Well, training is done. It's over and the three valleys await us! Except, the lifts all opened early thanks to good snowfall but we haven't got our lift passes yet! So there we are with our sledges with faces like we've been slapped with a wet fish looking enviously at the beautiful carving turns being made by the locals.
Not that envious actually as it's raining here. Like, proper rain. -15 in the night to not being cold enough for snow in the day made conditions look pretty shit too. That's what we'll tell ourselves anyway, especially as bloody England is being caked in the white stuff right now!
As for training, it's been tough. My beautifully well rested body is not used to 6am wake up calls everyday. Not to mention we then work through until dinner in the evening doing all the shitty jobs you'd expect...mostly to do with shovelling the hell out of some snow, counting stock and making toilet rolls look glamorous!
In fairness though the trainings been good, we feel ready to be let loose and feel confident to cover up all the cock ups we're bound to make.
But one of us did 'crack'. And that's the reason for egg-gate. First tears of the season went to miss chalet couple and it was the stocktake that broke her. Dividing boxes of 180 and 360 units of eggs into decimal points to ensure you don't fuck the stocktake up and have enough food for the following week sounds easier than it is. In a small stock room with 3 blokes shouting mathematics at her was enough for her to throw the 'fuck this shit' towel in, walk out and find the nearest female for morale support and gentle guidance through the process. We powered on and just got it done. And still fucked it up leaving us with bucket loads of tomatoes, potatoes, carrots and pretty much everything else on the list ready to be unused and rotting away for the next week.
Second egg drama came on our precious day off. Clearly when people work 6 days a week they're going to get royally pooted on the night off. And pooted we did.
The amount of beer consumed would have impressed a small brewery and that was only after copious amounts of whiskey, gin and vodka had been consumed. Some vodka was kindly 'donated' from the previous years staff too and that always helps, especially when it's belvedere vodka. Ker-Ching!
Anyway, come 3am and there were eggs being thrown in all directions. No casualties but plenty of smashed glass. And a guy walking with no socks on screaming 'you can't cut me!!'. And cut him it did not, although the alcohol did consume all his senses and he continued to pass out in various positions around the chalet, yet return miraculously each time like some kind of resurrected drinking Jesus.
And then the wasted 20 eggs used in the filling of the profiteroles. That fell on a day when miss chalet couple was kitchen bound alone.
They were a fucking disaster by all staff cooking that day. That's 20 eggs per batch. Multiple chalet couples trying at least 3 batches and still fucking it up. That's like 300 eggs so there's some poor chicken out there popping these out for literally Sweet f.a. You know they're shit when the boss openly describes them all as inedible too. If you like chewy mini pancakes then do it the way we did first time and you'll be pleased.
Anyway, that's our training week. Hard work but good times. Oh, and for future reference cold mountain air cures all hangovers so get out there and suck some of that egg-citing shit in!!