9 January 2003
Happy New Year
So comes the year 2003. And with it my first report. I've been out
here since November 19th, training, hosting training, two weeks
of guests and it's been a total bun fight. I could easily fill this
report with tales of what has happened to me during my first week
of Hotel Manager, but I think that no one would believe me anyway.
New Years Eve 2002/2003
We started in Le Basement Bar at the Auberge Hotel, closed down
last year because we wrecked it after making it our staff common
room; it was opened as a one-off so we could enjoy a staff bonding
party before hitting the slopes for the impending party. Prior to
this, Tom (Manager of the Auberge and 'daddy' of Shot Club) and
myself had spent all day in Moutiers buying in copious amounts of
booze to concoct a deadly punch.
Looking like a "bloody cup of cold tea" as Trevor (chef) pointed out, it was enough to warm us up to brave the croissettee for the bash of the year. Like the year before, we danced, we drank, we froze our asses off but it was a fantastic beginning to 2003. There was the DJ box, fireworks, mulled wine and the best part, the countdown and I can't remember hardly any of the pictures I took (disappointingly there were no "who the hell is he" camera shots).
The next day I hobbled around on my day-in (rest of the staff enjoyed their day off), served breakfast on my own to 74 people, with a bruised elbow and head which happened as a result of a 'pile on' on the slopes, generally feeling sorry for myself but at the same time, loving the fact that at home in England, whilst we were all dancing like mad things in the snow, people were trudging around in the rain, trying to get into packed, overpriced bars.
Summer V's Winter
I spend my summer repping in Greece and it was enough to convince
me that as far as seasons go, you can't beat winter. Transfer day
is an absolute doddle compared to standing around in an airport
in 40 degree heat for anything up to eight hours greeting surly
budget 'guests' who expected me to a) build them extensions or verandas
to their apartments, b) control the weather/mosquitos/greek drivers,
c) be held personally responsible for every commission grabbing
booking rep in the world and d) be on holiday with them.
Add to that any request to the property owners for a light bulb/fresh towel/ room clean was always met with the standard reply "I do this next year", it made for a summer of discontent. Up here in the mountains is where its best for me, you have the snow, the nightlife and most importantly, like-minded people. Courchevelication!
The Snow
Its been better than last year, and at the time of writing this
its been dumping down for two days. Ski-ing is great up top, and
as I had my first proper day out since I broke my leg two years
ago -I could have skied on mud and still be grinning from ear to
ear. We've had about a couple of metres up top, in resort its piled
up on the windscreens and window ledges and the trees look pretty
again.
Until next time
Pimps, porn stars and Prostitutes nights is being held in the bars
Gringos, TJ's and Isba, a fantastic evening last year (not less
for analysing peoples costumes and finding out their secret desires)
no doubt kitchens will be raided again for bin bags and tin foil
for those all important whips, cuffs and gimp outfits. One good
thing about the stress I've been having is that I've lost enough
weight to shoehorn myself into my pvc trousers for the evening.
So, if you're out here and you see a worried looking girl, with
the startings of a nervous tick dressed as Miss Whiplash, to convince
herself she is actually in control, come say Hi.
Enjoy the Snow!
Report from Simone Down -
Natives Resort Reporter in Courchevel
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