Hair of the Ski

Work, ski and sleep… that’s all we seem to do in Les Menuires.

Work, ski and party… that’s all we seem to do in La Plagne.

Three guesses which resort I prefer living in…

So yes, three weeks in La Plagne at the middle of the season was just what the doctor ordered.  As expected, and as promised, the final week there (last week) was a messy affair indeed.

All of us had pretty awesome guests who absolutely blitzed through the chalet wine- and encouraged us to do the same.

I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a day when something hysterical didn’t happen- when I wasn’t doubled over with laughter, when there wasn’t a drink in my hand.

And there was only one day I didn’t force myself to man up and get out skiing, no matter how destroyed I felt. You party, you ski. That’s a season.

And below is an average week. I’ll let the pictures do most of the talking…


Well Saturday is always rubbish because we spend all day cooking and cleaning and cracking open leftover beers to ease the pain of it all. The day began at 5:30am and ended about 10pm. Nuff said.

Guests all seem pretty sweet though! Bring on the week!


An awesome day. Smashed through breaky, out the door by 9am.

We hit the slopes, we ski all day.

I even saw some huskies!

In the evening I serve dinner at 7pm… then stay for ‘one’ glass of wine…

Several hours later, Kate comes over and gets involved.

10:30… mad dash from my chalet to my apartment to get changed and catch the bus into town

Regrettably, I leave my camera in my chalet and as such there remains no photographic evidence of this epic night out.

But it went a little like this…

11pm… we’re in a club dancing to Nelly The Elephant… and yet the DJ does not have ‘sexy and you know it’… what’s the world come to?

12pm… You exchange 4 Euros for the world’s smallest portion of chips from the world’s grumpiest fast food man.

1am… You get the bus to 1800 and find yourself in a seasonaire party at La Mine

2am… some guys have invited you back for a sauna party…

3am… You’re in a Ski World chalet with Kate and said guys… this chalet comes with a host and you waste no time rating her work…

Glasses on the table… ‘Ugh, cleaning standards are clearly low with SkiWorld’

Tins in the fridge… ‘Mate, she’s literally gunna give you all botulism!’

Meat on the top shelf… ‘Geez, did she even DO a food hygiene course?!’

Cake on the side… ‘ugh, this tastes crusty’

Crumbs on the floor… ‘Your chalet host clearly doesn’t DO sweeping’

Mess on the sides… ‘This is just not to Ski France standards!’

Poor girl. We did tell them they still had to tip her though! See, as vicious as it got, we’ve all got each others backs in this mad world of chalet girling…

3:30am… you end up in the sauna with some questionable looking guys, one who lets his man boobs flop out while you sit there fully clothed, in hysterics.

But there are disco lights and a radio. And more chalet wine. And endless banter.

4am… You steal one of their beds with Kate and force them to sleep on the sofa. It’s not happening mate, sorry.

6:30am… You sneak out. On your way out you notice that one of the guys is asleep in the sauna with the disco lights still on. More laughter. Not entirely sure the night went as the boys planned, but Kate and I haven’t laughed so hard for that many hours in a long time!


7:30am… I get in from said night out. I somehow get breakfast on the table for 8…

8:30: The sink blocks. The kitchen floods. The hangover kicks in.

I slightly lose the will to live.

Paula comes over for moral support to take pictures of the mess and pose with several food products

10:30am: I eventually make it out of the chalet. I sleep all day. What a wimp.

9pm: A few beers are all we can manage tonight, and its an early one for us all.


Feeling fresh and fine, I smash through breakfast and the day is mine by 9am.

After a brief chill out we ski for most of the day.

Well, kinda.

During our beer break, I realise I have goggle marks. Not cool.

Paula sunbathes.

The boys take to the air bag.

We all have a few cheeky attempts at the snow park.

Later, after I’ve served dinner, I take my hosting skills to a whole new level by getting fully involved in chalet wine games…

which were OBVIOUSLY the guests’ idea… and I obviously HAD to get stuck in for fear they might write a complaint to head office about me not giving them a great holiday…

We aim to make our guests happy at Ski France, so I took one for the company and got on my knees.

Paula comes to join in the fun

We head out

We dance pretty much all night

Somehow I miss a lift to Bell Plagne and head home with Kate to eat the contents of her fridge

Meanwhile, the others party on… with my camera… oh yeah…

A classy night all round.


This is our day off, and we’re all feeling the night before…

But yet we ski.

Briefly. Then we decide there is nothing for it but to get fully involved again.

The après began like this…

It got like this…

Then this…

Then it ended like this…

I did think long and hard about whether to share these photos… but then I just realised…. I value hilarity and comedic value more than dignity…

This is probably why I’m single. It’s brilliant!

And I had to consider that people might be inspired… you know, ‘life is for living’ and all that.

Honestly, we laughed so hard as we flew down the piste semi naked in the dark… dark except my luminous white baps descending like piste-basher headlights…

And they say youth is wasted on the young. Pfft.


Wednesday’s hectic après action had us all done in by 9pm- a mad time AND a full night’s sleep, yeah!

Turns out this full night’s sleep would be needed, as the usual was in order: work, ski, get intimate with the chalet wine.

Which led inevitably to some ‘tomorrow-will-be-interesting’ time with my guests…

For whatever reason, it seems the camera remained firmly in my bag. Shame, that.


Friday was an interesting day.

I crawled back into my chalet a mere two hours after I had left it. Naturally, my guests ripped me to shreds for such devoted hosting.

Surprise surprise, the sink decided to block again. Why oh why does it always do this when I’ve had no sleep and drank my body weight in cheap wine??

But I manned up, and instead of crawling back to bed, I went sunbathing with Kate and Paula at the Glacier.

There’s no better tan than one gained at 3000m.

And the view up there is immense.

Nature wank, we call it.

But more importantly, Friday was Kate’s last day :(

This is Kate

She’s really really cool. Way cooler than me. And hilarious. And she’s NICE. I’m just too blunt and mean to ever be that nice. She’s also super fun, and we have many a ridiculous giggle.

Could I really crawl back into bed and miss one last ski with such a partner in crime? No.

So Friday was also about embracing those last minute cheesy photo opportunities.

And on two hours sleep and a crippling urge to vom, I still had a blast on the slopes. Sweeeet!

I also briefly met up with my guests for a ski, who embarrassingly kicked my ass! Naaaahhhh, customer service is all about making your guests feel special, so I went slow on purpose… Riiiiggghhhht.

Then it was straight back to work! But that’s okay, because I love my job, and, last week, I loved my guests.

One dinner party later, I finally got that much needed sleep…


…Not much though, as I was back in the kitchen at 6am and seeing my guests safely onto their coach at 7am.

Goodbyes are never easy, and this one was a hug-a-thon. It kinda resembled this, which did make me smile…

Then I spent all morning shifting their leftover beers back to my apartment cleaning the chalet and moving everything out of it.

Apparently no one else will put up with not having a dishwasher, so, as I was leaving resort, Ski France was outta there. Nice, since when did I become such a pushover?

And then it was back to Les Menuires.

And back to my ‘permanent’ chalet. I went a little OCD and blitzed all the bulging cupboards.

Team: If any of you are missing cleaning products, I think they’re in Bouquetin…

Hoarding much? Geez.

But I have more to say about Les Menuires than bemoan excess surface sprays.

Because this week, it’s been family time!

Yeah, my dad and brother have come out to play!

I’ve thoroughly enjoyed nearly killing my father by taking him up La Masse and down the icy red’s of death. Initial anger at the summit naturally dissolved into ‘im glad you made me do that’ at the bottom.

Told you you could do it Dad!

Just try and stop doing snow plough… and try to stop skiing like you’ve pooed yourself…

Otherwise though, im pretty impressed at their acceptance of my putting them through their skiing paces.

And its been super fun showing folks from home around what has become my new home.

How can you not love sharing this with loved ones?

To be honest, they are also not the fastest skiers, which for me has meant lots of time out at the edge of the piste as I wait for them to catch up.

Which I’ve enjoyed. My friends and I often get so caught up in racing each other around the slopes that its not often I unclip… and just… LOOK.

This week has been just what I needed. Some re-hab from the madness of La Plagne, and some showing off my new home, and my new skills, to my family. Parfait.

However, even my Dad commented on how boring Les Menuires is.

‘We went for a walk last night. Not much nightlife, not much to see or do, is there? What do you all do..?!’

We go to Val Thorens to party. Or, you escape to another resort.

So now im fully recovered and wont have any relations to show off to next week, im pretty excited to get out of Menuires and back to La Plagne this Saturday.

A week back here in my isolated Prestige chalet, with middle aged guests, doing five courses and lots more work for no extra money, in a quiet and spread out resort, where I’ve skied all the runs too many times, driving a bright yellow death trap instead of walking across the road, living with two people instead of in close proximity to almost ten, not being able to pop next door and check out each other’s hot guests… has all pretty much confirmed that Menuire is not for me.

Especially when the La Plagne crew rang me today with hilarious stories of yesterday’s messy après session.

Punter love, Jagerbomb injuries, and still partying in goggles and ski boots at 2am? Where was I?!

When I pack tonight, I’m taking everything.

I’m planning on La Plagne.

And im planning on Paula not having drunk all those Desperados that Jade’s guests left behind last week…

Watch this space.


  1. Face-planting paradise: 5 ways to NOT suck at life (and kiting) - If you wanna go, just go - November 18, 2014

    […] He had to come rescue me. Cringe. (But not nearly as cringe as the time I had to call my OTHER manager and explain that I had just woken up somewhere unknown in resort, I had no idea where I was, and so would most likely be late for work. Late, and still drunk, and in last nights clothes. Yes, these were classy days.) […]

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