Christmas, New Year and Conclusion

The 08/09 holiday account Part 3

Christmas is one of three annual events that get a countdown, with our girls. This one was just as eagerly anticipated as you can imagine, even though there are no cousins, or other playmates about.

Given the payload of presents we took with us, it was a wonder the kids didn’t spot the contraband in the car, or the hiding places in our various accommodations. As it happened, more luggage space was devoted to pressies than clothes.

It was agreed that Christmas day was going to be spent at home, unwrapping, playing and NOT skiing. The kids love skiing, but they love presents more. Count-down days are also the days that start the earliest – I don’t know how it happens, but if there’s an AM on the clock and one of the kids wakes up, the rest of us don’t get a minute more sleep, especially when “Santa’s been here… Santa’s been here…” rings out at 100Db.

Their bedroom was well stocked with gifts, which Mr and Mrs Claus wrapped in the room down the hall until midnight o’clock and half past 2… one thing you can’t do is transport gifts wrapped, the risk of discovery is too high and they’ll look like nothing on earth by the time they’ve been shuffled between suitcases for a week.

Amber is the present police… Sarah gets to unwrap her presents, then Amber takes them away, examines them, if she likes it more than her version, or better than something she has, then “We can share this toy etc” if not, then its Sarah’s. Amber is always done unwrapping all her stuff by the time Saz is half way through, then she wants to “help” with the remainder of the unwrapping!

Two girls with their silk dresses, Amber likes them, just wishes that hers was that pink…

 

Santa also left some smaller gifts in the kitchen – lucky packet style

Make-up! We are happy.

Application of make-up, now we are REALLY happy

Of course, we couldn’t spend the entire day indoors, so, after adequate playing time had been allowed, and all the signs of cooped-up kids began showing up, we headed outside for some sport. Didn’t have to go far either, the empty field next door was a fertile spot for fun. Not particularly elegant though – we couldn’t fit the sleighs etc into the car, so sliding down slopes was done on bums or shopping bags.

If you were Amber or Sarah, then you got to ride a parent down the hill – way more comfy than any sleigh.

The soft snow needed to be compacted before anything like a decent surface for sliding appears - good thing the kids have heavy parents - I am speaking for myself of course!

Across the valley from our regular ski haunt in the Stubai Glacier, there is a decent set of slopes for skiers and... tobogganers... the hotel we stayed at had a whole pile of really nice sleighs free to borrow - we thought we'd need to buy or rent, but got hold of some beauties courtesy of the establishment and set off for some serious runs. The toboggan trails were popular with dozens of families and other enthusiasts queuing to get into the gondolas. Poor skiers were a bit overwhelmed I think.

Anyway, once at the top, we emerged from the lift station to survey the prospects for the first time. It looked great... if you had ski's on. We'd taken the executive decision not to allow the kids on their own vehicles, because, if they get out of control, then there's nothing to stop them plummeting off the edge of the trail, and these trails are steep, well wooded and busy.

No matter, off we go! Those thin sleighs are fast, and the feeling of speed is amplified by being so close to the ground. The obvious culmination of all of this, is the continuous string of control commands coming from the girls (sitting in front of each of us on the sleighs). They'd have their heels dug in too, unevenly mostly causing a steering nightmare for the pilots. Not to mention the high-pressure snow shower you get when there are brakes (dug-in heels) being applied ahead of you, throwing up an absolute blizzard of snow for you to speed through.

The first run went by with a mixture of elation and screams of fear and loathing. Hayley and I had a crash-course in cross-country sleigh management, steering and braking are not so difficult as they are imprecise and lacking a sense of response. A sleigh, moving at speed does not slow down anywhere close to fast enough, and steers in what can only be described as a leisurely and somewhat general trend. Once I learned how to broadside the thing, then I could at least manage the hair-pin turns of which there were many. Because there were so many people out on the trails, there were these long patches of ice where the snow is almost completely absent unless it is compacted into the ground. Now, if braking and steering on snow can be described as ineffective, you should try braking on ice. Let’s just say, it can get a little more exciting than you want it to, and way more excitement than your child signed up for, man, they let you know about it!

When the trails are not treacherous turning or braking, when you’re not dodging traffic, then you’re having great fun, until you hit the potholes… I’m making it sound like hell on a sleigh, but it wasn’t really… when you do a pothole in the car, or on skis, you generally know that you’ve been over a depression, sometimes the bump is a bit of a jolt, but you always have some kind of suspension beneath you, springs, legs etc, coping with the diverse forces at work. Things are different on a sleigh. You have a direct, and very solid connection to the ground, the most giving parts of which are the solid shafts of the wooden frame. Of course, then there is your bum, which you’d think would be able to absorb at least some of the shock, which, to be fair, it does, it just does it very poorly. After all the calculations have been done, gravity, inertia and speed have all placed their bets, what remains is a single and pronounced excess of energy that needs to be dispelled into the universe. The sleigh, following all the laws of physics to which it is bound, releases the energy directly upward, the overall experience of which is not unlike falling though the canvas of a deck chair onto a hard floor, or a hard kick up the bum. It’s funny when it’s not happening to you – we’d be zooming down a straight watching the people ahead of us popping up off their sleigh like popcorn trying to jump out of a pot, legs flying about, shrieks, and sometimes derailment.

The second run was a bit more eventful. Amber, having disembarked from the lift station, dragged her sleigh out onto the top of the slope, pulled it forward and dropped the reigns. I watched it. It wasn’t moving fast at all, very close to a dead stop actually, but… just not slow enough. It began gaining speed and heading directly down the skiers slope. I was busy taking a video at the time, and, seeing the sleigh making a run for it, I gave chase… in hiking boots on the snow… remarkably I did get to the sleigh, sliding in to grab it before I became a statistical irrelevance to the gravity that was about to take over the entire situation. I grabbed at it, but couldn’t get a grip and off it went, following the most direct line down-hill that was available. Soon, it was going so fast I could barely believe it. I could see it for a while as it streaked for the bottom, then it was gone, beyond the curve of the mountain. It must have hit some uneven ground, or else it was required to change direction too quickly, but the next thing I saw was the sleigh catapulting high into the air, spinning and rolling like an overkill Hollywood car crash.

I had called down the slope to warn any skiers that there was a huge wood and steel missile coming, but anyone more than 50m away would have heard nothing, and the sleigh was going so fast, that, they probably would have felt nothing too, if they’d taken a direct hit. It was a chilling time.

When I tried to stand up, I found the slope was too steep, any any attempt to get up had me skidding before my hands were off the ground, so down I went on my bum, at least I had some braking ability. I couldn’t see the sleigh anywhere, and thank heavens, I couldn’t see any dead bodies either. After about a Km of hill, I was able to get up and walk, could see no sign of the sleigh. The base of the slope, and its sides were lined with scrub and woods, a few places had fences that might have snagged the thing, but it wasn’t anywhere to be found. I gave up looking and began my way back toward the trail to see if I would meet up the the wife and girls. On my way, I saw someone approaching me on foot. It’s a rare enough thing, on a ski slope, and lo… she had the sleigh! Turned out, it had either hit, or had narrowly passed a small hut on one of the training slopes way down the hill. No one had been hurt.

Eventually the girls rounded the bend and came into sight – Hayley was driving so, it was about as exciting as driving Miss Daisy, but, given that we’d just endangered the lives of strangers, and that there were three people on a single sleigh, propriety was probably well in order.

New years came about a bit subdued. There was a great amount excitement in the camp, the hotel pulled out all the stops with dinner, decoration etc, and were right into the spirit of the occasion.

How lucky can one man get?

Saz looking resplendent in her new dress

Amber with the indomitable cow

Roll on the festivities, Europeans love fireworks, they are freely available, and everybody buys them, tons of them. Add to this, the stuff that is bought by establishments for their shows, and new-years is like Guy-Fawkes for as far as the eye can see for hours.

Outside, our hotel had also put on a show, horrible music – mostly German folk-style covers of 80’s numbers, but with well enough local content to make it less than meaningless to me. Fortunately, the locals, or at least those sharing the requisite cultural sensitivities to appreciate the fare were having an absolute ball. Some very… very interesting moves on the dance floor (a cleared space in the restaurant – quite adequate mind you), I’ll leave this one at that, lets just say that there were some innovations on display that… well, lets just leave it at that…

The glühwein flowed freely – that stuff could thaw anything – and there was loads of merriment, we watched the displays for a while, and when it had died down to the hectic partying that was going to be the tempo until 3 or 4 in the morning, we went off to bed.

Stubai is a quaint little town, in a valley completely surrounded by skiing resorts. This makes it a busy place when it’s busy, the traffic is terrible – those single-lane roads just can’t cope.

This is the church in the town centre.

Of course, there was still lots of skiing to be done, new years day was good and quiet on the slopes, as you can imagine, with all those hangovers to deal with.

It’s hard to get enough of something like this. Just the scenery is infinite.

Deciding against more trail tobogganing, we found a small field nearby and took the kids out for a spin on the sleighs to wind up the holiday. No traffic, no ice, and no danger… no lifts either

Which means, you gotta pull that thing up the hill girls! But once you’re up, then the getting down is all good!

 

And, that’s where we have to leave it I’m afraid… till the next time!

Sarah’s School Concert

December has been concert month, first with Ballet concerts, then CISP’s Christmas show and now Sarah’s last day at school concert for parents.

The kids sang songs, danced and recited poetry for the parents:

Malory, Sarah and Jair thick as thieves in the back row:  Colin got frustrated at the lack of visibility and climbed up the jungle gym in the class to get some aerial footage:

Teacher Jana getting into the song, providing the cues to the class from behind the parents:

The English kids in the class singing Jingle bells (Esther, Sarah, Malory, Jair, and Dorkus):

Ballet Concert

The girls, initially excited about going back to ballet classes at the beginning of the (school) year, were very excited about their new outfits and prospects. However this excitement was just that – initial. After a few lessons, they developed a resistance to going, and from then on, it was a slog in varying degrees of severity.

Added to this, an extended absence when Sarah burned her arm, and we had a situation where, when we went back to class, they were far behind the others and out of the loop for the up-coming concert.

Apart from the first few classes, we have also been without aupair, so yours truly has been the ballet dad too. On our return, the teacher forbade any more absence as the performance was only a few weeks away, and we needed to be at every practice so that Amber and Saz would know what to do with themselves on the night.

At one of the Eufrat school weekends, Hanka and Katka heard about the concert, and when invited to attend both agreed and so… they did! Fantastic for the girls, as it turned out in the end, it was what probably saved the day for them.

The concert was to be held at a far away place on the West side of Prague in a small theatre (Divadlo Strašnice) – we had never been there before, but, it showed up well enough on a map, and there was a tram stop nearby, conveniently featuring the name of the theatre in it (Strašnice) so it all seemed plausible enough. We were to be there, as we understood the instructions, an hour before the performance for the ONLY rehearsal at the venue.

I collected the girls from school on time and, loaded with all their kit (which took 2 backpacks) we set off for the hall. Worrying about getting their hair done, which is a mission on a good day when those tight little ballet buns are required, I was nervous about mom being there on time to do the aforementioned preparations. We got off the tram confidently and set off to the theatre. Within a few minutes it dawned on me that I was not seeing the roads I should be seeing and the theatre was not anywhere in sight… Now getting frustrated, carrying two backpacks and two scooters, and trying to phone Hayley for help, my Qi was becoming contorted. We are all sent these little episodes, I am lead to believe…

Hayley, already waiting at the venue, was wondering where we had got to as I tried to describe where we were. Needless to say she had even less idea of where we were than I did, and I had none.

We stormed back up the hill to the main road and I began to seek help in my patchwork Czech. The people were helpful enough – a florist family, but they were in no hurry, slowly explaining to me where to go and when to get off etc. It’s like being desperate for the loo while some lovely old duck tells you to notice the pretty flowers on your way, enquiring about your life, where you are from, how you like Prague etc. Meanwhile, all that’s on your mind is a very particular and urgent convenience, as you dance about in front of them hoping to non-verbally convey the dire urgency of it all.

Anyway, we went back the the tram stop that we disembarked from 15 minutes earlier just as the number we required departed. The wait for the next one was to be about 10 minutes, acceptable under ordinary circumstances, but this was no ordinary circumstance.

In desperation I consulted the list of trams passing our stop for any sign that there was another that passed our destination. There was, and it was the next one, and we all got aboard. The girls don’t deal with urgency well at all. Their standard response is a combination of hysteria, which makes them ask questions at an astonishing rate, both speaking at the same time and losing their temper if I can’t listen to, and answer each of them the instant the question is asked. Secondly they get a kind of paralysis, in which they suddenly become deathly tired, develop pains in all quarters and burst into tears. The combination of these things results in only one thing – more pressure which only brings on more hysterical paralysis…

The tram made a turn that it shouldn’t have if it was going to where we needed to be, and I knew the world had ended. Consulting the onboard map I see that there is not one stop bearing the name of our theatre, but no less than 5 of them the only difference being their obscure extensions. So… we got off, waited for a tram going the other way, went back to the beginning again and waited 10 more minutes for the ONLY tram that stops where we need to be. All the while Hayley is calling to make sure we are still alive and telling me that, not only should we have been there half an hour ago, but we should have been in full kit, hair done and ready to dance!

We sprinted from the stop all the way to the theatre, burst through the doors into the reception area, to the astonishment of all the other parents who were quite serenely talking among themselves, reading etc. The rehearsal was already in full swing behind the theatre doors when the Wood whirlwind blew past trying to locate the changing rooms. Then began the fastest transformation of hysterical paralytics into ballerinas. Thank heavens for Hanka and Katka, who lifted the girls spirits the moment they saw them. Hayley, finished stabbing the last pin into the ballet buns (read babies head) as she delivered them to a very peeved teacher to participate in the last few minutes of their rehearsal.

Poor kids… they cope well given the odds staked against them.

Just before going on… how you feeling girls?

Nervous?

Well, despite the preparation being so dogged, the performance was excellent, and both Amber and Sarah did very well, ended up liking the tour on stage and vowing to get back onto it at every opportunity – I wonder where they get that from??

Amber makes her entrance…

… and then Saz

On with the show!

The concert was not just for their age-group, but included all the classes of the same teacher, so there were performances from dancers in their early 20’s all the way down to our little people – very good indeed.

 

The photography was difficult – the flash shows up all the dust in the air and so, if there’s fast movement to freeze with a flash, it’s dotted with white orbs and washes out the performers, but you get the idea… nothing a 2.8 or faster lens wouldn’t be able to solve, but that’s another story

Our 2 ballerinas – we couldn’t be more proud!

And thanks to the loyal fan-base… for everything!

CISP Christmas Concert

Amber’s school put on a Christmas do for the parents. Being a Christian school, it was a very Christmassy affair. To their credit, they put enough innovation into the event to make it quite unique, well, in my experiences of Christmas concerts anyway. The event was themed around a “Special Delivery” that was expected by the people of the time and all the bits and pieces that one would expect to find.

The show included a number of different acts, from a group of people miming imitations – everything from a pimple squeezed till it popped to ski-jumping if memory serves, others were cases of weird and contagious illnesses that make the sufferer do bizarre things, a very funny skit around the 12 Days of Christmas, and others.

In all, a decent show.

Amber was in the choir and loved every minute of it. She worked really hard on her songs and rehearsals, by the end of the event her little voice was shot. She really gave it everything. Some of the parents came up to us afterwards saying how they enjoyed her performance – when there is music playing, Amber is dancing, there’s just no way to stop it – doesn’t matter if that wherever is in a lift or in front of a few hundred people. She performed all the actions to the songs with the kind of flair you need from someone on the stage too.

The opportunity for pictures was limited severely by the design of the hall, and my proficiency with my new camera… anyway, here are a few shots of the show…

A few contagious diseases being passed along in the doctors waiting rooms…

The impressionists popping a zit…

Amber on her way to the stage – that is Liz Hartman in front of her – her Grade 1 teacher…

Yes, it is a special delivery…

Joseph talking to the delivery guy while Mary looks on…

The choir, Amber front and centre, Leslie Johnson – the school principle is the lady with her back to this (and many other) shot(s).

The angels stressing in a strategy meeting that the delivery is going to be late…

Rowdy sheep with their rowdy shepherds…

The choir delivering another tune…

Any guesses?

Amber and her friend Shamima in the wise-men’s hat after the show

Christmas Market at Starometska, Prague

We can hardly believe that Christmas is storming down on us again.  It seems like a blink since we were shivering at the Nuremburg markets last year.

We have also not had a week-end in Prague for many weeks and so decided to be the “tourist in our own home town” again.

I heard word at the office that the Starometska (Old Town) markets were really good this year so we went to visit them on the week-end.

The first sight that caught my eye was the Staročeské trdlo (Old Czech pastry).  I have just been scanning google to find a translation, but the best I could find was this explanation: 

Credit to a web source I can’t remember (sic) “I am Czech so I can tell you what TRDLO really means. It comes from old Czech where it meant a pole, especially a standing pole that could be used for various purposes like tieing up animals (goats etc) or also keepint fiber when making threads etc.etc. The saying was “do not stand here like a trdlo” (and rather do something useful. So people who used to stand and not to know what to do or how to work, there were considered foolish, maybe a little bit stupid for not to know what should be done. So this way in modern Czech this word means someone who had done something stupid, but it is not serious, it is often used to address children who just made something that has to be repaired.
So trdlo really means a pole or a stick, simply the stick on which one makes the food you had seen. The food is rarely called trdlo itself, traditionally it is called trdelnik, but a company that sells it most has patented the name trdlo for this food though it is a little bit nonsense in Czech but propably shorter, who knows why.”

So back to the trdlo stand which I am never able to pass by without becoming a customer.  Sweet bread freshly roasted and rolled in cinnamon … mmmm.

We gave the girls a limit of 5 Christmas market goodies each and so we stopped at each stall while the girls considered what to spend their 5 limit on.  Here we are at a stall that sells shell Christmas tree decorations.

And another stall of brightly decorated glass ornaments – and I could not resist the warm winter mittens.

The atmosphere is great with street performers and musicians:

Sarah posing for the camera (isn’t she stunning):

We could tell it was close to on the hour by the tourist swarm in front of the astronomical clock. It performs a jig every hour (and was an immense let down for us when we saw it the first time)

We had lunch at a street-side cafe overlooking the astronomical clock and Colin snapped his girls, playing with his new camera:

 Lunch barely over and it is already getting dark.  Notice the angel made of lights:

Yes, The Woods were here: