Thursday, 13 December 2012

BEADS SKIS! Week One: I live in a box and I might die

'Here's your accommodation - it's cosy!'
Cosy is a word I use for when I'm on the sofa curled up in a ball reading some trashy magazine about some trashy celeb I know nothing about whilst the fire's blazing and I have a blanket and a fat cushion. Cosy is not a teeny one room apartment that combines the kitchen/diner/bedroom adjoined with a shoebox double-bunk room attached to a bathroom that is potentially bigger than bunk room.
There are 4 of us sharing and I am lucky enough to have the bottom bunk in the shoebox room. As I laid down for the first time I stared into the eyes of a young Scandinavian-looking boy as his passport photo stared back at me - a previous seasonnaire had stuck it upon the bed panels last season. Fitty! He's our lucky mascot.

Our apartment is located across one of the main pistes which means sprinting down an indluating hill to get to work - though this also means trying to get up it after you've gone out for a few beers. Difficult.

Our induction consisted of being warned that we may die, mostly. Not whilst hosting- when skiing. We are now very avalanche aware.

Cleaning is hard work. By the third day of cleaning I think that I will die from inhaling polish or Anti-Cal - the 50% bleach cleaner. Plus there's so much wooden furtniture that we are practically doing lines of polish. EeeeEEeee!

The drinks are extortionate and food is too.

We have been practicing our cooking for the past couple of days and that has been a lovely break from dust and grime and duvets. I baked a batch of flapjacks and a carrot cake - at altitude - which basically means you disregard the recipe and add hell loads of oil and butter and stuff and stir until the consistency seems OK, whack it in the oven and pray for the best. Doing this, by the way, alone and in an empty chalet, against the clock. Praying works! Oh, but carrying it a mile back to the office through a -19 blizzards with it wrapped in a tea towel is quite hard. My mascapone topping was squished and slimy but the cake beneath was delish. SO PROUD OF MASELF.

My nails and knuckles are split and I have a splinter.
Danish boys are creepy and whisper creepy Danish stuff in your ear when you're trying to enjoy a Baileys.
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