The hills are alive

With Winter upon us, we decided to take a ski trip. We have been talking about it since the last time we went skiing when the kids where 4. That did not go so well. We found a good deal to Austria, and off we went.

Of course the first step was to rent gear. We had nothing (we even had to buy gloves). It does not snow in Ireland. We were very nervous about this process. The last time we tried to ski, Shaynie would not do it. She could not get over the tight ski boots and restrictive clothing (picky even as a 4 year old). Thus, we were overjoyed when she tried the boots on without too much complaint!

I think it helped that we told her she was named after a snowboarder. She has since created this idea that she was born to ski. In fact she wanted to rent a snowboard instead, but we told her that she had to take baby steps, ski fist - board later (actually we were worried that a day spent falling on her face would not end well).

The glacial valleys are so steep that to get to the slopes you have to take a gondola up to the top of the mountain. We booked the kids in a ski school just to be safe. That idea saved our life. 

We tried to teach the kids for a while before their lesson started, and it was a complete disaster. We could not get them to go stand up or ride the 'moving carpet' without falling.  It was an ugly scene, and I felt a bit guilty leaving them with the kind Bulgarian ski instructor. 

But low and behold, when we came back in a couple of hours they were actually skiing. On their own! I made them take off the googles just to make sure it was the same kids. 

Even more important, they were in good moods and felt successful.  They even wanted to come back the next day and ski some more. We decided to get them lessons again!

In order to make the ski trip worth while, we had to take the kids out of school for one day. To comfort our guilty conscience, we deiced to at least make it educational. The kids are studying dairy farming in social studies (they just finished a section on the Greeks and Romans?  Not sure how one follows the other?)

So I made sure the place we stayed had access to some cows. In fact, we stayed with a family that had their own small farm. We asked the kids to make a video documentary for school. They were good sports, and came up with a number of questions and comments. Unfortunately the Dad did not speak english.

But they had a great time, hopefully learned a few things, and even got to try some fresh warm cow milk (they were very nervous, and you can see Shayne washing her milk down with a nice big drink of water).

I can testify that the experience stayed with us for days. In fact I have yet to get the smell of cow manure out of my shoes and shoe laces.  I will have to throw them away. 

We even went to the local dairy to see how they turned the raw milk into so many different products. 

And Weston decided to try some of the actual raw ingredients for milk. 

The house we stayed in was quaint, and perched on the edge of the steep valley walls.

When we first arrived there was no snow on the ground, and it was actually warmer then it had been in Ireland. It was great - and the skiing was comfortable.  Just how my kids like it.  They seem to hate wearing clothes.

The mountain air and local dairy products seemed to do our kids good. They quickly began to look like locals.

On the last day it finally started snowing. While the powder was nice, we were not prepared. Our glasses fogged up or froze, fresh snow found its way inside gloves and pants, and there was some trepidation on how to handle the new environment by one of the kids (who shall remain nameless). So we cut our losses, and tried to end the trip with good memories. We traveled back down to the valley floor, returned our gear and made our way to the airport in Germany.

As we drove the kids talked about how much fun it was, and that they wanted to go again. I suppose that is the sign of a successful trip. Next time we make sure to take a miss on the cow poop.