Island Hopping

Thailand turned into a bit of a blur of partying. Arriving at Bangkok airport with only the vaguest of ideas of what I was going to do: I bought myself a ticket down to Samui that would have me arrive sometime after 10 at night with no where to stay.

In fact, keeping in mind I had little to no plan and ignoring the fact I had a massive suitcase, several large jackets, thermal socks and a laptop; this was the most backpacker-esque 'Wanderer' trip I have done in a long time.

While waiting for my flight down to the island I met an English guy named Sean. After a few minutes of talking we found out we had more or less the same plan and decided to try to find a place that night. What started out as the exchange of a few words turned into 10 days of financially efficient craziness.

We dumped our stuff in our hotel room and headed out to the bars. In reality: Koh Samui is a little seedy in terms of the nightlife. Hundreds of sleezy Thai girls clawing at the white tourists that come into the bars. They start to get a bit inventive with their approach after a while, jumping on people like monkeys, flashing their expensive implants and... playing connect 4? you name it. Not really my scene but we managed to have some fun. It really hit home that I was in Thailand when I was constantly harassed by lady-boys on the walk home from the bars at 3 in the morning. They drive up and down the main street on their mopeds looking for unsuspecting tourists to take home and... my imagination didn't go much further than that but hey, at least they're honest: "Hey sweety, come back to my place!" "Do you have a penis?" "Well, yes, but look at these!" "Well they're very nice and props to your surgeon but no thanks."

On our second day on Samui we had dinner at the hostel's restaurant and met a couple of other young guys on a similar trail to us. One of them seemed to be your typical quiet, well educated, well off kid> about 19 years old and pretty inexperienced on the world scale... Get a few pints into him and suddenly an insane party animal appeared. It was all we could do to keep him from getting up on the tables and dancing in a pub with perhaps 20 people in it. When the live cover band offered him the mic our jaws dropped to the floor as he ripped up the stage and took the veteran performers by surprise. As the night progressed we collected a little entourage of European tourists around us and I managed to keep up the Swedish a little and even got to test my Norwegian skills: or lack thereof.

After two nights on Samui we decided it was time to move on. Along the way I heard rumors of the full moon party on Koh Pha-Nang that was coming up in just a few days. So we stocked up on supplies (mostly water to nurse our severe hangovers) and headed for the ferry. Due to lack of organisation; we were subjected to copious amounts of waiting and lugging luggage but come about 4pm we arrived at our destination.

For pretty much the same money we managed to get ourselves a gorgeous room with fantastic airconditioning, nice beds, clean, tv, great bathroom and a balcony with ocean views and an amazing hammock. It was a little out of the way but this turned out to be a good thing. The main area on Koh Pha-Nang is a penninsula with most of the action on the north-east beach. Rin Bay View was right on the south-east beach giving us peace and quiet just a 10 minute walk from the action.

After dumping our gear, taking a quick shower and getting changed we started a long wander of the streets to quickly discover a totally different feel from Samui. Koh Pha-Nang is quieter and feels generally safer and friendlier. The streets are littered with small delis, tattoo shops, all kinds of restaurants - all of which are constantly playing some kind of movie, 24/7 episodes of Friends or Family Guy, clothes boutiques and of course: bucket stalls. The beach is bursting with bucket stalls. A small ikea-style plastic bucket, filled with ice, half a bottle of Thai whiskey, a Thai Red Bull and your choice of soft drink makes for a very potent and inexpensive drink. On the down side they are quite addictive and after a few Thai Red Bulls... even at 5am sleep is far from a possibility.

Falling asleep took some time and as such; so did waking up. We ventured down to the beach in the late afternoon to get a refreshing swim and a bit of sun in before the next bucket wave. The life on the beach is amazing. Surrounded by all kinds of accents, one could spend an afternoon trying to work out where people are from. England, Australia, Sweden, Norway, Spain, Italy, Germany... I can´t think of anywhere else where that kind of diversity is so at ease and in such a small space. After buying myself a beer a little before sunset, we kept ourselves entertained by a bunch of Swedes behind us throwing each other several meters in the air while doing backflips. I felt like I had found the wanderer´s mecca.

Unfortunately, far from the pure and utopian portrayal of Thailand by Leonardo DiCaprio in The Beach we were those drunken idiots on the mainland. We were the stumbling fools that had no idea of the purity that was just across the water. And we loved it.

Out to dinner that evening we sat ourselves at a big table in front of a movie and tuckered into some Pad Thai: the cheapest and possibly best dish on the menu. As seating options in the restaurant became slim we started to let a few groups of people join as at the table and before we knew it there were 7 Swedish girls sitting around and chatting to us. After all, part of the reason I went to Thailand in the first place was to keep up my language skills.

After dinner we headed down to the beach to get onto the buckets and enjoy the fire performers. Ball and chains, staffs, fire blowing - the kind of things they were doing would completely destroy and OH&S here- flaming poles flying into crowds of people? Only in Thailand. Whistles blew and before we knew it they were putting together the balloon game. Pretty straight forward; everyone ties a balloon to one foot and tries to put everyone else´s with the other. The winner gets a free drinks. The game is set up into rounds and when the whistle blows... stay on your toes. We soon discovered this was just about a nightly event in the absence of utter craziness (ie. the Full Moon Party)

Later that night we heard about a place called Mellow Magic Mushroom Mountain: a couple of bars on the cliff at the end of the beach. So incredibly dangerous walking up and down those rocky steps... and couldn´t stop thinking... How is this place legal?! What felt like 20 minutes there turned out to be 5 hours and after speaking with some people who had spent way too much time there, we made our way down to the beach. We ran into an American guy who spun the most passionate and amazing story about the perfect beach and to quickly get on the boat with him to paradise. We quickly conferred amongst the 3 of us and decided: what the hell, why not? Once we were away it turned out he was completely full of it and just wanted some company for the trip to his bungalow on the other beach. But even though we were conned, it turned out to be a pretty fantastic beach and we got to meet Yut, Sammy and Claus. The Thai-Rastafarian who ran a little hut on the beach with music, beers and great chicken sandwiches and his two ´local´ Italian/Germans who tried in vain to get us to try every drug I had ever heard of. On the day before the Full Moon Party we got to bed about 10am.

The actual Full Moon party was a bit much actually. Easily 10,000people on one beach and a blend of music so that you couldn´t make anything out. Perhaps we had too much fun the two nights before? Randomly I ran into two of the girls I worked with in Norway. You can imagine on a insanely crowded beach in Thailand, you don´t really expect to run into people you know...

Two days later we jumped on yet another boat to check out the smaller island of Koh Tao. Unfortunately we didn´t allow ourselves enough time to dive as one does on Koh Tao: the island for us became more or less a repeat of Koh Pha-Nang. But better in many ways, quieter, cleaner: but more expensive unfortunately. Koh Tao for me? More buckets, more chill lounge-bars on the beach and better quality fire-twirling. Getting the crowd involved and twirling chains and poles at the same time? Quality stuff.

Two days later we got on the boat to Samui to begin the end of the trip. We met a couple of Finns and from there things got a little crazy. Basically we jumped on a last minute plane to Bangkok after a few cocktails on Samui and got driven all over the city in Tut Tuts and went to the most exclusive clubs with the priciest drinks and in a haze I headed back to Bangkok airport to start the journey back to Perth. This was a series of events that led to me not sleeping for two days and when I got home at 2am I seemed to still have the energy to debrief with mamma and have a slideshow.


Obviously this lack of sleep didn't really equip me too well to deal with the excess luggage charges I got stung with trying to get out of Asia. The best I could do was get a $700 charge down to about $400 by getting it shipped back to Australia. Turns out this whacked me in the end anyway as quarantine needed to look at my sneakers to make sure there weren't contaminants on them and thus incurred an inspection charge. I love excess luggage.

Saying goodbye was an emotional time. Such fun has not been had in a long time and we are beginning talks for another round of Island Hopping later this year.

Svenska Drömmar

It's good being able to communicate a bit more thoroughly and effectively again, but having said that the Swedish influence still shows itself here and there. Once in a while a Swedish word will fly out of my mouth mid-sentence but seems like people aren't noticing too much which is good. I have said och instead of and and nästan instead of nearly amongst a few others I haven't noticed. My dreams are still 100% in Swedish but after all, it's only been 3 days so I am sure the kinks will sort themselves out soon enough.

England is so dirty and chaotic compared to the beautiful, clean and organised Sweden. I have thought on a few occasions of doing a year in London but I don't know if I can take it. Sure, when I consider the Swedish migration board are on my case right now for working a whole season without a work permit London sounds a bit easier but still, how do people put up with it?

Once one gets out of London however, England can be quite beautiful. Rather than staying in the city, this time we got a big van and drove down to a little farm house near bristol. As part of our farm trip we did a little bit of a detour through Bristol, Warwick and even jumped out of the car for a quick look at Stonehenge. We were a little tight on time and considering the entrance was over six pounds, the 7 of us decided to take the cheaper viewing spot about 100 meters away. It's a bit smaller than I expected.

Sudden death hot sauce was a prominant theme of the trip; I myself was a victim of it on 3 occasions - one of which inadvertantly - this is the stuff that you take just one tiny drop on a teaspoon and you feel like your whole mouth is on fire and within a minute tears are streaming down your cheeks. It takes a while for the heat to really take hold and on the worst of my incidents I had demolished a litre of milk within seconds. Ben had ingeniously positioned a fork-full of mashed potato with a generous dose of hot sauce under the fork; serving to both hide the act while maximising sauce-to-tongue contact.

Staying on the farm there wasn't an incedible amount to do- we kicked the footy, cooked some food, listened to music and got through a few drinks - soon we starting thinking of other things to do. We suited up and stumbled off into the darkness in the hope to find the local pub. We passed groups of cattle, sheep, rivers, bridges, barbed wire and headed towards the lights. By some miracle we actually negotiated the terrain successfully and found ourselves at the local in less than 30 minutes. It was pretty close to closing time and once they'd gotten rid of the locals the two bartenders locked up and joined us for a few drinks- we were even treated to a couple of beers free of charge. I can't see that happening in the city. A few drinks put away and loading up on take aways, we started the trek back to the farmhouse while being entertained at Chris' attempts to spook the herds of sleeping cows along the way.

Back to the Mothertongue

I did the obligatory goodbyes in Stockholm with unprecedented good weather. It's funny the way living in a ski resort gives you a hightened respect for weather conditions and how unreliable weather forecasts can be. Everyday so much depends on temperature, snow conditions, wind and visability amongst other things. Pretty much my whole time in Stockholm was met with gorgeous blue skies and warm weather. I was laying out in the park with friends working on my pre-Thailand tan without much trouble at all.

Jenny came out to see me off at the airport a few hours earlier so we had a bit of time to kill. After soaking in some sun accross the street for a while we spotted a giant chess set - we were stopped by the police while walking there, apparently two people wandering around the unexplored areas of Arlanda airport is considered suspicious behavior. When we told the guy that we were walking over to check out the chess set while we waited for my flight he replied: "Chess set? What chess set? I've never seen THAT before. Very well, Carry on" Or something to that effect. Unfortunately jenny is not the father-educated chess geek that I am which actually says more about her lack of skills than the abunance of mine.

I sad my sad goodbyes and began to realise that it was goodbye Swedish and back to English for some time now. Sure there's always facebook chat and a few magazines and books I've taken with me but on the plus side it will be nice to be able to adequately express myself once again.

You Know You're a Wanderer When...

Lifts are closing down, big patches of earth are appearing on the steeper runs, bars and people are packing up their things. Time to go. Last week we all hit up the bartommnings; as the bars close down for the season they try to sell all the alcohol they have and drop the prices drastically; you can imagine a pretty messy result. A good way to wrap up the season really. Right in the middle of my course we had our ski instructor's banquet- a formal occasion with three course meals, wine, suits and the like. You know it's a special occasion when even your boss looks a little off stumbling around clutching a fresh bottle of wine.

I wanted to make sure I was well clear of the snow before I put it into words but I can now safely say that I survived my first of three seasons without serious injury. Sure there was a pretty painful and annoying incident early on involving a small bone in my hand having a rather violent encounter with Joakim's elbow and sure I had to take a bit of time off work due to a nasty pulled muscle in my back but other than that? I am injury free. Maybe I am growing up a little and seeing some sort of sign that I might actually survive a few more years of this wandering in the white stuff.


Last week was ridiculous. In one week we had as many blue bird days as we have had all season. Perfect timing for my ski instructor course. The skiing was a fair bit more difficult than I expected on a level one course but it was good for me. I now actually have a good foundation for my skiing instead of just self-taught stuff I make up as I go along. Sweet. If I wasn't on the course I would never have made it up to the very top; we paid a little extra to get towed up the peak of the mountain and ride down the back side. All three instructor groups gathered together before setting down some seriously slushy powder which was pretty cool. I now regret never going up there on my snowboard. I pictured it being a rocky death trap but it was actually big wide open spaces - a little concerning to see big cracks developing from water flow underneath the snow just waiting to be set off on a massive avalanche... But it was all worth it and I survived the day, and the course injury free. Quite unexpected given my history.

Packing up my things I came across a hefty selection of mobile SIM cards and a bunch of different currencies. Australia, Sweden, Norway, Canada, England... Why I still have a Canadian SIM card two years later beats me but when you find stuff like this littered throughout your belongings? You know you're a wanderer.

Counting Down and Getting On

7 Weeks quickly became 2 and that is all that remains of my time here in Åre. It's been pretty crazy. Living in a massive house full of youngin's who love nothing better than to party 24/7 and trash the place and trying to crack into an established group of instructors in a foreign country in another language (which I tackled with mixed success) while trying my best to fake the ability to ski: it's been fun.

Weather lately has been a prominent topic of interest. Rain, warmth, sun and very little snow. I spent the better part of the day yesterday in shorts and a t-shirt while running errands around town. I got my fair share of funny looks but it was totally justified. I went skiing a little later in a long sleeve shirt. No jacket, no gloves, no beanie- and that was totally OK too. I was very close to getting sunburnt yesterday as well. It's just that time of the season. But what season is it exactly? Massive brown patches all over the place, rivers of melting snow flowing through the park, dry roads and a lake that is very close to breaking through the ice. - This picture is in the middle of the day; that's just how thick the fog is while we're waiting for the bus. - It's sad in a way but you can see the signs of live reappearing all over- you might even say that things are springing to life; you might but I am not that cheesy.

One more week of work and then a week of an instructor's course before heading south again. Stockholm, London, Thailand and Perth on the way to Perisher for next season. I try to avoid having high expectations of the season there particularly when compared with the snow here in Sweden but hey, I'm an optimistic kind of guy.

In light of leaving Sweden, and as much as I love it here; I must say I am looking forward to shutting off my brain for a while: on the rare occaisions I have spoken English here it has been a little weird to say the least. I start using the English language with Swedish grammar and often finding myself stuck for finding the right word. Once I am out of here it should only take a few days to get back to normal... at least I hope so.

I am particularly looking forward to seeing (in order of appearance) Sandra and Jason in Stockholm, Ben, Adam and George in London, Mamma, Pappa, David and Stroose in Perth and especially my sister in Sydney. Perhaps even my niece/nephew who is due alarmingly close to the date I will be visiting them. We'll see about that. The wanderer an uncle? Wow I'm getting old.

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...