Myself and A are back home now. The season is over. Both of us are going to do an end of season round up type blog in the next couple of days (well I certainly am, next season will have probably started by the time A gets round to doing one) but for now I wanted to focus on a late arriving character that I have not yet mentioned on here.
Late in the season we were informed by our manager, a very nice, funny Scottish man, that a colleague that had just left was to be replaced by a guy called 'William McTavish'. A real Scottish name if ever there was one. Speculation was rife and there was even a rumour that the Boss had drafted in one of his very own caber tossing, kilt wearing, sporran sporting, ginger bearded cousins to join the team.
The day of Mr McTavish's arrival was upon us and we grouped at the coach drop of point to meet him. The coach doors opened and holiday makers poured off into the sunshine, looking up at the mountain and wondering why they had been lied to by their tour operators and told that they were going on a skiing holiday.
I continued to look towards the door but the smell of haggis just wasn't coming... No tartan. No shortbread. The sound of bagpipes started to seem like mere fantasy. Inexplicably I began to get extremely thirsty for an Irn Bru.
Out of nowhere a very well presented young man of Korean descent with a hairpiece that seemed to have been stolen from a large lego man came up to us and said, 'Hello, I'm Will.' We each said hello back and did our introductions, turns out his name wasn't McTavish and he definitely wasn't Scottish, the Boss had just had one too many fried Mars Bars on the day he told us who was coming and got the Scotch form of verbal diarrhoea.
Will then proceeded to tell us the following, 'I've done a season before, I'm here to do another, I can't wait to get to work, I'm absolutely shattered!' I thought this was quite a noble introduction until I found out he was playing that game where you tell people a load of stuff about yourself and then you have to figure out which single fact is the only piece of truth in the whole spiel. Truth was, little Willie was just 'absolutely shattered'.
So to cut a long story short, Willie, my new flat mate had lied about doing a season previously to his mums friend, the owner of our company, in order to get himself a cheap and easy ski holiday at the end of the season. Over the next 3 weeks, management tried very hard to get in touch with the owner of the company to get permission to fire William. During this time he managed to miss 80% of breakfast shifts, lie in bed for a week with a sore throat but get up each day to go into town for lunch with his friend, serve meat for dinner with no vegetables to guests, say the word 'shattered' a whopping 114 times and use 3 tubs of Garnier Maximum Hold Hair putty.
Finally the Boss was given the go ahead and Willie was given the boot. When asked for his comments on the situation the Boss told us he 'felt like Alan Sugar getting rid of the little maggot' except for him it wasn't 'with regret' but with 'overwhelming pleasure'.
When McTavish was asked for his thought he simply replied that he was 'absolutely shattered'.
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
Saturday, 9 April 2011
Night hike and a Folie fiasco
The snow is horrendous. I have to try very hard not to laugh when newly arriving guests ask me how the skiing is up on the mountain. It's fine though, the sun is glorious. It was A's birthday yesterday so we went for a picnic with some friends. Shorts and t shirts, bare footed in the grass for the first time in months and months, it was wonderful. I've accepted the end of the season is nigh and am now looking forward to the summer. I've even booked my first 2 festival tickets. Just have to keep my fingers crossed for some luck on the Glastonbury resale day.
Tuesday night a group of 16 of us decided to do something a little bit different on the eve of our day off. At 2 in the morning we all woke up and strapped snow shoes to our feet and hiked right up to the very top of the mountain, arriving in time for sunrise. We had hidden our skis and boots there the day before allowing us to ski down before anybody had gone anywhere near the pistes.
It was a really special night and waiting at the top, wrapped in blankets, drinking whiskey to mask the cold before the sun finally arrived has been one of my favourite moments of the whole season.
The hike was a lot of hard work but seeing a shooting star at least every half an hour was enough to get us through. Lucia was also an immense source of entertainment. Within half an hour she revealed she had neglected to bring any water with her in favour of a huge bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey. Good work. An hour after that, the 20 a day smoker filled everyone with confidence by asking if anyone had an inhaler and deciding that this was a good time to let us know she suffers from asthma. She never ceases to amaze me.
Well we made it, and it was beautiful, and that's what counts.
The next day after a couple of hours sleep, still feeling a little bit broken, we jumped on our skis to head over to the resort Val Thorens to go for a party at a famous bar known as the 'Folie Douce'. It was a great ski over and I managed to forget about how tired and sore I was...mainly by Lucia once again pouring a large amount of whiskey down my throat!
So today was the last transfer day of the season, it feels like summer, our last guests have arrived and after this week we can count down the days until we head home. It's been a hell of a season that I'm pretty sure myself and A will never forget. I predict maybe one or 2 more posts on here before shutting the laptop to enjoy the summer... Still, there is always next season to look forward to.
Tuesday night a group of 16 of us decided to do something a little bit different on the eve of our day off. At 2 in the morning we all woke up and strapped snow shoes to our feet and hiked right up to the very top of the mountain, arriving in time for sunrise. We had hidden our skis and boots there the day before allowing us to ski down before anybody had gone anywhere near the pistes.
It was a really special night and waiting at the top, wrapped in blankets, drinking whiskey to mask the cold before the sun finally arrived has been one of my favourite moments of the whole season.
The hike was a lot of hard work but seeing a shooting star at least every half an hour was enough to get us through. Lucia was also an immense source of entertainment. Within half an hour she revealed she had neglected to bring any water with her in favour of a huge bottle of Glenfiddich whiskey. Good work. An hour after that, the 20 a day smoker filled everyone with confidence by asking if anyone had an inhaler and deciding that this was a good time to let us know she suffers from asthma. She never ceases to amaze me.
Well we made it, and it was beautiful, and that's what counts.
The next day after a couple of hours sleep, still feeling a little bit broken, we jumped on our skis to head over to the resort Val Thorens to go for a party at a famous bar known as the 'Folie Douce'. It was a great ski over and I managed to forget about how tired and sore I was...mainly by Lucia once again pouring a large amount of whiskey down my throat!
So today was the last transfer day of the season, it feels like summer, our last guests have arrived and after this week we can count down the days until we head home. It's been a hell of a season that I'm pretty sure myself and A will never forget. I predict maybe one or 2 more posts on here before shutting the laptop to enjoy the summer... Still, there is always next season to look forward to.
Saturday, 2 April 2011
The Easy Life
Last week was far too easy. We had 6 guests. Between 2 of us. This of course did mean that A thought it was acceptable to roll into work 2 hours late in the morning but even then it was still a breeze. And don't worry, it's all being added onto the tab.
We have just greeted our guests for this week, back to a full chalet and 7 children. Alice in the chalet downstairs has a guest called Alex. He is 3...and brilliant. I'm so jealous, it's fine though because I have already made great friends with him. I walked out onto her balcony earlier and young Alex came bounding up to me shouting 'I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD!!'.
He had found a lizard.
The 2 of us followed the lizard along the sunny chalet wall for a while before it disappeared into a crack I assume it had adopted as its home. Being the sheep that I am I disappeared into my own crack(den) to roll myself a cigarette after a hard transfer day. Behind me I hear a small high pitched voice say 'Oh so this is your bedroom!'. I turned around to find 3 year old Alex rooting through my belongings and making himself at home in my flat.
Once I had finally ushered him out of my 'not safe for children' living space he started eating dirty brown end-of-season snow from the ground. I told him it probably wasn't a good idea and he might get sick. He ran away so I assumed he had taken what I said on board.
30 seconds later Alex reappeared with a large stick with a big dirty snowball on the end of it. 'Here you go, I brought you an ice cream'.
As far as guests go I think this week will be fine, nothing out of the ordinary. We have, however, just received our manifest for next weeks guests. Wow.
QUOTE: 'Mrs ***** only eats plain salad, steamed/boiled vegetables and steamed/baked fish or tuna'.
What shocked me was not the fact that I only just found out tuna is in fact in a whole different food group to fish, but the fact that this guests requirements spilled onto the next line of the manifest...
'Furthermore, guest and partner have very recently split up, please can they have separate beds.'
To be honest, I'd have dumped the fussy cow too.
We have just greeted our guests for this week, back to a full chalet and 7 children. Alice in the chalet downstairs has a guest called Alex. He is 3...and brilliant. I'm so jealous, it's fine though because I have already made great friends with him. I walked out onto her balcony earlier and young Alex came bounding up to me shouting 'I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD, I FOUND A LIZARD!!'.
He had found a lizard.
The 2 of us followed the lizard along the sunny chalet wall for a while before it disappeared into a crack I assume it had adopted as its home. Being the sheep that I am I disappeared into my own crack(den) to roll myself a cigarette after a hard transfer day. Behind me I hear a small high pitched voice say 'Oh so this is your bedroom!'. I turned around to find 3 year old Alex rooting through my belongings and making himself at home in my flat.
Once I had finally ushered him out of my 'not safe for children' living space he started eating dirty brown end-of-season snow from the ground. I told him it probably wasn't a good idea and he might get sick. He ran away so I assumed he had taken what I said on board.
30 seconds later Alex reappeared with a large stick with a big dirty snowball on the end of it. 'Here you go, I brought you an ice cream'.
As far as guests go I think this week will be fine, nothing out of the ordinary. We have, however, just received our manifest for next weeks guests. Wow.
QUOTE: 'Mrs ***** only eats plain salad, steamed/boiled vegetables and steamed/baked fish or tuna'.
What shocked me was not the fact that I only just found out tuna is in fact in a whole different food group to fish, but the fact that this guests requirements spilled onto the next line of the manifest...
'Furthermore, guest and partner have very recently split up, please can they have separate beds.'
To be honest, I'd have dumped the fussy cow too.
Tuesday, 29 March 2011
A few corrections and an Animal Party
A here, sitting having a lovely chocolat chaud avec chantille with our whiskey-slugging bad influence Lucia (I demonstrated to her what it looks like to eat all the whipped cream in one go, she was very impressed.)
She wants to make a few ammendments to J's previous post... well one important ammendment anyway.
The cold sore epidemic did not start with her. Oh no.
The cold sore epidemic all began many moons before that... (This is revenge J. Best served cold.)
One sunny day J was enjoying the apres with a fellow host, who I shall call Charles. Charles and J were delighted to discover they both have a shared appreciation for Take That. "What fun! We both love terrible pop music! I wonder if we have anything else in common? Oh look, we both have cold sores! What a coincidence!"
Male bonding in its most primative form. The sharing of your woman. I am not going to name names, but you're right J, there is a lot of love around resort, and the evidence was all over your face mate.
Now thats done, Lucia wants to do a guest entry...
She wants to make a few ammendments to J's previous post... well one important ammendment anyway.
The cold sore epidemic did not start with her. Oh no.
The cold sore epidemic all began many moons before that... (This is revenge J. Best served cold.)
One sunny day J was enjoying the apres with a fellow host, who I shall call Charles. Charles and J were delighted to discover they both have a shared appreciation for Take That. "What fun! We both love terrible pop music! I wonder if we have anything else in common? Oh look, we both have cold sores! What a coincidence!"
Male bonding in its most primative form. The sharing of your woman. I am not going to name names, but you're right J, there is a lot of love around resort, and the evidence was all over your face mate.
Now thats done, Lucia wants to do a guest entry...
A, J and myself were on chalet Laitalet 2's balcany this morning having a ciggi and staring out into the distance.
I asked them both "where do all the animals go in the winter?"
There was a pause.
A and J looked at eachother and then slowly back at me.
J replied with a confused expression "h...h...haven't you heard about the animal party?!"
I laughed. He didn't. A informed me that the mountains were infact hollow, "Yeah, the mountain is hollow..."
(the thing about this conversation is that these two were replying with upmost sincerity; as if I hadn't heard about the animal party?!)
"You know when you're on the chairlift and you see those little footprint tracks beneath you? yeah well they're like the little marmottes stumbling out of the winter rave seen from the hollow mountain to pick up some more crates" J says whilst immitating a little drunk marmotte carrying a crate of beer. "I'm pretty sure I saw a chipmonk the other day rolling a keg around....47 second keg stand by the chipmonks....fuckin A."
A turns to me, and with the straightest and most serious face I have seen on that girl says to me "It's all about the animal party"
I asked them both "where do all the animals go in the winter?"
There was a pause.
A and J looked at eachother and then slowly back at me.
J replied with a confused expression "h...h...haven't you heard about the animal party?!"
I laughed. He didn't. A informed me that the mountains were infact hollow, "Yeah, the mountain is hollow..."
(the thing about this conversation is that these two were replying with upmost sincerity; as if I hadn't heard about the animal party?!)
"You know when you're on the chairlift and you see those little footprint tracks beneath you? yeah well they're like the little marmottes stumbling out of the winter rave seen from the hollow mountain to pick up some more crates" J says whilst immitating a little drunk marmotte carrying a crate of beer. "I'm pretty sure I saw a chipmonk the other day rolling a keg around....47 second keg stand by the chipmonks....fuckin A."
A turns to me, and with the straightest and most serious face I have seen on that girl says to me "It's all about the animal party"
Monday, 28 March 2011
Saulire Sessions
Our rep, Kyle, has left us to go back to his job on Barry Island (hotdogs and candyfloss served up by a gypo on the back of a donkey) as a tree surgeon. We are all very saddened by this and my ritual of an after ski cigarette and a beer on his balcony will be severely missed. I will not miss ‘the rage’ that seems to occur whenever he consumes large amounts of alcohol but still…there is a gaping hole left in the resort.
There is currently a cold sore epidemic in our resort. It started with Lucia, my bad influence as A refers to her. It popped up when she was run down a couple of weeks ago and since then about 7 other people have developed some very unattractive lips. It is difficult to tell how exactly it has been spread about and the order in which it has happened but it is fair to say that many of my colleagues are perhaps feeling the love for each other a little too much.
A has become a little cocky with work now that she is nailing the budget and continues to turn up late and leave me in the lurch, it’s fine though, I’m just biding my time to take all the time I’m owed at once – might take a week off.
So I have finally made the decision with regards to what to do later this year… I’m sacking off uni and doing another season. I’ll be coming back to the same resort to run a chalet with my friend Anna. A is still unsure but will potentially be coming back as a rep.
As I am no longer going to be doing the music management course I have been putting off for 3 years it seems the music promoter within me had been getting itchy eardrums. About 2 weeks ago myself and some friends came up with the idea for the ‘Saulire Sessions’. We are basically bugging any local musicians we come across to cram into one of the ski bubbles with us and film a short acoustic session to be released on youtube as an online series.
We have filmed several already and there are more on the way, these can be viewed at www.youtube.com/sauliresessions
For now, a plus don la bus.
Monday, 21 March 2011
Chalet of the Week... Controversial!
SO….! Big news, mine and A’s chalet has once again received the ‘Chalet of the Week’ award. This means we can be happy in the knowledge that we are fucking ace hosts, it also means we get to take a morning off. For some people though, having a morning off is a privilege they can decide to take on a whim as I discovered this week when A abandoned me during breakfast. She got away with it though because she has really been on top of the budget recently. It was a tough trek at the start of the season but she got under budget eventually. (You owe me a morning!!)
For those of you that thought I was dead, the rumours are not true, I am alive and kicking, A is correct though…I am living the rock and roll dream. The season however, is slowly reaching a ripe old age and preparing for retirement which is very sad indeed. As A mentioned, it is also causing some dilemmas to present themselves to us. This September the plan was to finally take the Music Management Degree I have deferred for the last 2 years and get on track to becoming the next Michael Eavis. Each and every day the idea of another season becomes more and more attractive.
I’ve been told by several people to sack off uni and do another season, rock and roll. I’ve been told by many others that I should go back to school and better myself, get my career started, expand my horizons etc. I was hoping my mother would just straight out tell me what to do but she told me (very briefly of course) I need to weigh up the pros and cons of both options and decide whether university is a financially viable option. So I’m none the wiser. I’m just going to carry on having it in a big way and hopefully I’ll make a brash decision and stupidly confirm it when I’m drunk and won’t be able to go back on it.
Ask no questions, hear no lies.
The last 4 weeks could not have been more different to each other. We had our lovely gluten free guest, a group of nutters who presented a dick of the day award each evening, the winner of which had to wear an alligator costume for an entire night, the lovely family with the breakdancing kid, the Saga group with a man in his 90s who skiied every single day and the last week a group of Londoners who to my delight have given A no end of grief for her missed shift earlier in the week.
One of my favourite moments of late came from the family. One of the youngsters had their birthday in the Chalet so we made her a cake and put up a load of balloons in the evening. The kids ate a load of cake, drank a load of coke and went absolutely bonkers for about an hour. One of them shoved a balloon up his jumper and started running around saying ‘I’m pregnant, I’m pregnant!!’ It was at this point that his Dad (who had consumed several glasses of fizzy pop himself) came jumping out from round a corner with a drawing pin and shouted, ‘AND I’M THE MIDWIFE!’ before popping his sons pregnant balloon belly, leaving him looking like he had just prematurely deployed the ‘chorizo pork stew’ we served for dinner that evening.
Thursday, 17 March 2011
Rock'N'Rolla
This post is a response to the fierce rumours running rife (amazing alliteration from A) in Angleterre that J has gone 'off the rails'... Apparently some people are growing concerned because whenever anyone from home phones J is absolutely smashed.
So to clarify... yes. He is smashed a lot. But no, he hasnt gone off the rails. He's just rock and roll.
As he said to me this morning whilst cooking breakfast and swigging port frrom the bottle, "Theres no school like old school and I'm the fucking headmaster".
A ski season is already a pretty messy affair, you work hard, ski hard, then play hard. To quote another ski blogger,"you dont so much burn the candle at both ends... rather you blow torch it from all angles." But a couple of months ago we had a new addition to our living space, in the form of Lucia, who doesnt like being called this, but is a bit of a lad; she drinks whiskey straight, dresses a bit like a gangster, and likes to break the law. She is a terrible influence (which I think is wonderful) and has pushed J into new realms of trouble. With her, he drinks shots.
Two weeks ago we had our mid season staff day out to Annecy, this is a messy messy day. We all went out on Tuesday night, some did not get to bed till it was light outside. No names mentioned but I'm pretty sure J was one of the ones who walked home up the ski slope at 5:30am. The following morning, after an hour or so's sleep, a coach picked us up, and on everyone piles complete with bottles of beer (or in Lucias case, whiskey, and mine, gin and tonic) and a party-hard mentality. Two hours later we roll up to Annecy, some people are already having trouble walking, and are basically let loose onto this quaint french town to fully uphold the english-abroad stereotype. Within about 10 minutes J and Lucia are kicked out of foot locker after knocking over all the displays. The day unfolds pretty much as it starts, J and the 18 year old ladies man knock over all the pieces on a giant chess set up in the shopping mall, Lucia drags me into a photo booth and makes me take my top off, the welshman gets in a fight with a group of homeless folk and the day ends with 100 seasonnaires descending on Mcdonalds for their first Big Mac in 4 months.
Yesterday ourselves and our co-workers hopped on a coach at 8am to Tignes to watch the X-Games. This basically meant we spent a day sitting on the side of a slope, drinking the deceptively named "crazy juice" (white wine and apple juice.. not particularly crazy) occasionally turning around to see if anything was happening on the half pipe. Later on in the day, the action did actually start, and with a 3pm hangover kicking in, we watched the pro's from the designated viewing area along either side of the half pipe.
Well some of us did. Two people, my lovely co-host and his bad influence, bribed a security guard with a 2 euro coin to let them shimmy under a ski lift, where they then climbed a TV tower to get a better view of the games. After being told once to climb down, they waited about 5 minutes before climbing back up, and then were physically escorted from the X-games by security. Bad bad J.
In other news J and I are facing a tricky decision. Both of us have university places waiting for us to take up in September, but as the end of the season looms more and more people are making plans to return to this or other resorts next season, and we both want to do the same.
A season is really best done whilst you're still young whereas uni can wait... I'm 50/50 at the moment but we have our eye on a little place in the centre of town that we feel we could reign over as king and queen of the 2* chalet.
I am hoping that guidance will come in the form of our lovely friend from home who arrives on a transfer bus on Saturday, whom is going to give us both stern words in all aspects of our lifes, as we have both been misbehaving in a big way. Ski seasons are bubbles and you lose perspective on everything at home. This lovely friend is our first guest from home of the season and I'm very excited. I have already moved a crate of wine and some clean towels down to my apartment from the chalet, and asked around for someone with a bit more experience than me to teach her how to ski. This lovely friend, whom I shall call 'S' (I don't think that letter has been used yet) has already told me off for using the word 'steazy' in a serious way though, so I hope she doesnt think we have become a bit too cool for school. Particularly J, the self-proclaimed 'fucking headmaster'.
Anyway, for now, this is over and out! (I am definately not too cool...)
So to clarify... yes. He is smashed a lot. But no, he hasnt gone off the rails. He's just rock and roll.
As he said to me this morning whilst cooking breakfast and swigging port frrom the bottle, "Theres no school like old school and I'm the fucking headmaster".
A ski season is already a pretty messy affair, you work hard, ski hard, then play hard. To quote another ski blogger,"you dont so much burn the candle at both ends... rather you blow torch it from all angles." But a couple of months ago we had a new addition to our living space, in the form of Lucia, who doesnt like being called this, but is a bit of a lad; she drinks whiskey straight, dresses a bit like a gangster, and likes to break the law. She is a terrible influence (which I think is wonderful) and has pushed J into new realms of trouble. With her, he drinks shots.
Two weeks ago we had our mid season staff day out to Annecy, this is a messy messy day. We all went out on Tuesday night, some did not get to bed till it was light outside. No names mentioned but I'm pretty sure J was one of the ones who walked home up the ski slope at 5:30am. The following morning, after an hour or so's sleep, a coach picked us up, and on everyone piles complete with bottles of beer (or in Lucias case, whiskey, and mine, gin and tonic) and a party-hard mentality. Two hours later we roll up to Annecy, some people are already having trouble walking, and are basically let loose onto this quaint french town to fully uphold the english-abroad stereotype. Within about 10 minutes J and Lucia are kicked out of foot locker after knocking over all the displays. The day unfolds pretty much as it starts, J and the 18 year old ladies man knock over all the pieces on a giant chess set up in the shopping mall, Lucia drags me into a photo booth and makes me take my top off, the welshman gets in a fight with a group of homeless folk and the day ends with 100 seasonnaires descending on Mcdonalds for their first Big Mac in 4 months.
Yesterday ourselves and our co-workers hopped on a coach at 8am to Tignes to watch the X-Games. This basically meant we spent a day sitting on the side of a slope, drinking the deceptively named "crazy juice" (white wine and apple juice.. not particularly crazy) occasionally turning around to see if anything was happening on the half pipe. Later on in the day, the action did actually start, and with a 3pm hangover kicking in, we watched the pro's from the designated viewing area along either side of the half pipe.
Well some of us did. Two people, my lovely co-host and his bad influence, bribed a security guard with a 2 euro coin to let them shimmy under a ski lift, where they then climbed a TV tower to get a better view of the games. After being told once to climb down, they waited about 5 minutes before climbing back up, and then were physically escorted from the X-games by security. Bad bad J.
In other news J and I are facing a tricky decision. Both of us have university places waiting for us to take up in September, but as the end of the season looms more and more people are making plans to return to this or other resorts next season, and we both want to do the same.
A season is really best done whilst you're still young whereas uni can wait... I'm 50/50 at the moment but we have our eye on a little place in the centre of town that we feel we could reign over as king and queen of the 2* chalet.
I am hoping that guidance will come in the form of our lovely friend from home who arrives on a transfer bus on Saturday, whom is going to give us both stern words in all aspects of our lifes, as we have both been misbehaving in a big way. Ski seasons are bubbles and you lose perspective on everything at home. This lovely friend is our first guest from home of the season and I'm very excited. I have already moved a crate of wine and some clean towels down to my apartment from the chalet, and asked around for someone with a bit more experience than me to teach her how to ski. This lovely friend, whom I shall call 'S' (I don't think that letter has been used yet) has already told me off for using the word 'steazy' in a serious way though, so I hope she doesnt think we have become a bit too cool for school. Particularly J, the self-proclaimed 'fucking headmaster'.
Anyway, for now, this is over and out! (I am definately not too cool...)
Saturday, 5 March 2011
Gluten Free??...Gluten Fuck Off!
So it's been a weird few weeks with guests. A couple of weeks ago we had the worst week of guests the whole season. We recieved the manifest and realised we had a few dietary requirements to contend with which was nothing new and therefore no big deal. The guests arrived and I sat down with the gluten free guest and our menu to go through it with her and work out how I could best accomodate her needs. She looked at me like I had a large turd growing out of my forehead and informed me that it was a 'dietary requirement, not and allergy' and she was 'sure I could deal with it'.
This grandiloquent response only spurred me on to take her needs into further consideration and wow her with my care and attentiveness. Dessert that night was an apple and citrus tart, the pastry in this dish meant our gluten free guest had to have something different so I set to work creating a stuffed baked apple for her. I hollowed the apple out and delicately layered the inside with a mixture of crushed almonds, currants, apricot and caramelised brown sugar. I then laboriously made a sweet lemon syrup and drizzled it carefully, first over the apple and then in a circle around the dessert I had created especially for my guest. I roasted it slowly on a low heat for 40 minutes before serving it to her, smile on my face that I had created such a treat that I was sure she would appreciate.
'Lucky me... I'm getting an apple.'
Bitch.
The week continued in a similar fashion, sarcastic comments, disapproving looks, faces like slapped arses. There wasn't a lot A and myself could do without the silly cow actually telling us what we were doing wrong though. Luckily the weeks only saving grace was the 3 or 4 lovely guests that actually came up to us at the end and apologised for having shit friends with wooden planks up their bums. Turns out the only reason 'Glutemous' didn't come up to us and voice her complaints is because she wanted to wait until the end and write it all down in our Customer Service Questionaire (anonymously too, coward) in an attempt to make us lose our end of season bonus and get us in trouble with the company.
We handed the CSQ straight into our manager and explained the situtation. He told us not to worry and that he knows we are doing the very best we can. Sometimes you just crack open an egg hoping for a tasty treat and unfortunately find a rotting chicken fetus inside.
Wow...Rant, I'm sorry.
Anyway the following week perked us up so much. A group of 13 with 7 kids. All lovely. The family couldn't do enough to help us out and the kids were so much fun. A notable mention was Ruben, the 9 year old street dancer who I had a moonwalk-off with in the kitchen.
After such a horrible week the week before I was so nice to have a group who all got along, were happy, and appreciated everything we did for them. The final night of the week we spent in the chalet playing a game of 'Who's in the bag?' with them. A firm Christmas favourite with my family at home so it was really something to sit down with the family and join in.
And last week things only got better. A group of 12, similar ages to ourselves who were very keen...no almost forceful in getting us to join in with their fun and games. Some evenings before leaving the chalet we were forced to complete a drinking game before we could leave the door.
It was this drinking game that caused 7 out of 12 guests to vomit over the balcony creating a huge red wine massacre in the snow outside the front door of my apartment. As disgusting as it sounds it was nice to hang out with a group of guests who we could hang out with in our chalet as friends and not people we were technically 'working for'.
The week ended with our best tip of the season and A getting the email address of the 'hottest guest ever', wants some work experience with him apparently, I dunno!?
I have just finished greeting this weeks guests, all of them are over 60 and retired, another change of pace. I'll keep you posted.
Next time... tales of our mid season mash up in the nearby city of Annecy (to which I don't think any of my company will be welcome back in the near future).
This grandiloquent response only spurred me on to take her needs into further consideration and wow her with my care and attentiveness. Dessert that night was an apple and citrus tart, the pastry in this dish meant our gluten free guest had to have something different so I set to work creating a stuffed baked apple for her. I hollowed the apple out and delicately layered the inside with a mixture of crushed almonds, currants, apricot and caramelised brown sugar. I then laboriously made a sweet lemon syrup and drizzled it carefully, first over the apple and then in a circle around the dessert I had created especially for my guest. I roasted it slowly on a low heat for 40 minutes before serving it to her, smile on my face that I had created such a treat that I was sure she would appreciate.
'Lucky me... I'm getting an apple.'
Bitch.
The week continued in a similar fashion, sarcastic comments, disapproving looks, faces like slapped arses. There wasn't a lot A and myself could do without the silly cow actually telling us what we were doing wrong though. Luckily the weeks only saving grace was the 3 or 4 lovely guests that actually came up to us at the end and apologised for having shit friends with wooden planks up their bums. Turns out the only reason 'Glutemous' didn't come up to us and voice her complaints is because she wanted to wait until the end and write it all down in our Customer Service Questionaire (anonymously too, coward) in an attempt to make us lose our end of season bonus and get us in trouble with the company.
We handed the CSQ straight into our manager and explained the situtation. He told us not to worry and that he knows we are doing the very best we can. Sometimes you just crack open an egg hoping for a tasty treat and unfortunately find a rotting chicken fetus inside.
Wow...Rant, I'm sorry.
Anyway the following week perked us up so much. A group of 13 with 7 kids. All lovely. The family couldn't do enough to help us out and the kids were so much fun. A notable mention was Ruben, the 9 year old street dancer who I had a moonwalk-off with in the kitchen.
After such a horrible week the week before I was so nice to have a group who all got along, were happy, and appreciated everything we did for them. The final night of the week we spent in the chalet playing a game of 'Who's in the bag?' with them. A firm Christmas favourite with my family at home so it was really something to sit down with the family and join in.
And last week things only got better. A group of 12, similar ages to ourselves who were very keen...no almost forceful in getting us to join in with their fun and games. Some evenings before leaving the chalet we were forced to complete a drinking game before we could leave the door.
It was this drinking game that caused 7 out of 12 guests to vomit over the balcony creating a huge red wine massacre in the snow outside the front door of my apartment. As disgusting as it sounds it was nice to hang out with a group of guests who we could hang out with in our chalet as friends and not people we were technically 'working for'.
The week ended with our best tip of the season and A getting the email address of the 'hottest guest ever', wants some work experience with him apparently, I dunno!?
I have just finished greeting this weeks guests, all of them are over 60 and retired, another change of pace. I'll keep you posted.
Next time... tales of our mid season mash up in the nearby city of Annecy (to which I don't think any of my company will be welcome back in the near future).
Monday, 28 February 2011
J - Flow and F' Dup....F'd up!
The night was upon us. We had been in to the Privilage discotheque the night before and I drunkenly threw some scraps of paper onto the bar, our playlist, to show Xavier that we had been doing some preparation work. He told us he was excited to work with us and looking forward to the next night.
Upon arrival we were led to the DJ booth and told to set up our equipment. Xavier looked confused when the 2 of us produced a laptop and an ipod along with a couple of little wires and a portable hard drive. We told him to set the stuff up for us, I think at this point he still thought we were professional disc jockeys and this was just the demand of a diva.
Shortly afterwards the set started, our whole company were in the building and everyone had a great night, made all the more special by mine and F'Dup's multiple costume changes, at one point there was a penguin and a dinosaur spinning (or clicking) tunes in the booth.
About an hour before the set was due to finish Xavier stopped providing us with free beer and what was once a smile had definate scowl like qualities to it. The night ended and we packed away our gear.
'Good night Xavier?' asked F'Dup
'No, it was a very bad night. You told me you were DJs, you are not DJs. This is the first time, it is also the last time.' was his response.
Needless to say, it was an extremely fun night, we got paid 40 euros each to play our favourite songs and I think it is quite an achievement to be able to tell people we got our entire company banned from a nightclub!
Upon arrival we were led to the DJ booth and told to set up our equipment. Xavier looked confused when the 2 of us produced a laptop and an ipod along with a couple of little wires and a portable hard drive. We told him to set the stuff up for us, I think at this point he still thought we were professional disc jockeys and this was just the demand of a diva.
Shortly afterwards the set started, our whole company were in the building and everyone had a great night, made all the more special by mine and F'Dup's multiple costume changes, at one point there was a penguin and a dinosaur spinning (or clicking) tunes in the booth.
About an hour before the set was due to finish Xavier stopped providing us with free beer and what was once a smile had definate scowl like qualities to it. The night ended and we packed away our gear.
'Good night Xavier?' asked F'Dup
'No, it was a very bad night. You told me you were DJs, you are not DJs. This is the first time, it is also the last time.' was his response.
Needless to say, it was an extremely fun night, we got paid 40 euros each to play our favourite songs and I think it is quite an achievement to be able to tell people we got our entire company banned from a nightclub!
Tuesday, 15 February 2011
Still Here
Last Night J told me it made him 'really sad' that I didnt blog anymore, and he looked very close to tears as he said it, so J, this one is for you. Chin up old boy.
First things first though, to clear up a few untruths he has been spreading in my absence...
Yes i am learning to snowboard, but learning is the important word here, I am only just starting to link turns, but i did make a dramatic improvement in the middle of last week after my favourite guest of all time took me snowboarding for a couple of hours. I did seriously hurt my bum, but did wonders for my self confidence. And I never use the word gnarly, J is just jealous because I have formed a professional relationship with a cute californian who works for a rental company who has for some reason decided to supply me with lots of free stuff. I now have 2 snowboards and 3 pairs of skis! I find it funny, and J is mad jealous, so its a win win situation.
The reason I have not been updating that much is because I NEVER have my laptop, because someone else always has it, which has recently started to bug me. Also I've been ill for about 5 days now... I have been burning the candle at every single possible end, and thought I was getting better at coping with little sleep but alas, the 'work hard, ski hard, party hard' lifestyle has caught up with me and I have crashed in spectacular fashion. Had some time off work, which I have spent drifting in and out sweaty sleep. J has been very good though, force feeding me berocca and lemsip. My roommate Alice moved out though as she was worried about catching whatever I had, and I have missed her like you'd miss a leg. Alice is the best roommate in the world: she wakes me up every morning at exactly 7:20am and then comes in again at 7:25am to make sure I have actually gotten up. If I am having trouble getting out of bed, she gives me a private strip tease whilst singing 'Big Spender' tunelessly and with the wrong words. She always holds my hand whilst we fall asleep, and if im cold she lies on top of me. Amazing, Alice, come back to the abode d'amour. Oh the other thing she does is talk non-stop in her sleep. Proper conversations. Sometimes she swears furiously.
It was valentines day yesterday and I got NOTHING. that was pretty rubbish. Actually thats a tiny lie, James who runs the chalet next door bought me a vin chaud but I sense that was a pity drink. And my lovely flatmate Anna gave me a flower, but I think she found it, so that doesnt count either.
First things first though, to clear up a few untruths he has been spreading in my absence...
Yes i am learning to snowboard, but learning is the important word here, I am only just starting to link turns, but i did make a dramatic improvement in the middle of last week after my favourite guest of all time took me snowboarding for a couple of hours. I did seriously hurt my bum, but did wonders for my self confidence. And I never use the word gnarly, J is just jealous because I have formed a professional relationship with a cute californian who works for a rental company who has for some reason decided to supply me with lots of free stuff. I now have 2 snowboards and 3 pairs of skis! I find it funny, and J is mad jealous, so its a win win situation.
The reason I have not been updating that much is because I NEVER have my laptop, because someone else always has it, which has recently started to bug me. Also I've been ill for about 5 days now... I have been burning the candle at every single possible end, and thought I was getting better at coping with little sleep but alas, the 'work hard, ski hard, party hard' lifestyle has caught up with me and I have crashed in spectacular fashion. Had some time off work, which I have spent drifting in and out sweaty sleep. J has been very good though, force feeding me berocca and lemsip. My roommate Alice moved out though as she was worried about catching whatever I had, and I have missed her like you'd miss a leg. Alice is the best roommate in the world: she wakes me up every morning at exactly 7:20am and then comes in again at 7:25am to make sure I have actually gotten up. If I am having trouble getting out of bed, she gives me a private strip tease whilst singing 'Big Spender' tunelessly and with the wrong words. She always holds my hand whilst we fall asleep, and if im cold she lies on top of me. Amazing, Alice, come back to the abode d'amour. Oh the other thing she does is talk non-stop in her sleep. Proper conversations. Sometimes she swears furiously.
It was valentines day yesterday and I got NOTHING. that was pretty rubbish. Actually thats a tiny lie, James who runs the chalet next door bought me a vin chaud but I sense that was a pity drink. And my lovely flatmate Anna gave me a flower, but I think she found it, so that doesnt count either.
Sunday, 13 February 2011
A the boarder...
I would just like to apologize on behalf of A for her lack of posts. She has been extremely busy becoming a 'boarder'.
It all started about a week ago when our company offered her a free boarding lesson. Since then everything has changed. She stands differently, has a bad attitude and says 'Sup' with a nod of the head to greet people. It's not just a sport though, it's a language...yesterday she told me that my lemon drizzle cake was 'rad' before going off on an incomprehensible rant about smiling rocker frowney snowboards.
I'm not sure how I feel about this. On one hand it's always good to be associated with 'cool' people (she was a massive nerd before). But on the other hand I liked her a lot before and now, if I'm honest, I'm a bit scared of her. Apparently her feet have turned goofy, whatever that means.
Other people seem to be really into the new A too. This week a lovely guest of ours was a snowboard instructor and took her out for a free lesson in the afternoon. But the strangest thing, somehow, out of nowhere this magical American ski man has just started popping up in our chalet without appropriate identification, saying 'Sup' and giving A free boards and skis. He won't leave her alone. He had given her a pair of boots and a board before he knew her name and now he knows it she has 2 new pairs of skis also. I don't know.
If A isn't too cool now to update on here I'll try and get her to do a post but to be honest she will probably be too busy sitting on kickers being gnarly.
Thursday, 10 February 2011
J - Flow vs. F'Dup
Exciting times in resort. Myself and my friend Fred were having a drink in a local bar and we were talking to the bar staff about the local 'discotheque'. The owner of the aforementioned discotheque; Xavier, happened to be propping up the bar next to us and for some reason Fred decided it would be a great idea to tell him that we were super cool famous established DJs from London.
Two days later we find ourselves in the club at 5pm having a beer with Xavier letting him know our terms and talking money. It was a pleasant enough meeting, made slightly bizarre by the following conversation.
Fred: 'How do you feel about costumes?'.
Xavier: I don't understand.
Fred: Sometimes when we do our shit back home we like to dress up crazy and freak people out a little bit.
Me: Yeh... like a pirate.
Xavier runs over to the DJ booth and appears moments later wearing a huge spikey green wig shouting 'COSTUMES ARE FINE BY ME!'.
Somehow we have managed to secure ourselves ('J Flow vs. F'Dup'), a 3 hr minimum set from 1-4am on the 22nd of Feb. We are getting paid 100 Euros to stand in the booth and choose songs on our ipods.
The poster outside the club now reads 'J Flow vs. F'Dup : Big Vibes and Classic Grooves'.
Two days later we find ourselves in the club at 5pm having a beer with Xavier letting him know our terms and talking money. It was a pleasant enough meeting, made slightly bizarre by the following conversation.
Fred: 'How do you feel about costumes?'.
Xavier: I don't understand.
Fred: Sometimes when we do our shit back home we like to dress up crazy and freak people out a little bit.
Me: Yeh... like a pirate.
Xavier runs over to the DJ booth and appears moments later wearing a huge spikey green wig shouting 'COSTUMES ARE FINE BY ME!'.
Somehow we have managed to secure ourselves ('J Flow vs. F'Dup'), a 3 hr minimum set from 1-4am on the 22nd of Feb. We are getting paid 100 Euros to stand in the booth and choose songs on our ipods.
The poster outside the club now reads 'J Flow vs. F'Dup : Big Vibes and Classic Grooves'.
Not the resort for 9 year old lady loving party animals
A's absence was a difficult time. I was forced to do such tiresome things as learn where things are kept in my kitchen and grate things. A usually does all the grating, she's got a weird grating fetish, a gratish.
I finally got my co host back on Tuesday and I went along to the airport with my boss to pick her up as a surprise. I also arranged for our friend working in another resort to meet us at the airport and come and stay for a few days so it was a very exciting reunion, made even more exciting by the fact that A bought presents. I got a packed lunch box.
We've had a pretty boring couple of weeks with guests. Nothing particularly bad, just nobody exciting. My highlight from last week was made by our 9 year old guest named Tom. Tom was a lovely kid, very helpful and always hanging out in the kitchen keeping us entertained.
On the last day of the week before Tom and his family left, myself and A were quizzing him about his time here, asking if he was gonna go out for a beer that night, maybe meet some girls. Our friend Fred asked him if he had met many nice girls during the week to which he nonchalantly replied, 'Nah it's shit round here!'
I finally got my co host back on Tuesday and I went along to the airport with my boss to pick her up as a surprise. I also arranged for our friend working in another resort to meet us at the airport and come and stay for a few days so it was a very exciting reunion, made even more exciting by the fact that A bought presents. I got a packed lunch box.
We've had a pretty boring couple of weeks with guests. Nothing particularly bad, just nobody exciting. My highlight from last week was made by our 9 year old guest named Tom. Tom was a lovely kid, very helpful and always hanging out in the kitchen keeping us entertained.
On the last day of the week before Tom and his family left, myself and A were quizzing him about his time here, asking if he was gonna go out for a beer that night, maybe meet some girls. Our friend Fred asked him if he had met many nice girls during the week to which he nonchalantly replied, 'Nah it's shit round here!'
Sunday, 30 January 2011
The day that A went away... (and a brief perv update)
Firstly a quick perv update...
I would like to extend my comments about last weeks guests further and add that JTP (Josh the Perv) was not helped by the fact that A led him on a fair bit. At one point he was helping A with the dishes and asked her whether this would earn him some digestivs after the meal. A's response was to whisper to him 'You'll need to do more than that to earn some after dinner treats' and then wink before loading the dishwasher...provocatively.
Another thing I noticed about staring Stanley was the way that he was somehow ALWAYS listening. A and I would be having a conversation, nothing to do with the guests and every now and then his voice would just answer a question, I didn't even know where it was coming from half the time. On Thursday morning A was sitting by the kitchen door eating a yoghurt and couldn't finish it, she asked me if I would like the rest...before I even had time to answer her JTP's hand slowly extended through the door and plucked the yoghurt from her hand.
I will definitely not miss JTP and his starey ways...but in a weird way I think A really will.
This is going to be a strange week. Unfortunately A got some sad news recently and has to go home for a few days to visit family. I am slowly starting to realise quite how much she does around the chalet... before leaving she left a list of things for me to remember.Things that I am very likely to forget such as 'lock door when leaving', 'turn oven off when finished cooking' and 'flush loo after use'.
Hopefully the list will help me through until she returns on Tuesday but I will give you a mid week update to let you know how I get on.
I just went and did the online shopping for the first time...I am about 100 Euros over budget...guess I better log back in and take off those crab legs and pork roasting joints I orderered for the staff barbeque.
I would like to extend my comments about last weeks guests further and add that JTP (Josh the Perv) was not helped by the fact that A led him on a fair bit. At one point he was helping A with the dishes and asked her whether this would earn him some digestivs after the meal. A's response was to whisper to him 'You'll need to do more than that to earn some after dinner treats' and then wink before loading the dishwasher...provocatively.
Another thing I noticed about staring Stanley was the way that he was somehow ALWAYS listening. A and I would be having a conversation, nothing to do with the guests and every now and then his voice would just answer a question, I didn't even know where it was coming from half the time. On Thursday morning A was sitting by the kitchen door eating a yoghurt and couldn't finish it, she asked me if I would like the rest...before I even had time to answer her JTP's hand slowly extended through the door and plucked the yoghurt from her hand.
I will definitely not miss JTP and his starey ways...but in a weird way I think A really will.
This is going to be a strange week. Unfortunately A got some sad news recently and has to go home for a few days to visit family. I am slowly starting to realise quite how much she does around the chalet... before leaving she left a list of things for me to remember.Things that I am very likely to forget such as 'lock door when leaving', 'turn oven off when finished cooking' and 'flush loo after use'.
Hopefully the list will help me through until she returns on Tuesday but I will give you a mid week update to let you know how I get on.
I just went and did the online shopping for the first time...I am about 100 Euros over budget...guess I better log back in and take off those crab legs and pork roasting joints I orderered for the staff barbeque.
Friday, 28 January 2011
Best of the Guests and the Return of the Perv...
Sab was gone, I was happy. I didn't realise how much it had affected my week until I finally waved him out of the door. The whole week was a bit of a downer. At one point the guests had asked if one friend from another resort could come and stay the night. As Sab had a spare bed in his room we agreed so long as the visitor didn't bother the other guests. The morning of the arrival we were told he was here... 6 snow boarders came bounding through the door, raiding our fridges, eating twix bars and doing big poos and using all the toilet paper. A went crazy and kicked them out the door, you go girl!
So I was badly wanting a change in vibe and it came with our new set of guests. They were wonderful. Helped with everything. Came out in the evenings and made sure we got absolutely smashed without spending anything. It made us both feel so much better and we had an all round amazing week. By the end it was very sad to see them go and we would have both been happy to have them for another week. A tip just short of 100 euros each made their departure slightly more bareable.
This weeks guests are nice. Not quite up there with the week before but pleasant enough. I'm getting quite a lot of amusement though as we have another perv, and thankfully this time he isn't after me. He seems to have developed a bit of a warm gooey soft spot for my lovely co host. At least I think he has. It's either that or he wants to kill her.
During dinner preparation yesterday I came into the chalet just after A to find her standing in the kitchen chopping some mushrooms with about 6 guests seated in a semi circle around her looking at her like she was putting on a 'Punch and Judy' show. The pervy one was helpfully sitting on our bin, following A, longingly. Each time I needed to throw something away I had to pick him up and pop him on the fridge for a second, but he didn't notice, he was too deeply involved with his stare.
Yesterday A was telling him that she really wants a lesson. His response was to stare deep into her eyes for 17 seconds breathing heavily before saying 'Come up the mountain with me, I'll throw you down something hard.' Now, I've seen this guy ski, and I'm pretty sure he isn't a qualified instructor so I'm not quite sure what he was offering with this. I'll let you come to your own conclusion on that one.
I'm hoping that I won't have to find out if his stare is a loving one or a murderous one.
So I was badly wanting a change in vibe and it came with our new set of guests. They were wonderful. Helped with everything. Came out in the evenings and made sure we got absolutely smashed without spending anything. It made us both feel so much better and we had an all round amazing week. By the end it was very sad to see them go and we would have both been happy to have them for another week. A tip just short of 100 euros each made their departure slightly more bareable.
This weeks guests are nice. Not quite up there with the week before but pleasant enough. I'm getting quite a lot of amusement though as we have another perv, and thankfully this time he isn't after me. He seems to have developed a bit of a warm gooey soft spot for my lovely co host. At least I think he has. It's either that or he wants to kill her.
During dinner preparation yesterday I came into the chalet just after A to find her standing in the kitchen chopping some mushrooms with about 6 guests seated in a semi circle around her looking at her like she was putting on a 'Punch and Judy' show. The pervy one was helpfully sitting on our bin, following A, longingly. Each time I needed to throw something away I had to pick him up and pop him on the fridge for a second, but he didn't notice, he was too deeply involved with his stare.
Yesterday A was telling him that she really wants a lesson. His response was to stare deep into her eyes for 17 seconds breathing heavily before saying 'Come up the mountain with me, I'll throw you down something hard.' Now, I've seen this guy ski, and I'm pretty sure he isn't a qualified instructor so I'm not quite sure what he was offering with this. I'll let you come to your own conclusion on that one.
I'm hoping that I won't have to find out if his stare is a loving one or a murderous one.
Seb/Sab
The week after Patrick the Perv left was a mixed bag. We had a chalet of 5 policemen and women and a 5 year old girl and a group of 7 young lads and ladettes, the 2 groups didn't mix especially well. One good thing was that the 5 year old was desperate to help us out with anything she possibly could so we pretty much didn't have to serve or collect a single plate the whole week.
Unfortunately the week was made slightly less favourable by one particular guest, an Australian by the name of Seb. He was one of the lads, 19 years old his name was actually Sab, but everyone prounounced it Seb. That annoyed me for starters.
The group were blessed in that on the first night we had our first snow fall since Christmas. This was a little too much to take for young Sab who ran outside, bumping into beams and walls as he went and started throwing snowballs at anything that moved. Myself and A had been up since 5am and were sitting in deck chairs having our after work, wind down cigarette. Sab approached us with a look of malice in his eyes balling snow. 'Don't even bother, we're not playing', A warned. He then proceeded to throw one at A and one at me from a range of about a foot.
'This is War.' he shouted.
Now, I don't know about anyone else but in this situation, I am pretty sure it was down to A and myself to decide whether or not this was war. This was Sab's first strike. The next came the following night...
It didn't help that during service he would just bang a wine caraffe on the table and shout my name until I filled it. I was already feeling quite anti Sab at this point. After work that evening a group of us all piled into my flat for some drinks and a bit of a social. I was having a lovely time until I turned to my left and there, in my bedroom, my personal space, away from work, was Sab, sucking on a cigarette and ashing on the floor. Not happy.
The final straw came on Wednesday morning, mine and every other member of staffs day off. The only possible opportunity for a lie in the whole week. This particular Wednesday however I was awoken by a thick Australian accent at 9am shouting 'KYLE, KYLE' (my roommates name), 'KYLE, LET'S GO RIDING'. He had come down to my flat and walked into our space without a care in the world. Kyle, also not at all happy with the situation had apparently drunkenly agreed to go out with him the next day.
As I prayed for him not to enter my room, Kyle managed to get rid of him by rambling drunkenly in Welsh for a while. I now firmly lock the door every night before bed.
The next day, in a quiet revenge attempt, I stole a pair of his socks, ha, take that Sab.
Unfortunately the week was made slightly less favourable by one particular guest, an Australian by the name of Seb. He was one of the lads, 19 years old his name was actually Sab, but everyone prounounced it Seb. That annoyed me for starters.
The group were blessed in that on the first night we had our first snow fall since Christmas. This was a little too much to take for young Sab who ran outside, bumping into beams and walls as he went and started throwing snowballs at anything that moved. Myself and A had been up since 5am and were sitting in deck chairs having our after work, wind down cigarette. Sab approached us with a look of malice in his eyes balling snow. 'Don't even bother, we're not playing', A warned. He then proceeded to throw one at A and one at me from a range of about a foot.
'This is War.' he shouted.
Now, I don't know about anyone else but in this situation, I am pretty sure it was down to A and myself to decide whether or not this was war. This was Sab's first strike. The next came the following night...
It didn't help that during service he would just bang a wine caraffe on the table and shout my name until I filled it. I was already feeling quite anti Sab at this point. After work that evening a group of us all piled into my flat for some drinks and a bit of a social. I was having a lovely time until I turned to my left and there, in my bedroom, my personal space, away from work, was Sab, sucking on a cigarette and ashing on the floor. Not happy.
The final straw came on Wednesday morning, mine and every other member of staffs day off. The only possible opportunity for a lie in the whole week. This particular Wednesday however I was awoken by a thick Australian accent at 9am shouting 'KYLE, KYLE' (my roommates name), 'KYLE, LET'S GO RIDING'. He had come down to my flat and walked into our space without a care in the world. Kyle, also not at all happy with the situation had apparently drunkenly agreed to go out with him the next day.
As I prayed for him not to enter my room, Kyle managed to get rid of him by rambling drunkenly in Welsh for a while. I now firmly lock the door every night before bed.
The next day, in a quiet revenge attempt, I stole a pair of his socks, ha, take that Sab.
Saturday, 8 January 2011
Real News
C’est moi, A.
J keeps grumbling that I’m neglecting the blog, but the truth is I’m intimidated by his ‘hilarious’ anecdotes about Gregor and pervy Patrick.
I’m going to deliver an informative, factual account of recent events instead, and not even attempt to be funny.
J and I are getting into the swing of things with regards to work life, we are getting in for dinner service at 6pm and usually out by 9pm, which is a vast improvement on our previous 5-10:30pm timing. Morning service is still pretty slow going, in at 7:30 and out at 10:30/11ish.
We argue ALL the time whilst working, over really stupid things like who gets to eat the last leftover canapé. I called J selfish last night and we didn’t speak for the last 2 hours of service. He is very greedy though, whilst sitting on a chairlift he often pulls something from his pocket that he’s stolen from the chalet, and as I have taken responsibility for the weekly shop/budget control (much to the amusement of my colleagues who think I fancy the finance guy. I don’t) this annoys me a lot.
Luckily our guests seem to find the bickering amusing, I suspect they don’t realise we are being serious. We were interrupted in the middle of a massive argument (over a sandwich) the other day by our guest who told us we were a comedy act.
Fortunately the minute we leave the chalet the tension disapparates (is that a real word? Or a harry potter word?) and if things are particularly bad I stick on a bit of Marvin Gaye, and pour J a glass of port (which he’s developed so much of a liking for that we’ve had to replace the ‘Duck in a dark port sauce’ with ‘Duck a l’orange’ for several weeks running now.)
Last night we all went to an open mic night and J sang quite a few tunes, much to everyone’s amusement. It was a good night, which was a relief, as last time we went out J managed to get in a fight. Everyone tried to break it up except for the Essex Girl who actively encouraged it.
My lovely flatmate took a tumble down some steps and broke her foot though, which was very sad to see. Third injury among staff this week – I am definitely buying a helmet, I have started venturing into the snowparks and attempting little kickers so I would be an idiot to not get one I guess. Hopefully tips this week will pay for it, but I’m not optimistic as our guests this week are new to chalet-holidays and probably don’t realise its customary to tip the host. We have made a small fortune in babysitting and sandwich-making over the last few weeks though!
Anyway, this is bare long, I need to go rescue tonights dinner from the finance guys sink, and then go have a nap, theres been no snow since Christmas Day and its pretty icy out there, the bottom of my skis are all scratched up and need a bit of TLC before I take them out again.
Love Love Love to all!
ps: I'm back to italics as apparently my lack of continuity in font choice was irritating one reader... seriously Colbeck, get a hobby. x
Patrick the Perv
It is nice to use someone's name when addressing them. It makes your encounter more personal. But there is such thing as over using a name. This is the problem I have had with one of my guests this week.
It was nice at first, I'd get in for morning service and be greeted with 'Good Morning J...going out for a ski today J?' Then in the evening it would be 'Hello A, nice day A? What's for dinner J?'. But after a while I begin to feel like my name loses meaning.
I had a strange moment with the same guest last night. The conversation went like this...
P: Evening J, loved the cake today J.
J: Oh you mean the flapjacks? Glad you enjoyed them.
P: They were lovely J. Nice and sticky, just how I like it J.
* DRAMATIC PAUSE *
P: Do you like it like that J?
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO SAY TO THAT!??!
I was on the verge of telling him that last week they came out 'too hard' but thought this wouldn't be the wisest response so in the end I just told him that last week my flapjack resembled a brick and so I took them out early this time. I then proceeded to slowly turn my back and pretend to wash an already clean saucepan.
It was nice at first, I'd get in for morning service and be greeted with 'Good Morning J...going out for a ski today J?' Then in the evening it would be 'Hello A, nice day A? What's for dinner J?'. But after a while I begin to feel like my name loses meaning.
I had a strange moment with the same guest last night. The conversation went like this...
P: Evening J, loved the cake today J.
J: Oh you mean the flapjacks? Glad you enjoyed them.
P: They were lovely J. Nice and sticky, just how I like it J.
* DRAMATIC PAUSE *
P: Do you like it like that J?
WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO SAY TO THAT!??!
I was on the verge of telling him that last week they came out 'too hard' but thought this wouldn't be the wisest response so in the end I just told him that last week my flapjack resembled a brick and so I took them out early this time. I then proceeded to slowly turn my back and pretend to wash an already clean saucepan.
Thursday, 6 January 2011
The Chronicles of Gregor
Happy New Year from the alps! We are now halfway through our third group of guests. Things are going very well except for last week, A decided that she didn't really like 3 of the guests (a sweet 8 year old girl, a middle aged friendly teacher and a lone travelling cross country skiier named Bob) and therefore just didn't bother cooking them a dessert...out of hatred. I then had to take them aside and break the horrible news to them. All but one of them cried and Bob told us he had been looking forward to Panna Cotta all week long, none of these people left us a tip.
It has been a very eventful time here so I will focus on one particular event of the last couple of weeks to tell you about. A colleague of ours, named Jay funnily enough, stole our chalet phone a couple of days after christmas. I don't know why he decided to do something so mean, he muttered something about christmas blues and not recieving the tractor set he asked for, whatever.
Anyway he decided to go on a massive off piste run with our phone in his unzipped pocket, bad idea, an hour later he came and told us that our phone was halfway up the mountain in a treacherous rocky off piste area and we were never going to see it again. These phones cost 200 Euros to replace so nobody was particularly happy about the situation.
The next afternoon, quite a few of our colleagues recieved a mysterious phonecall from our lost phone. The man on the other end was a thick accented Slovakian named Gregor. As Jay was the one that caused all this trouble we decided it was best that he deals with Gregor.
The next 2 days saw Jay spending a lot of time on the phone to our Slovakian friend trying to organise a meeting place where he could go and retrieve the lost phone. During this time Jay learned a lot about Gregor and a budding friendship developed. It turns out Gregor is a piste basher who works all over the French alps. His wife left him for a bouncer at Dicks Tea Bar and his choice of headwear is a fez, 'like a camel'.
So Jay finally managed to arrange a meeting time and place with Greg, he was to meet him at midnight at the South Eastern side of the white christmas tree in Mottaret centre and if he was lucky, Greg was going to take him for a ride on his piste basher. Jay stayed in for the evening waited patiently for Gregor's call, all the while getting more and more excited for his ride on the piste basher. He called round all of our colleagues and told them the exciting news. It was the talk of the resort... At half past 11, Jay recieved a heart breaking phonecall. Greg couldn't make it, there had been an avalanche in Courcheval and he had to go and do some emergency bashing.
A heartbroken Jay went to bed with the promise of a phonecall from Gregor in the morning. The phonecall came and another meeting was arranged. This time Jay was to meet Gregor outside a bar in town. Jay was already going to be at this bar with all 30 of our colleagues for our staff christmas dinner so it was perfect.
4 pm arrived and Jay stood outside, wearing his reindeer antlers (Gregor asked for him to wear something recognisable) looking for a burly Eastern European man wearing a fez (like a camel). A phonecall from Gregor arrived...it was at this point that I headed outside to greet Jay, the lost phone attached to my ear, putting on my most convincing Slovakian accent, apologizing to a red faced Jay for not wearing my fez.
Turns out it isn't that difficult to find a lost mobile phone off piste.
It has been a very eventful time here so I will focus on one particular event of the last couple of weeks to tell you about. A colleague of ours, named Jay funnily enough, stole our chalet phone a couple of days after christmas. I don't know why he decided to do something so mean, he muttered something about christmas blues and not recieving the tractor set he asked for, whatever.
Anyway he decided to go on a massive off piste run with our phone in his unzipped pocket, bad idea, an hour later he came and told us that our phone was halfway up the mountain in a treacherous rocky off piste area and we were never going to see it again. These phones cost 200 Euros to replace so nobody was particularly happy about the situation.
The next afternoon, quite a few of our colleagues recieved a mysterious phonecall from our lost phone. The man on the other end was a thick accented Slovakian named Gregor. As Jay was the one that caused all this trouble we decided it was best that he deals with Gregor.
The next 2 days saw Jay spending a lot of time on the phone to our Slovakian friend trying to organise a meeting place where he could go and retrieve the lost phone. During this time Jay learned a lot about Gregor and a budding friendship developed. It turns out Gregor is a piste basher who works all over the French alps. His wife left him for a bouncer at Dicks Tea Bar and his choice of headwear is a fez, 'like a camel'.
So Jay finally managed to arrange a meeting time and place with Greg, he was to meet him at midnight at the South Eastern side of the white christmas tree in Mottaret centre and if he was lucky, Greg was going to take him for a ride on his piste basher. Jay stayed in for the evening waited patiently for Gregor's call, all the while getting more and more excited for his ride on the piste basher. He called round all of our colleagues and told them the exciting news. It was the talk of the resort... At half past 11, Jay recieved a heart breaking phonecall. Greg couldn't make it, there had been an avalanche in Courcheval and he had to go and do some emergency bashing.
A heartbroken Jay went to bed with the promise of a phonecall from Gregor in the morning. The phonecall came and another meeting was arranged. This time Jay was to meet Gregor outside a bar in town. Jay was already going to be at this bar with all 30 of our colleagues for our staff christmas dinner so it was perfect.
4 pm arrived and Jay stood outside, wearing his reindeer antlers (Gregor asked for him to wear something recognisable) looking for a burly Eastern European man wearing a fez (like a camel). A phonecall from Gregor arrived...it was at this point that I headed outside to greet Jay, the lost phone attached to my ear, putting on my most convincing Slovakian accent, apologizing to a red faced Jay for not wearing my fez.
Turns out it isn't that difficult to find a lost mobile phone off piste.
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