These are tweets from my second week as a chalet chef girl.
Looking back… I’m gunna say I was in a lot of pain.
Conditions on the mountain were pretty poor. The nursery slope was made of ice and every time I fell like the sack of shit that I am, I cursed the day I chose to pack light and not bring impact shorts. I twisted my foot in ways I never thought were possible and I really was feeling the burn.
Not only was it physical pain, but our second week of guests were a severe slap to the chops for Gabs and I. We felt like actual slaves.
Every single demand was as painful as grating your nails along with the block of cheese but we bent over backwards nevertheless. Hoping and praying that it would be enough to keep our good feedback running.
No matter what we did though, the forms came back and a lot of ‘poor’ boxes were ticked. In fact, I would go as far as saying gouged… like they really meant for it to hurt us. I spent our team meeting that week sobbing my heart out until we all came to the conclusion that everyone in the world is a fuck head (apart from you guys that have stayed in the chalet and are actually friends of mine on facebook. You are not fuck heads… yet.)
New Year was exceptionally good for most of us. Pash really seemed to enjoy the view of the toilet bowl in the men’s after a great number of varied shots… the majority being Slippery Nipples and Te-Kill-Her.
We had a countdown twice to New Year as we’re an hour ahead of English time and since almost everyone is a British tourist it just seemed necessary. The first countdown I remember completely… the second not so much.
I’m pretty sure that it was New Year’s Eve that I got absolutely smashed, spent three hours getting lost between Soldeu and El Tarter, and arrived home ten minutes before my shift started. I fell asleep on the sofa for approximately thirty seconds before Gabs woke me up and made me throw eggs all over my kitchen floor.
Twenty three full English breakfasts were cooked that day. It was an achievement in life that SHOULD be acceptable on a CV but probably isn’t.
The day after New Year’s Day Gabs and I ventured down to Llop Gris for the biggest plate of burger I have ever seen and to discuss lady matters over the wrong cups of tea.
And then I spent the afternoon cutting onions up in my boarding goggles.