Somehow survived my first school trip…

So, how can I sum up the first school trip in my new job and newfound country? A bundle of nerves with a bit of local history thrown in! Somehow survived my first school trip in the Netherlands… I think!

It had all started off so well with the year group team. The trip was well planned and organised, with everyone knowing what was what.

Times, bookings, itinerary, necessary paperwork, and phone numbers, arranging parent helpers and ratios. So, I felt pretty calm and confident about everything.

I’d been more concerned than usual in ensuring that everything was in place and that I knew exactly what was what. Given that I hadn’t been here too long, I was still feeling somewhat unfamiliar with the city and its surroundings. So, I wanted to make sure that I felt fully prepared.  

Not so much because it was my first trip in a new school and in a new country. But because we were taking it in turns and going with our classes individually around the museum for part of the trip. So, I wanted to make sure that I was on the ball, as I didn’t have another colleague to ask or help me out.

But it was ok. Everything had been strategically planned. Everything was in place and ready to run with. The buses were all booked. I had my two parent helpers, and all the necessary paperwork was in place. I put the first aid box on my desk the night before, ready to shove in my bag in the morning.

And, with that, I went home to chill before my first trip the next day. Ready to learn some local history.

The next morning, I’m up and ready! I make sure my phone is in my bag as I wait for the kettle to boil before sipping my early, very necessary, morning coffee. As I sit on the sofa, with necessary morning coffee and BBC news on, my phone suddenly pings from my bag with an email – my work emails!

As I swipe up to unlock the screen in order to read it fully, I can see that it is from one of my parent helpers. My heart sinks into my stomach. It’s 7:10 in the morning. I already know what the content of this email will be, but I’m hoping she’s just wanting to confirm what time the bus is leaving. The email informs me that her child has been sick all night and so she is unable to help out – nor (unsurprisingly!!) will her child be attending the trip.

I know it’s not their fault. Children get sick. But, I am now in worry mode! I knew it was too good to be true. That everything was sorted and nothing could go wrong! I reply, thanking her for letting me know, and that I hope her child feels better soon.

I then frantically email the head. It’s now 7:20. I’m not sure what else I can do. Possibly, there’s a TA from one of the other year group classes who could come along. Or, perhaps the cover teacher could come if no one is off sick.

I leave the flat and make my way to work. I’ve had no reply from the head – but no surprises there! I’m fretting, like I do, the whole way to work.

I’d sent numerous emails asking for parent helpers weeks in advance, and only had two come forward at the beginning of the week. So, there wasn’t much hope in finding someone else an hour before on the morning before we actually go!

At worst, we end up not being able to go, but I can’t turn around and say to the children, ‘We’re not going’. They’ve been excited about this all week. I was overthinking it all, I know! The head will find someone surely, I tell myself.

I get into school and double-check once more that I have everything ready in my bag, ready to go before the children come in. Still no response or sighting from the head teacher!

My worry mode goes up a notch. I have to keep moving and walking around and doing little jobs to keep me busy. Sitting still at the computer is a no, no! I’m just too anxious waiting for the head to get back to me.

The children arrive, and I do the usual gormless ‘me’ thing of smiling and nodding as the parents tell me how much their child is looking forward to today.

I do the register before the whole toilet, lining up in pairs, etc, of getting the class ready to get on the bus. As I’m just finishing taking the register, the head finally pops her head around the door! Better late than never, hey!

She tells me that no one is available, so it’s just me and the one parent helper! She goes on to tell me that it will be ok because we’re not in England! But then, in the breath, I’m also told not to mention we’re an adult down to my parent helper! Mmmmm!!!! Somehow, I beg to differ; this just doesn’t feel quite right somehow!

My gormless ‘me’ look must then have turned into a worried, gormless ‘me’ look as soon as she used the words “ok”, “because”, and “not England” in the same sentence!

Needless to say, I felt totally uncomfortable and wondered why the hell I was going ahead with the trip at this point. Apart from not wanting to let the excited, been looking forward to this trip, we get to dress up in costume, all week, children.

I’m just thankful that it’s a structured tour around a museum and not a trip to the zoo, the beach, or a canal boat trip! Especially after the head decided to inform me about an unfortunate trip she had once on a canal boat trip.

The whole time she was telling me this story, I was just standing there nodding with a nervous smile. Surely she could see how worried and nervous I was already. I wasn’t really doing a great job of hiding it! New to the school, new to the country even, and having to lead part of a school trip. I wasn’t familiar with my surroundings yet, I could just about get myself to work!

I just continue standing. Nodding with that gormless, nervous look on my face, as she goes on her little trip down memory lane.

‘There was a girl who used to work here a few years ago, who was also worried about the same thing. It’s an English thing, I think. We went on a boat trip along the canal. All the children were wearing their life jackets, etc. Only, there’s always one, isn’t there? This boy, quite a chubby thing too, only went and jumped in over the boat, deliberately!’

Why is she telling me this now?!

Well, if I wasn’t worried something could go wrong before. I certainly was now!

She goes on to tell me how they went about getting him out, in intricate detail. At this point I just had to switch off and began to busy myself with organising the class and getting them ready for the bus.

And with that little story scenario whirling around my head, I put the children on the bus. We make sure they all had their seatbelts on and sit on a seat myself. It was quite a ‘posh’ bus. Certainly not like the ones we usually got back home! Funny how it’s always the bus journey you remember more than the actual trip itself isn’t it? It had comfy clean seats, with coffee making facilities at the back, which was bigger than my whole kitchen in my flat!

But as I sit there in the middle of the bus with the children chatting amongst themselves, shhing them when they start getting a bit too noisy. Or telling them to stop turning around, or leaning over their seats. The usual mucking about in their seats on the bus stuff! I’m praying under my breath the whole time that nothing goes wrong, that I get them all back in one piece!

My palms are all sweaty, and my stomach keeps dropping. Honestly, I just can’t wait to get there, do what we have to do without anyone so much as grazing their knee, and get them back within the safety of the school gates again. Which was terrible really! I was looking forward to my first trip almost as much as the class had been!

But, after the head’s little input, it put me on edge the whole time. I just hope it wasn’t obvious to the children or my parent helper.  

However, despite all my worrying and gormless nervousness about the whole situation, the children loved the experience. Which was the most important thing. And, despite feeling nervous about my first school trip in my new job. Especially being made to feel all the more nervous with not having the necessary number of adults. And, with the head’s half-witted recollection of her past trips! Thankfully, the whole thing went without a hitch! And the class, and year group as a whole, had a great time.

Once back at school and talking with other colleagues, I discovered that this seemed to be the norm. Most had their own trip tales to share! Although, nowhere near as dramatic or outrageous as the head’s tale! But certainly not something I wish to repeat. The more adult helpers, the merrier next time!