Well well well. Welly welly welly. Wellity wellity wellity. What a week.
It's been somewhere between brilliant and an absolute living nightmare. Which is particularly apt, because of the general lack of sleep. However, we think (and hope) we may have turned the metaphorical corner.
If you've never made a full Christmas dinner before (turkey, pigs in blankets, cauliflower cheese, roast potatoes, sprouts with lardons, vichy carrots, turkey gravy, stuffing - all from scratch) then starting with 16 paying guests can be a tricky start. Especially when combined with an oven that's approximately 1/3 of the size you require, and a general need to serve wine, cook, clean and direct people. However, all went well (wild glossing over of general stress and things not going to plan) and people were happy and full of food (true).
The last week has had its highs and lows. Doing a 35 hour week in two days a possible low point, receiving general approbation from our guests for the service provided in the first week a probable high point. Also, a good few hours of snowboarding fun kept spirits sufficiently high, and made everything feel worthwhile.
The Vanoise Express, which
spans the valley between the Les Arcs and La Plagne skiing areas opened
on Saturday, and it travels infrequently across the balcony vista. It's
an impressive double-decker supportless cable car with flashy lights on
to deter planes. We will use our full Paradiski pass to get across to La Plagne soon hopefully. This is a picture of the cables disappearing into the mist, which itself comes and goes ('cause it's literally clouds), and one of the "cars" themselves.
In general, uninteresting news, my back mostly hurts on the right side through constant "wash on, wash off" cleaning motions, and my hands are all kinds of dry and useless. It's also super easy to gain a series of burns on your forearms from the oven/wood fire. I am a excellent firestarter now however, arguably twisted. Despite having a constant and seemingly unending supply of booze, the lack of time (or inclination) to drink any has made my capacity for consuming alcohol shockingly low - the smallest dram of anything and I'm ready for bed.
As per usual I had lots of exciting information to put across, but have failed to remember any of it after a pizza and two (count them) beers.
A little about snowboarding: the snow has dissipated a little over the last few days and, after last Wednesday's powder fest, this day off was considerable slower, more icy and mogul-y. The view from the lift this early afternoon, as there's no chance we're getting up early on our only day off, was thus:
There was still plenty of high-speed hijinks, with lots of hilarious mogul work. Unfortunately there were far too many people about, and they're all idiots. There were actual queues for the lifts, where the only rule is to be as inconsiderate and clumsy as possible.
I can't really think of much else to say at this stage. The amount of work we do every day is a bit frightening, especially considering the number of actual tasks we complete. It's a bit overwhelming thinking about it. You take one task at a time and try to get things done as quickly as possible so you can get some sleep and do it all again. However, currently promising ourselves a less worky Summer. The place is still gorgeous, and we're trying to speak more French. We took the lady in the bread shop some brownies on Christmas day: she was very happy!
Still glad we're here. We've not done as much reading, relaxing, sending postcards or seeing the local area as we'd initially hoped but it is beautiful, and rest is for the weak. Here's a picture of the evening view as we went out for dinner and a drink.
Well we've been working with actual guests for about 4 days and it's the hardest job ever. Reduced sleep and practically no time to ourselves. However, when you do get a day off (such as today) it's absolutely awesome. Been smashing down some amazing pistes, been doing some minor off-piste skirmishing and generally having a whale of a time. Follow that up with pizza and a beer: living the dream. Also the work, though slightly endless, back-breaking and mundane, is done in a wonderful setting. Nothing like shovelling snow to wake you up with panoramic views of the valley.
Anyway, as time is so precious at the moment, I'll leave you with a view from the hot-tub (which is a partial nightmare in itself).
Bonjour!
I am now living all in France as a seasonnaire. I've meant to blog on many occasions previous to this, but unfortunately have been working my rear off since we arrived in Geneva some two weeks ago. Also, since that time, I have learnt a huge number of things.
Shortly we will be taking residence in lovely Peisey-Vallandry, which is in the resort of Les Arcs, with a maginificent view of the Vanoise Express cable car (to La Plagne). We have a tiny "studio" in the eves of an amazing chalet, which has the smallest bath I've ever seen. I cannot wait to get in there and start hosting dinner parties/cleaning/welcoming people. The lace "curtains" on the bathroom windows have cows on them!
When we arrived a fortnight ago, there was very little snow at all. About two days later, the sky kicked out about a metre overnight. Since then it's snowed practically every day. We've been sledging and, yesterday, actual snowboarding in the Les Menuires/Saint Martin area. It was awesome. Glad to get my snow legs back so quickly. The picture above gives you some idea of the current state of the Les Menuires resort (which is our temporary location). I especially enjoy snowboarding across the road bridge. Maintain speed!
There are a number of things I've done and/or discovered during training. These are:
1. Moved approximately 10 metric tons of snow from one arbitary place to another.
2. Eaten bacon sandwiches almost every day.
3. Made chocolate mousse for eight people.
4. Learnt that jacuzzis are the most complicated thing in the world, and that there are no standard instructions, parts or end to the number of things that can go wrong with them.
5. Got bruised everywhere and acquired two magnificent lumps on my head from seperate incidents.
6. Driven on snowy roads.
7. Unfurled, attached, checked, removed and re-furled a snow-chain in 53 seconds.
8. Enjoyed a day off more than ever before (it did involve 4 hours of snowboarding, loads of sleep and one beer).
9. Met a brilliant Welsh guy who, whilst driving, calls the van "love" and utilises the phrase "fuck me running."
10. Enjoyed the company of a large group of really cool people who all seem to be lovely in a diverse set of ways.
11. Fixed all kinds of electrical appliances (dishwashers, jacuzzis, lights) without any formal training.
12. Received formal training in food safety.
13. Went briefly "off-piste" before wallowing in a snow pit of my own creation.
14. Pushed a man pushing a Christmas tree through half a metre of snow, up a 45 degree incline.
15. Eaten a 3 course meal practically every night for a week. Recently that has increased to 5 courses, in line with the requirements of my employment. Fortunately snow-shovelling (every day I'm shovelling) has precluded the threatened ballooning of my waistline.
16. Cleaning shower screens is one of the most soul-destroying jobs created by man for lesser man.
17. Life in the Alps is awesome!
There are shed-loads of other things, but I can't really remember anything at the moment.
Can't wait to get going on the actual chalet running, even though Christmas is imminent and slightly frightening. Anyway, I hope to update this fairly often, but who knows how that will go. I leave you with a picture from our first day snowboarding. A bientot.
Having been around the world, a trip to London (and back) was the opportunity to continue the pointless task of visiting every British city. Three more on the way, and two on the way back.
(#44) Sheffield
I like Sheffield. The centre's pretty well kept with a stately city hall and various redeveloped bits. It's not difficult to wander into less impressive areas but, on the whole, it's not too bad. The cathedral's good, with the general area only slightly spoiled by the tram lines. Loads of fountains around, unsubtle references to the the city's steel-intensive past and olifactory joy created by pillboxes of flowers from the railway station, past parts of the University to the centre. Having been out of the (city-acquiring) game for a while, I felt a little exhilaration at being in a "new" city, knocking it from the increasingly-stubborn list. However this frisson of joy was quickly dampened by the inevitable rain which persisted whenever I stepped outside, and that area around the bus station. Urgh. High points include the winter garden and the adjoining museum.
(#45) Derby
The sun shone as I prepared to leave Sheffield to take the train to Derby. However, any happiness this may have brought dissappated with the realisation that I'd left my sunglasses somewhere in the previous 48 hours. Having travelled around the world without leaving them anywhere, I'd managed to misplace them on a short trip in the UK, where rain and gloom dominated. This general feeling of disappointment was exacerbated when, arriving at Derby, I was asked for my train ticket which I had inevitably booked for the wrong day. I therefore had to pay an extra £18 for my ticket (in addition to the amount already paid online). Hooray! The conductor/guard chap then said "these things come in threes" and that I should "buy a lottery ticket." I'm not sure how inviting further bad fortune would help, possibly by simply compounding the financial misfortunes of the day (and completing the necessary "triple") at a mere further £1 loss. Actually, it soon became obvious that Derby was the third bad thing to happen.
The cathedral area, with nearby Silk Mill was not too bad, but everything else kinda was. Just not the sort of place you'd like to spend any amount of time. The central Civic centre was 1970s concrete and dark glass utilitarianism, although it did have a beer festival in, so pros and cons. The route to the city centre from the train station led through a huge generic shopping centre, a weird housing estate, behind some pubs and along a cycle route. It wasn't great. The people of Derby seemed to be those with a sufficient lack of taste to bother living there. If you could call that living. Derby, and it's inhabitants, probably weren't as bad as I've suggested, but I was thoroughly underwhelmed.
(#46) Nottingham
I left Derby having got drenched in a sudden downpour and went to Nottingham. This was a brand new experience for me, and I was pleasantly surprised by its size and character. It's not the classiest place in the world, and some of the buildings are horrible, but I had no strong urges to kill everyone to death. The castle looked pretty good, although I was concerned that the legend of Robin Hood was treated more like historical fact than fanciful myth. Also, Sherwood Forest is quite a long way from Nottingham (now at least). Also, wasn't Nottingham the bad guy? Anyway, there is a clear blurring of the line between fiction and reality, allowing unsuspecting tourist to easily fill their minds with absolute nonsense. But that's ok, they're probably American anyway.
It was actually warm in the afternoon and I sat for a short while in the large square. The long period of travelling/unemployment I was enjoying at this time meant that street hawkers (charity persons, market researchers, those concerned with government grants for insulation, etc) don't bother me, recognising that I am persona non grata. Woo homelessness/unemployment! I liked Nottingham, not to the extent I'd colloquially exclaim "brrrrup brrrrrup," but sufficiently.
(#47) Lichfield
After Nottingham I visited friends in London, and mused a while on my life as an itinerant. Travelling around the UK in this manner is somewhat pointless, with no real lessons learnt or particular enjoyment..... enjoyed. Regardless of this fact I visited another couple of cities on the journey back to Manchester. Having successfully negotiated rush-hour trains from South London, used the inexplicably free toilet at shiny St Pancras station, and appropriated some moisturiser samples at Euston station, I boarded the train to Lichfield (which could be pronounced litchfield, likefield, or lickfield for all I know/care). This was part of a master plan to visit two new cities along one train line, having started in London and finishing in Manchester. Excitement and expediency, as I'm sure you can imagine.
Lichfield was/is lovely. It's full of lovely historical buildings, a bustling marketplace and an Aldi. Definitely one of the best cities so far. Compact, manageable, and with most of the detritous kept outside the middle. There's a large newish theatre, which doesn't seem to be in the way, and lots of cool-looking olde worlde pubs. I liked the memorial garden next to the river, and the whole cathedral area. I think I could live there. I had to walk about a mile from Lichfield Trent Valley railway station, but that was fine; a good introduction if anything. I know these snapshots aren't actually very informative, and pretty similar in construction, but that's whistlestop (probably rather accurate) tours with little planning for you. The main thing is that Lichfield is worth a visit. It's got a Wetherspoons, so you can drink cheap beer, but also nice pubs, and places to sit out too. There's a McDonalds, but then again, there always will be. Dr Johnson lived there, and there's a (possibly free) museum to his life/work. Facts are definitely less interesting than I'd hoped. The people seem alright. Also it's not Derby.
(#48) Stoke-on-Trent
Bit of a weird one, Stoke. It's made up of lots of small, and generally pretty grim parts. There are probably four "city centres" to speak of and I spent a good while walking between them. Hanley is perhaps the main city centre, as it's arguably the largest. From the train station I walked past some of Staffordshire University, a big park and lots of disappointment until I got to Hanley. It was genuinely dire. Large low quality shopping centre amongst functional buildings. Painfully joyless.
Leaving Hanley before the urge to self-harm overwhelmed me, I endeavoured to find the nice part of Stoke-on-Trent. I walked to Newcastle-under-Lyne past derelict areas, out of town shopping warehouses and plenty of, difficult to negotiate, roundabouts. I felt that Stoke was a bit like Birmingham: dominated by infrastructure and ugliness. Newcastle was slightly better than Hanley, but still a shame. On the way back to the station I went through actual Stoke (awful). There were good parks dotted around in the Stoke-on-Trent conurbation, but otherwise mostly horrible. Nebulous, confusing "central" areas linked up by big horrible roads. It was sunny that day too, which just goes to prove that good weather cannot improve impressions of a place too significantly.
