Don't try this at home

Ben, who teaches math and science to my class, took his lesson outdoors today - it was a balmy -1 degrees outside - and aside from the temperature I was impressed by two things in particular. Firstly, his audience swelled dramatically as a result, which says something about the ratio of students who are actually in the school building when they are meant to be compared with those whose aren't, and secondly...well, there can't be many science lessons that take place with a backdrop like this one!

Oh, and in case you were wondering, in light of the fact that we don't have a cloud of volcanic ash lingering over our part of the world at the moment, Ben was trying to create our own alternative version by dropping increasingly large chunks of sodium into a bowl of water. The end result was pretty impressive and one was left with the thought: just how many outdoor science lessons take place in Iceland?

It ain't half hot mum

It's been uncommonly warm here this week - I'm not sure exactly, but I think it must have only been something like -4 or -5 today - and whilst that may sound cold, in relative terms it feels decidedly tropical. Today was truly gorgeous, and even though I've been here for some eight months now I'm still struck by the town's beauty, especially on days like today.

However, such mild weather does have a downside. During the winter months there are few, if any, problems with insects and bugs - Little Miss Muffet could have eaten her curds and whey without fear of interruption had she come to work in the North - but when winter starts to give way to spring the flies return with a vengeance, and it's then that you wish that there actually were a few spiders in town.

When I left to go on my walk today I was confronted by a business of flies - did you know that 'business' is the accepted collective noun for flies? - on the inside of my outside door (if that makes sense), and when I returned later in the afternoon I had to swat two intruders that had had the temerity to take up residence in my kitchen. Not as bad as my experience of a couple of years ago though; when I came back North after the summer holidays I entered my house and found the blinds on the dining room window literally covered with flies. We're talking dozens and dozens and dozens. Traditional swatting was never going to work, so I plugged in the vacuum cleaner and simply sucked away the problem. Genius!

Emptying the bag was interesting though.

Not a happy camper

Well, in the manner of Bear Gryllls or Ray Mears I have emerged from the wilderness unscathed, save for my usual collection of bites which, whilst not as large as last year's, is still sizeable. One bite has swelled to such an extent that it looks as though I have a tumour growing behind my right ear, a fact of which I was not aware until I had spent a good couple of hours socialising at the school's barbecue which took place after we returned from camp. The looks of sympathy mixed with terror that I was getting now make sense.

The trip itself ran smoothly, but despite the fact that we were graced with good weather, I can't say that I really enjoyed myself. I am simply not a happy camper. I view camping in the same way as the albino in The DaVinci code viewed self-flagellation; it is a necessary act of penance that needs to be observed every so often in order that one's sins may be absolved. It is my hope that one uncomfortable night under canvas helps remind me of the relative luxuries I have at home and, as a consequence, makes me appreciate them just that little bit more.

I know I lead a relatively adventurous lifestyle when I'm in the North, but that is all done in the knowledge that there is a reasonably comfortable, heated apartment to come back to at the end of the day. I have helped to build an igloo but I would view spending the night in one on a voluntary basis much in the same way that I view camping. I think houses are a good invention, and one that we should all embrace.

Having said all this though, the students on the trip all seemed to enjoy themselves, and that is the most important thing. If I am around and about this time next year I will undoubtedly offer my services once again, if only to absolve the sins that have have been committed over the previous twelve months.

I'd just better be a good boy this year.

It's cold outside...

Although the town has been covered by a blanket of snow for some time now, today was just about the first time that it felt really cold, the type of cold that literally does get into your bones and starts to freeze the end of your nose. As I write, it's a decidedly frosty -17°C outside, -25°C with windchill, which is quite cold enough thank you, but I've been here long enough now to know that it's going to get a lot colder than that in the months ahead.

However, it was also beautifully sunny today, and the view out onto the Bay really was rather stunning. Now, I vowed to myself when I started this blog that it wouldn't turn into yet another amateur travelogue, full of endless photos of the landscape which, after a while, all merge into one however beautiful they are. But today I feel the need to indulge myself and share with you a few photos that I took either at, or on the way to, school (click to enlarge):

The view from my classroom

Hudson Bay, as seen from the school

Smoke on the water...(go on, you know you want to!)

The last photo - not the best quality as it was literally taken through my classroom window - shows the phenomenon of sea smoke, or steam devils, caused when warmer air covers colder waters and winds are calm. The locals view this as a sign that the freeze has really begun, and if there's one thing I've learned to trust in my time here, it's local knowledge when it comes to the weather.

Finally, since I started writing, the temperature has dropped to -20°C (-28°C with windchill), so not only does this illustrate what I was just saying about local knowledge regarding the weather, it also means that it's time to break open the hot chocolate and marshmallows (the little, hot chocolate mug variety). Night, night.

Room with a view

Now here's something you don't see every day; I looked out from my classroom window yesterday, and what did I see? That's right, a giant cucumber.

Or at least half a giant cucumber.

My life is never dull.

When the boat comes in

Thought I'd share with you the view from my classroom window at school:

The big cargo vessels like this one are a real lifeline for the communities of the North, bringing in all the supplies that are too bulky to be carried by the small DASH-8 planes that are the only other method of transportation from the south. Once the Hudson Bay freezes over though, no ships can get through, which means that for about half the year it's the aircraft or nothing.

In other news...I now have three students (!), and a fourth one is promised any day soon. I wonder if they've been delivered by the boat? Oh, and it snowed again today. Bummer.