IT was business as usual at our local primary school this week but my friend, a teacher in another town, had a snow day.

She lives on a main road and said she could have got into school with no problems at all but the decision had been taken out of her hands.

On the television news the same morning an education representative was asked if it was strictly necessary for so many schools to close in bad weather.

He made the point that schools couldn’t open if they didn’t have sufficient staff. But he also remarked that teachers could, in theory, be asked to turn up at schools near to where they live instead.

As far as I know this doesn’t happen, but it’s an interesting idea. Perhaps someone should look into it.

The fact is that those of us who rely on motor cars to get to work – and because of this can take jobs miles from where we live – encounter enormous difficulties in the sort of snowy conditions we’ve had this week.

On a good day it takes me little more than 15 minutes to drive to work, but I have estimated that the same journey would take 90 minutes or more on foot. And most of it is uphill. A steep hill at that.

Public transport is an option because the main roads are almost always clear. But I would have to walk for half a mile and then take two buses. The last time I did this I felt like some sort of intrepid explorer by the time I reached the office.

So I do have sympathies for those struggling in to work. But I wonder how many people consider heavy snowfall to be the signal for a extra day of holiday? And, of course, those with children from one of the many closed schools have little choice in the matter and may end up having to take a day from their annual holiday allowance or lose a day’s pay. I bet that self-employed people take a more robust attitude of more trudging and less sledging.

The fact is that even if you live in a snowbound village, most able-bodied people can walk to the nearest main road and hop on a bus. It might not be as fast or comfortable as a car but it’s available, because keeping public transport operational is always a priority.

I don’t remember my primary school ever closing because of snow, although I suppose back then there were few health and safety regulations and no risk assessments of icy pavements. Were teachers and pupils hardier back then or did most of the staff live within walking distance?

In fact, one of the few schools in Huddersfield to open on Monday – Rowley Lane in Lepton – reported that some staff had walked into town to catch a bus to work. So the pioneer spirit still lives on, but is maybe in shorter supply than it used to be.

There were a few other tales of snow-bound heroics this week, with the prize for ‘most determined to get to work’ going to the two Huddersfield Royal Infirmary caterers who walked several miles – from Cleckheaton and Roberttown – to keep staff and visitors supplied with nourishment.

It brought to mind the tale of a senior hospital administrator whom I interviewed many years ago. She used to cross country ski all the way from Marsden if it snowed – and usually managed to get to work on time.

Many of my colleagues have their own stories of laboured journeys to work in order to ensure the flow of news and sport. There is, it has to be said, a certain pleasure to be gained from revealing the efforts one has made to battle through the snow. It also leads to a certain superiority over those who simply cave in at the sight of the first snowflake.

It might be controversial to say this, but it seems to me that the problem isn’t really snow on the roads, but a certain lack of determination to overcome the elements.

As the head teacher of a school in Shropshire, who made newspaper headlines this week because of his “British bulldog” stance, said: “I fear the panic button is being pressed too quickly.”