Snow keeps schools shut for second day as teachers are told not to travel

HUNDREDS of schools will remain closed today after head teachers’ leaders told staff not to come into work if they felt it would be unsafe to travel.

The National Association of Head Teachers advised its members to be cautious, but urged schools not to leave parents “in the lurch” with poor communication. No further snow is forecast but last night ice caused disruption on roads and railways, caused flight delays and left thousands without power. Heathrow airport said it was operating three quarters of its schedule as airlines dealt with the knock-on effects of Sunday’s snowfall.

Yesterday more than 2,700 schools were closed. Today many will stay shut, including more than 50 in Herefordshire alone. Paul Whiteman, general secretary of NAHT, said: “If it’s not safe for the school to be open then it is fine to close … You have to take into consideration both journeys, as conditions may change during the day.” A spokesman for the Department for Education said that it was up to individual schools and local authorities to decide on closures.

The Second Coming wouldn’t have shut my school, let alone a few inches of snow. So it was with some envy that I looked upon the news that a majority of schools in seven counties, as well as in the city of Birmingham, were closed by snow on Monday.

I’m sure that marks me out as immature, lacking in empathy for the unfortunate parents suddenly lumbered with children for the day, and ignorant of the utter chaos facing our transport system. This mild outrage will be accompanied by the usual grumbling about how a little bit of snow causes havoc all across Britain, and questions about why we aren’t better prepared; we must be the laughing stock of Scandinavia.

The sensible answer is to point out that, actually, we can survive a bit of snow. Our infrastructure is prepared for normal levels of bad weather, but do we really want to invest the hundreds of millions of pounds needed to protect against a level of snowfall that happens so infrequently as to dominate headlines whenever it does occur?

If you’re still convinced that we should grit our roads until they are all one giant salt lick, just remember – there will always be a bigger storm than you can prepare for. The city of Montreal is all too familiar with icy winters – two years ago, it launched a “centralised snow-removal policy”. That didn’t save it in March this year when a massive blizzard closed schools, cancelled flights and left 300 people stranded overnight on a motorway. Sometimes, you just can’t fight the weather.

There is also a more important, less prosaic reason not to fit tyre chains and instead grab a tea tray and head for the nearest slope – snow is great, and in England we don’t get it very often.

Having survived the frozen depths of a Canadian winter, I can tell you, it doesn’t matter how cold it gets, or how high the snow banks pile, snow doesn’t lose its majesty. Heading out into the crisp, icy air, with pale blue sky above and the city muffled by snow and your woolly hat is unbeatable. Canadians may love to grumble about winter and all its icy difficulties, but behind the grim resignation lies excitement. The first big snowfall is a starting gun for all of winter’s best outdoor activities: skiing, snowshoeing, ice skating, pond ice hockey.

Back here, there is nothing quite so British as bungling through a national disaster of minor proportions; when Northampton’s “Igloo Cinema” was forced to close because of the arctic weather, it was hard not to giggle. If you really can’t spare the day to play in the snow, then at least revel in the understated determination of those who make it in despite all adversity.

When I was at school, for example, my mother (who taught there) resolved to get to work and drove through the worst snow in a decade with a less-than-enthusiastic son in tow. A terrifying slide down an icy hill later, we made it, only to find the rest of the staff hadn’t bothered and lessons were off (I may have exaggerated about the lack of snow days).

If Canadians can love their bucketings of snow, despite the odd apocalyptic blizzard, then surely we can enjoy our occasional sprinkling? It might not be worth investing in a pair of cross-country skis, but a few hours of getting damp and cold messing about in the white stuff is the perfect interruption to the otherwise grey gloom of an English winter.