Jingle Bells...

Having struggled for inspiration on the title front, I have settled for something suitably festive, if somewhat irrelevant, in what could be the last pre-Christmas update. As ever, things are bowling along well here, and the past ten days have thrown up a number of memorable moments. We're slowly getting round to decorating the house, and a christmas tree was the first point of call. Having discussed the merits of purchasing a tree vs. cutting one down ourselves, a balaclava-clad Coote (photos to follow...) took matters into his own hands whilst the rest of the house were out skiing, and chopped one down. When questioned as to where the tree came from, he proudly announced it was "from the garden"... whether our landlord will share his enthusiasm remains to be seen. The next step, which we haven't quite got round to yet, is making it look pretty -  fortunately a box of decorations were left in the house, ready and waiting for us. Disappointingly, and somewhat bizarrely, the box largely consists of mouse-shaped or related decorations; we can only assume that a previous inhabitant had some sort of ill-advised rodent fetish, which perhaps explains the unwanted visitors from the start of our stay (see blog number one).

The skiing has only got better since the last post, with the last few lifts at the top of the mountain finally opening, and another foot or more of fresh snow falling. We've spent the last couple of days exploring 'Seventh Heaven', an area which has just opened up, much to the joy of the locals we've bumped into. As the name suggests, it is pretty damn good. Coote and I have also done our first 'hike' of the trip - scrambling up to the top of a ridge with our skis on our back, and skiing off into unchartered territory. Definitely not something we expected to be doing this early in the season, and made all the more enjoyable by the fact Leo was enduring a day-long orientation at the hotel he works at. Fulfilling my role as the ever-supportive older brother, I was keeping him updated via text on what was one of the best days we've had so far; we reached the summit of our hike just as he sat down for an hour long carbon emissions seminar - essential knowledge for any good housekeeper... perhaps not?!

Getting used to Canadian snow conditions has also taken some getting used to - the sparsely covered pistes of the Alps seem a world away, and waist deep powder is certainly challenging, and has resulted in some pretty spectacular falls/collisions. Earlier today, Coote completed his first frontflip of the trip - an involuntary frontflip, but a frontflip nonethless. While he did receive a round of applause from the lift he unfortunately found himself beneath, one of his skis was nowhere to be seen when he got back to his feet. After a full twenty minutes of digging around the impact spot, we eventually found said ski buried beneath three feet of snow - it will be a dark day when the first person loses a ski completely, but it seems like it may happen. Leo and I also took brotherly love to another level recently, with a high-speed collision on our first day at the highest point of the mountain. Both verging on out-of-control, on a particularly mogul-covered run, we turned simultaneously and headed towards each other and quickly realised neither of us could stop - our immediate reactions were to put both fists out and close our eyes. Fortunately my lanky limbs meant that Leo was the recipient of a double-fisted punch to the chest, and I escaped unscathed.

As expected, we've also been finding time for the odd drink - Kara has pioneered the 12-hour apres-ski session, and the girls joined us for a few post-skiing beers today... despite the fact they hadn't made it up the mountain. Kara's influence rubbed off on Coote the other day when, having promised to cook dinner that night, the bottom of a pint glass seemed a more attractive option - Leo and I decided it was safest not to leave him alone in the kitchen when he got home. Unfortunately our bank balances aren't quite as rosy as a few weeks ago, meaning house parties are taking preference to hitting the clubs - we had a load of friends round on Friday night, and then headed to a party near our house on Saturday. It turned out to be a pretty epic night - an American style house party (red cups, kegs on the balcony etc), with an alpine twist (wet floors throughout the building, yellow snow by the front door) - and there was even a DJ in the living room. We're planning on having a party sometime between Christmas and New Year, in order to lead Nat astray while he's out here, and the gauntlet has definitely been thrown down. My previous gloating about Leo using my driving licence as ID has also come back to haunt me - the cretin managed to lose it last week so is looking at a dry spell before his birthday next week - my sympathy has been unsurprisingly limited.

We're looking forward to spending Christmas with Mum, Dad, Nat, Granny and Aunty Sarah, and are trying to shuffle shifts at work around to be able to ski with them as much as possible when they arrive next week. This hasn't proven too difficult for Coote and I, as hours are still a little thin on the ground, and we're hoping to have Christmas dinner at Leo's place of work. We also have Leo and Coote's birthdays to look forward to, and we hope the Cheltenham crew don't neglect the Christmas Eve night out tradition; get the gin in Tom! Over and out, love Josh, Leo and Sam.

Waving Goodbye to the World of Unemployment

As the title suggests, the three of us have now kicked off our working lives in Whistler, and we're hoping the cash will be rolling in before too long. While we have all nailed down jobs and had our first couple of shifts, getting enough hours is now the next hurdle - Coote has endured a couple of depressing 45 minute shifts and I've been told I won't be able to work more than three days a week until mid-December. The town is gradually getting busier though, so hopefully we should be able avoid life on the breadline for a while yet. Coote and I are looking for a second job to help supplement what we have already, and Leo has managed to land himself another already - working as a cleaner in a hotel and earning the princely wage of fifteen bucks an hour; I may soon be relying on my younger brother for cash handouts.

The unquestionable up-side to limited hours at work is the resultant scope for extra-curricular activities, with skiing top of the list. We've been getting up the mountain at every possible opportunity - Leo is leading the way so far with ten days skiing out of a possible twelve, although KK and I are close behind with one less. This has inevitably resulted in a certain amount of hungover skiing, and while the mountain air does seem to be a good cure, I have found myself resorting to snowplow turns on particularly painful mornings. We've now covered the vast majority of open pistes (some of the higher lifts are still yet to open) and have been gradually getting more adventurous; having eyed up a lengthy off-piste trail from a lift the other day, we decided to take the plunge... and immediately regretted it. A particularly memorable moment was watching Coote struggle to get back to his feet in waist-deep powder - after five minutes of watching and giggling I got my camera out, only to capture the moment he got back to his feet... See below (and also marvel at the fact I have worked out how to include a photo in the blog!)

We also took some time out of our busy schedule this weekend to take in the World Bobsleigh Championships, which were being held in Whistler, which has its own dedicated 'Sliding Centre'. For the bargain price of ten dollars, we watched the world's best sleighers strut their stuff, and it was bloody impressive. Having started the day hoping for a 'Cool Runnings' style underdog to support, we quickly seized upon Monaco who, unsurprisingly, proved to be pretty inept, although Slovakia gave them a run for their money. The track they go on is, in parts, a vertical wall of ice and they go absurdly fast - the Canadian team also had a pretty spectacular crash which we narrowly missed, alas. The blokes who do it are also pretty impressive specimens, and getting a glimpse into the team changing rooms certainly brightened up KK's day... In the end it came down to a head to head between the German and American teams, and the Americans won to become World as well as Olympic champions, just in case anybody cares...

Now for the first, and probably not the last, injury related paragraph of the holiday. Leo came a cropper on a particularly treacherous blue run the other day, resulting in an impressive black eye which is now turning a nice shade of yellow. He puts the blame down to 'icy patches' and 'catching an edge'... I can only cite poor technique. Meanwhile, Coote's ski boot woes have continued - after suffering all day recently, he took his boot off to find his toenail had turned a nasty shade of purple. He's had a couple of days off now and had his boots readjusted so is hoping to return to the slopes on Saturday - he also attacked the offending toenail with a hot pin tonight (on the recommendation of the ski boot chappy), which seems to have done the trick; I won't go into further detail.

Extended members of the Gadsby family will hopefully be pleased to hear we have brought 'Corks' to a wider audience. While we did substitute the corks for spoons, levels of competitiveness were as high as ever, and Leo and I managed to keep the family name intact with an all-Gadsby final. While Leo did eventually prevail, I direct you to the photos of him man-handling me as some sort of explanation; never before have I witnessed such outrageous cheating. We also had an interesting incident following a night out this week, waking to find saturated carpets down two flights of stairs. We can only assume somebody left a tap on, and there has been an in-house witch hunt to find the culprit; Emily continues to protest her innocence, but we are all quietly confident she is to blame... Anyway, we have a night out to attend to -  much love to one and all, Josh, Leo and Sam xxx