, I have discovered that When you crumble choc-chip cookies into your bowl of yogurt, muesli and milk there is a distinct ice-cream flavor in there. It's quite odd but pretty tasty but then again - and breakfast ceral is no exception - when aren't cookies appropriate?