It has finally arrived. The end of my first ever winter season. The end of my first ever job as a chef and my first ever stab at chalet hosting. I can’t thank all the people on my season enough for the opportunities and the support you showed me.
Mum and Dad, as always, were there every step along the way. I now know they were laughing about my serious inability to cut up six peppers without complaining about it.
Guy, for the phone calls that made me realise how stupid (but also how fabulous) I can be.
Gabs, my shoulder to cry on, my partner in crime, a royal pain in my ass, cake queen and annoyingly beautiful best friend. There were times I’m sure we both could have killed each other, but for all those difficult times we stuck it out without any fights and I am truly thankful to have lived through this with you.
Beth, because I’ve not managed to fit you in to the stories so far. Thank you, for the daily updates on your sex life, bowel movements and for wearing socks that changed colour with how much sweat was between your toes. You fucking legend.
Pash, Claire and Lucie, each only with us for a short time. Rest in peace… just kidding. I cried every time one of you left us in Andorra. It was a bloody pleasure to share some wonderful moments with you girls.
90% of our guests. Just because without you, I wouldn’t have had a job. Thank you for being lenient on my cooking.
Lastly, Ben, for the opportunity to learn how to cook, clean toilets, make beds, fix light switches, dig paths in waist deep snow and snowboard. I sincerely hope it all stands me in good stead and that we eventually did you proud.
The last one and a half weeks fizzled to an end unspectacularly. I finally managed to get some apres in on Wednesday afternoon after boarding to Pas AND BACK AGAIN without any disasters or delays. For the first time all season.
Our last guests left on Sunday 5th April 2015 and we cranked up the music to new levels of loud. We smashed out the clean down of the chalet that day. My arms ached and burned after coming into contact with way too much caustic soda… but everything was pristine.
I then had three days to holiday in Andorra. On Monday I boarded. Then I had a beautiful dinner at a small tapas restaurant in Soldeu with a few friends. On Tuesday I spent a vast portion of my money on Tax Free clothing in La Vella in preparation for my next big trip to more expensive parts of the world.
And on Wednesday I caught my bus to Barcelona Airport.
Words could not describe the mix of emotions that I had. I missed Gabs already, but I couldn’t wait to see my Mum and Dad. I hated that I was now unemployed, but I loved that tomorrow I didn’t need to wake up to serve plastic cheese. I was excited to start my next big adventure, but I was devastated that my last one was actually over.
I couldn’t believe it was over.
I walked into the airport with one snowboard more than I came with and my suitcase. I was finally going home. Four months had seemed so long.
I checked the board for my flight details… and it didn’t register straight away, but all UK bound flights were cancelled.
Wait… I’m not going home. Shit.