Email From Nobby The Elf

Every year we like to try to give our blog page a seasonal theme and in the past we have allowed our authors to give you their take on the Christmas season (with varying degrees of success).
 
This year, however, we thought we should get some contribution from the people that really make Christmas happen, the ones that live at the North Pole.
 
So we emailed Santa and asked for a contribution from himself and maybe one from the reindeer and the elves. Much to our surprise we got all three, though from Mrs Santa, rather than from Santa himself.
 
From now until the Saturday 16th December we’ll be posting the replies. They look a bit like a conversation was taking place, because when we got the emails they prompted a lot of questions, which we asked and for which we got answers. So, we edited them all together to make them easier to read.
 
First up is the reply we got from Nobby The Elf.

Being one of Santa’s Elves is not as great as you might imagine. Will Ferrell has a lot to answer for!
 
(Look out Will, we’re coming for ya)
 
You just have to look at the shape of Santa to know that flatulence is going to be a major issue, right?
 
But it isn’t just that.
 
Let’s take it from the top – literally.
 
Here we are, up at the North Pole, with sod all to do once we knock off for the day. The nearest restaurant is in Longyearbyen (yes it’s a real place – Google it if you don’t believe me).
 
Now, if you haven’t heard of that place before then don’t beat yourself up over it. No one who isn’t from Longyearbyen has ever heard of it either. It’s in Svalbard, which is the largest island in a group of islands owned by Norway.
 
Even other Norwegians haven’t heard of Longyearbyen.
 
Now, there are a couple of things you need to know about Longyearbyen, Svalbard and Norway in general.
 
Trust me, it isn’t all fjords and woolly hats.
 
The main industries up there in Svalbard are fishing and whaling, along with their associated pastimes of fish gutting and blubber rendering. So, in the nearest restaurant to the North Pole there is a lot of fish and whale meat on the menu and not very much else.

If you are looking for fresh fruit or veggies, go somewhere else. If you are lucky there might be a bit of reindeer meat available from time to time, but we don’t go too much on that because, well, you know … It’s a bit close to family you might say.
 
The second thing you have to know is that no country in Europe charges more for alcohol  than the Norwegians. You have to be a millionaire to even attempt to get drunk. Us elves, paid what we are by himself, stand no chance. One beer and that’s month’s wages down the toboggan run without a bobsleigh!
 
At least visitors are spared the smell of rotting fish and dead whales for most of the year, because nothing rots in a country that is basically one giant deep freeze.
 
So, us elves don’t get out much, even when Santa lets us use the sleigh.
 
Now, you’d think that making toys for all the ickle children of the world would be a great job. So much job satisfaction to be had, thinking about all those happy smiling faces waking up on Christmas morning to find what Santa has left under the tree for them.
 
Not a chance.
 
It is monotonous, fiddly work and any self-respecting slave labourer in a third world sweat shop would refuse to do it.
 
I once spent a year putting the eyes into teddy bears. I almost went blind in the process. Now, that would have been ironic.
 
Of course, teddy bears are a thing of the past. These days it’s all Playstations, X-Boxes and robots. At least Barbie is back in fashion this year. We get a lot of fun out them.
 
Don’t judge!
 
You try getting thousands of pairs of plastic boobs to stay the right shape and see what it does to your mental health. Without a little bit of a distraction there would be no Barbies for Christmas, so just think on that when you’re looking into the loving eyes of your little girl (or little boy – unlike you, we don’t judge).
 
And for our Australian readers, Barbies have nothing to do with outdoor cooking. At least, these ones don’t. If it doesn’t come served by a butler on a silver platter, she isn’t interested, not since the movie.
 
I suppose that working long hours for 364 days of the year has its compensations. We have so little time off that the fact the nearest restaurant is 650 miles away (about 1,100 kms) isn’t as bad as it might be.
 
Then there is Christmas Eve.
 
You think Santa slides down the chimney to leave all the presents, don’t you. Well, he doesn’t. That fat lump could never get down a chimney. So, we go down it for him
 
And, of course, it isn’t all chimneys, not anymore. We’ve got log burners, gas boilers, oil furnaces and houses with no chimneys at all to deal with. How do you deal with a house that has underfloor electric heating, for goodness sake? And don’t get me started on heat pumps!
 
I have to say we’ve adapted well. We can wriggle through the holes in an air brick if we have to. It’s pretty tough getting a Playstation through too, but that’s what magic is for.
 
But kids, if you really want to help, leave a window open. Not it your room, of course. We wouldn’t want you to get cold.
 
No, leave the window open in mummy and daddy’s room.
 
But I have to tell you a secret now, so I hope the children won’t be too disappointed to find this out. It isn’t us that eats the mince pies or drinks the sherry. And the reindeer don’t get the carrots. We’ve no time for all that.
 
No, It’s mummy or daddy who scoffs all that stuff.
 
But not the whisky. We may be elves, but we’re not stupid and a tot of whisky keeps us going. Besides, even if we don’t have time to drink it we can always take it back to the North Pole with us and flog it to the Norwegians on the black market next time we go to Longyearbyen.
 
Have you ever travelled on the back of a sleigh in the middle of winter? It’s no picnic, believe me. Santa’s OK, he’s got that big red coat on with all the fur trimmings, but not us. We just wear our normal clothes and a set of stripy socks doesn’t do a good job of keeping the cold out. And pointy ears get frost bitten very easily.
 
You’d think evolution would have done a better job with us, considering where we live, but no. Even nature gave us elves a raw deal.
 
Are there any up sides to being one of Santa’s elves?
 
Just the one.
 
Mrs Clause is a great cook (which is why Santa is the shape he is). She does all the cooking for the toy factory and the meals are great. She doesn’t even charge us too much for them, which is nice of her.
 
I’m one of the lucky ones though. I come up for retirement this year.
 
After 400 years of slaving at toy making and sliding down chimneys, I’m off to Spain to live in a little house I bought there. I picked it up for a song after the last banking crisis. There’s a lovely restaurant at the end of the street with not a bit of whale meat in sight. Ot's right next to a bar that sells cheap beer and shows all the football on Sky Sports.
 
And Santa can go f….
 
(Editor’s apology. The end of the email seems to have been corrupted and Nobby is now too busy to resend it. We think it might have said “And Santa can go for a walk in the snow and not worry about me”. But we can’t be sure.)

​Next week we hear from Vixen the reindeer.

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