by Nic Earls | Feb 19, 2026 | Uncategorized
Big Slopes Energy
Day Five = promotion day.
This morning there was BIG news. Almost all the groups got moved up to the bigger slopes. Yes. The actual big ones. The ones we stared at on Day One thinking, “Absolutely not.”
Suddenly we were those skiers. The ones riding higher lifts. The ones looking mildly confident. The ones pretending we totally weren’t nervous.
The mountain looked incredible today — wide runs, longer descents, and views that made us forget how tired our legs were. For about five seconds.
The bigger slopes meant:
* More speed
* Longer runs
* Bigger turns
* Slightly louder screaming
Meanwhile, the top group had their own plot twist.
New instructor.
Which meant they had to prove themselves all over again. Imagine finally reaching expert status and then having to re-audition for the role of “Competent Skier.”
Apparently there was a lot of very serious skiing. Very sharp turns. Very intense focus. Possibly even some showing off. When a new instructor is watching, suddenly everyone remembers how to ski properly.
Rumour has it there were some impressive parallel turns and maybe even controlled speed.
By the afternoon, everyone was exhausted but proud. Moving up slopes feels official. Like we’ve levelled up in a very cold video game.
Five days ago we could barely stand up in skis.
But wait. The day wasn’t over. We now had the ice rink to conquer, because apparently balancing on skis for five days wasn’t enough.
So off we went to the rink at to strap knives to our feet and test our coordination again.
You’d think skiing would help.
It did not.
The overconfidence was immediate. There was lots of students gripping the barrier like it was a survival situation. There were elegant skaters. There were cautious shufflers.
And then there were the human pinballs.
The sound of skates scraping, people laughing, and the occasional dramatic thud filled the rink. To be fair, most wipeouts were followed by applause. Or at least loud commentary.
By the end, a few were actually gliding around like winter athletes. The rest? They specialised in controlled chaos.
Day Five summary:
* Bigger slopes conquered
* New instructor impressed (hopefully)
* Ice skating survival rate: high
* Energy levels: critically low
Tomorrow we go one last time to the mountain. Students are coming to terms with the fact that being a skier is 40% skill and 60% determination.
Today’s awards go to:
Kamikaze – Jess for taking lots of fall and spins
Poser – Lily for claiming she was doing parallel then falling
Muppet of the day – Serene for leaving her bag at the slopes
by Nic Earls | Feb 18, 2026 | Uncategorized
Day 4 – Blue Skies and Race Day
Day four of ski trip and miraculously, we are still skiing.
We woke up to actual blue skies. Not the suspicious “it might clear later” kind. Proper postcard, sunglasses-required, “this is going on the school website” blue skies.
The sun was shining so brightly that everyone suddenly thought they were professional skiers. Yesterday’s cautious snowploughers transformed overnight.
The race begins mid morning. The course was set. Gates were planted. Competitive spirits were unleashed.
The first few racers actually looked quite impressive. Then came the rest of us.
Nothing — and I mean nothing — compares to watching teachers race each other.
Suddenly it wasn’t about demonstrating technique. It was about pride.
One teacher crouched so low they looked like they were auditioning for the Winter Olympics. Another took such an aggressive line that we genuinely thought we might need to call mountain rescue
There was Unexpected speed and Questionable cornering
After the adrenaline wore off, we all returned to our natural state: exhausted.
The sun had tricked us. We were warm, yes — but also somehow more tired than every other day combined. It’s amazing how racing for approximately 38 seconds or in some cases 2 minutes can drain every ounce of life from your body.
The evening plan was watching an ice hockey match.
Nothing prepares you for ice hockey if you’ve never watched it live before. It’s like:
* Football… but faster.
* On ice.
* With more falling.
* And occasional legal fighting.
The puck moved so fast that half the time we were just applauding because everyone else was. There was shouting. There was chanting.
At one point someone asked, “Is that allowed?” The answer seemed to be: probably.
By the end, we were fully invested experts in ice hockey.
Day 4 summary:
* Sunshine: 10/10.
* Racing skills: mixed.
* Staff competitiveness: concerning.
* Ice hockey knowledge: suddenly elite.
* Energy levels: absolutely none
Tomorrow we ski again. Our legs disagree, but our egos from race day say otherwise.
Today’s awards go to:
Kamikaze – Oliver P for using other students as brakes to break his fall.
Poser – Mrs Wycherley for smashing the slalom race
Muppet of the day – Ayden falling over whilst showing off in front of another group.
by Nic Earls | Feb 17, 2026 | Uncategorized
Day 4: Confidence, Chaos & Competitive Bowling
Day 3 on the slopes has arrived… and we are officially skiers. (Or at least we look like we know what we’re doing from a distance.)
This morning, something magical happened. People who spent Day 1 sliding sideways and apologising to the snow were suddenly making actual turns. Parallel skiing is no longer a myth — it’s happening.
The beginners bravely tackled bigger slopes, armed with determination and slightly dramatic facial expressions. Meanwhile, the more advanced groups zoomed off looking like they belonged in the Winter Olympics (or at least a very low-budget version of it).
By the afternoon, confidence levels were high. Possibly too high. There were races (unofficial, obviously), impressive stops, and a few surprise snowploughs when speed suddenly felt like a bad idea.
But spirits stayed high, and everyone helped each other up, skis and dignity included.
Just when our legs thought they could finally rest… it was bowling time.
Yes, after skiing all day, we decided the logical next step was competitive sport involving heavy balls and snazzy shoes.
The bowling alley quickly turned into a championship arena. There were:
* Dramatic wind-ups
* Confident victory poses (before the ball even hit the pins)
* Balls that rolled so slowly we aged slightly waiting
Some students uncovered hidden bowling talents — strike after strike like absolute pros. Others mastered the art of the gutter ball with impressive consistency. It’s all about commitment.
The teachers joined in too, proving that:
1. They are extremely competitive.
2. They will absolutely mention their high scores tomorrow.
3. They celebrate strikes like they’ve won a gold medal.
There were cheers, chants, and at least one celebratory dance that will definitely resurface at school.
Day 4 has been the perfect mix of progress and pure chaos. We’re skiing faster, falling less (mostly), and bonding over both snowy triumphs, bowling defeats and the blocked toilet in the room of the 7 boys.
Today’s awards go to:
Kamikaze – Jack R ploughing into people
Poser – Jakob S asking to live groups and jumps on the flat
Muppet of the day – Jack C for forgetting his ski pass
– Mrs Wycherley
by Nic Earls | Feb 16, 2026 | Uncategorized
Day Three: Attack of the Shins
Let’s go!
Today kicked off with an overnight snowfall leaving 10cm of fresh snow so obviously, the only responsible way to start the day was with a full-scale snowball fight.
But this wasn’t your usual “stop that immediately!” situation. Oh no. There were no teachers yelling “put that down!” this time… mainly because they were too busy dodging incoming snow missiles.
Let’s just say the aim was strong, the snow was perfectly packable, and the score currently stands at:
Students: 1
Teachers: 0
Second day of lessons today, which means our instructors think we’re more confident, this is interesting news, as most of us are still negotiating with gravity on a regular basis.
Some tackled the bigger slopes today. Faster runs. Longer runs. More turns. More jumps. And definitely more falls.
At one point, the top group including Phoebe, Mason and May attempted a jump with great confidence and zero planning. It was majestic. For about 0.4 seconds. Then it became a snow angel demonstration.
And can we talk about shin pain? No one warned us that ski boots would slowly compress our lower legs into emotional damage. The pain in the shins is real.
Every time the instructor said, “Lean forward!” all groups collectively thought, “We physically cannot. Our shins our killing us.”
Then came the evening: pizza night.
We headed into a restaurant. After a full day on the mountain, nothing has ever tasted so good. Carbs? Essential for recovery. Cheese? Medical necessity. Fizzy drink? Emotional support. Nothing builds character more than watching a group of students who have so much confidence regretting their life choices after being persuaded to try the hot sauce.
Tomorrow, we take on the mountain —
or at the very least, tumble down it with undeniable style, and as Jakob’s mantra has reminded us all day:
“Breathe in the breeze of the mountain.”
Today’s awards go to –
Poser – Will for using his googles to do his hair
Kamikaze – Maisie for wiping her group out
Muppet of the day – Nathan for taking his time to put skis on every time he falls.
by Nic Earls | Feb 15, 2026 | Uncategorized
Today was day two of our ski trip, also known as, The Day We Discovered Ski Boots Are Not Slippers.
It was our first proper day of lessons. Everyone was up early, making packed lunches (which some of them left at the hotel), and the realisation Ski boots are not made for walking; they are made for… suffering.
Before we even reached ski school, someone (DD) had already lost their gloves. We hadn’t touched snow yet. Impressive, honestly. The gloves had a shorter holiday than we did.
At ski school, our instructor told us we’d be “flying down the mountain in no time.” What they didn’t mention is that first they’d spend 45 minutes learning how to stand up after falling over.
Putting skis on is easy. Staying upright? That’s another story.
Lots of students lost it halfway through the morning. Not emotionally (well… maybe a bit emotionally), but physically. Trying to snowplough downhill while your legs shake is harder than it looks. Who knew stopping required actual skill.
After six hours of imprisoning our toes, we were released directly into a swimming pool. Watching everyone hobble from ski mode to swim mode was the real entertainment.
Despite the falls, the glove incident, and the Great Boot Complaint of 2026; it was a brilliant day. We’re all slightly better at skiing and slightly worse at walking.
Today’s awards go to:
Kamikaze – Jorja fell into a building
Poser – Guy thinks he is better than he is
Muppet of the day – Dylan for losing gloves and spending a third of his money for new ones
– Mrs Wycherley
by Nic Earls | Feb 14, 2026 | Uncategorized
It begins, as all sensible school trips do, at an hour normally reserved for questionable online purchases. There we were, bleary-eyed. Overpacked children. One child dragging a suitcase roughly the size of themselves.
The bus unpacking crew – you know who you are.
The brave souls who lifted 55 suitcases
Without complaint. Without applause (unlike the pilot and what we know expect at the end of every lesson). Possibly without proper stretching beforehand. We see you and we appreciate you.
There is something uniquely chaotic about a school group at an airport before dawn.
The children, who allegedly “weren’t tired at all,” were: eating KFC at 4am, wearing hoodies as blankets and immediately asleep on the plane except Mason who talked to himself and anyone else awake throughout the flight.
Now we arrive at what may be the most educational part of the trip. The rooms. When I let students know…
“Before you do anything else, you need to make your beds.”
Silence.
Some students stared at the mattress as if it were an advanced maths problem.
For a brave few, this was clearly their first independent encounter with:
* A fitted sheet
* A duvet cover
* The concept of responsibility
One child reportedly attempted to place the duvet on top of the mattress protector and declare victory. Another asked if housekeeping would be coming around.
Character building, we call it.
After approximately 36 hours awake, the group bravely marched into town.
And what is the first cultural landmark teenagers seek out in Austria?
Not a cathedral.
Not a mountain.
No.
It was, of course, McDonald’s.
Because nothing says “immersing yourself in Austrian culture” quite like ordering nuggets in three different languages.
Next came ski fitting.
There is nothing that bonds a group faster than collectively discovering:
* Ski boots are not designed for comfort
* Walking in ski boots is a skill
* Everyone suddenly has “slightly wide feet”
In Conclusion
Your child is:
* Probably exhausted
* Definitely surviving
* Possibly still learning how to put a duvet cover on
– Mrs Wycherley
