Week Two- Room-ys, rumours and a Tactical Chunder.

This week has been like exhaling after seeing how long you can hold a breath. It's been the week where we're getting into our routine after the madness of start up week. We all know we’ve got jobs that need doing but everyone has been a lot more relaxed about getting them done.

We kind of had guests this week, but not really. We had two big groups of tour operators turn up to stay and ‘work’ for a few days. They spent their days either skiing or seeing other hotels so they can sell them to clients. They gave me more experience in the bar which has been good, I’m quite enjoying the buzz of things getting busy now rather feeling that rising sense of panic and drowning out of my depth that I had last week. I suppose experience is building my confidence up more. I had my first experience of changing a barrel too, I only got sprayed in the face for a few seconds before realising you have to turn the gas off first... Rookie mistakes but you have to do them I suppose.

Everyone is getting to know each other more here now. You can tell that because there’s the odd bit of bitching and back-biting creeping in. The hotel manager, Jonny told people to cool it in the weekly staff meeting (so I’m told, I was working in the bar at the time). Which makes sense as this is a really small hotel and any division could be really disruptive.

A few of people have paired off already, it seems the KPs (Kitchen Porters) and Nannies are right for each other this year. I met my girlfriend Cath while I was a KP in Courchevel last year. It must be something about the hopeless mundanity of washing dishes and peeling onions that makes you reach out for someone.

Speaking of which, I had some good news a few days ago. I spoke to Cath earlier on this week and she wasn’t having that much fun at home (basically because she was in a kind of limbo between backpacking and coming out here) so I had a chat with Jonny and asked him to prod head office to see if they could get her out here in some way. Thankfully, the laundry girl at the Hotel Val D’Isere (just down the road) got some kind of cold she couldn’t shake off and decided to go home so Cath gets here this afternoon!

Apart from that, I’ve not been up to much this week. It hardly snowed and it’s been really windy so the conditions are really rubbish up on the mountain. I’ve been up a couple of times but I keep ending up on my arse because the slopes are too icy.

On the right are some pics of where I’m living at the moment. We live below the hotel in shared dorm type rooms. I’m sharing with two chefs, Rio and Chewie (as in Chewbacca.) Rio farts like a trumpet all night and Chewie makes these strange sleep-grunts, and wookie growls at random intervals. He also sleeps on the floor as he didn’t get on with being in the top bunk. The mature thing to do would be for me or Rio to go in the top bunk, but as it turns out, neither of us are that mature. It’s worked out good for me though as I get use the top bunk as shelf space!

There's also a pic of the guest’s restaurant and our staff canteen and staff room out the back. There’s a DVD player in the staff room and we’re talking about all chipping in for a playstation2. It’s cosy but it’s ours and not the guests, and that’s what counts.

Opposite us we’ve got a downhill ski slope which you might catch on ski Sunday or Eurosport this week as they’re doing some kind of competition. We’ve also got the ‘Funival’ lift which is a train at a 45 degree angle that disappears into the bottom of the mountain and then pops out at the top about 5 minutes later which is pretty cool.

I suppose the only other interesting personal story this week is that I had to perform a TC (Tactical Chunder) for the first time in absolutely ages. I had one of those, I’m-not-going-out-tonight-oh-OK-just-one moments and foolishly chose to drink Mutzig. Which is a 6.9% lager that goes down way too easily. A couple of Mutzigs, a Red Erik (red beer), a few hours of vodka and a shot of Sambuca and I had an odd tingling sensation in my stomach signalling an oncoming bout of chunky hallelujah. Obviously cleaned out and re-booted I carried on drinking and saw out the night. Good old binge drinking, it's just like riding a bike.

The other cool story I heard this week was by a Geordie guy who came into the bar who’d hurt his leg. Apparently he slipped at the top of an icy black run before he’d got a chance to put his snowboard on. He flew spinning down the icy slope, and unable to stop, tried to grab a piste marker which snapped, spun him round and sliced a load of the skin off the back of his calf to behind his knee. He said he could hear all the French medics cutting away his thermals and salopettes going ‘Euurrghhh’ so he turned his head and saw a bunch of muscle and tendons. ‘I was reet lucky like, when ar think arbout it. Could’er bin me ed or any’rin.’ He said.

I'm not looking forward to next week so much. I have to start doing my 'floater' duties. I wasn't employed as a bar-man, but a bar-floater. It basically means it's written into my job description that I can 'float' into whatever job needs doing but there isn't staff available for. I think I'm down to be doing chalet work (tidying rooms/laundry) as well as working 6 out of 7 nights in the bar. Whoop-de-doo.

Come on snow! DUMP ON DOWN! Make picking up other people's pants worthwhile..!

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