Duthie's Diaries: GET.... OUT.... OF MY..... VILLAGE!!!!

Another post, another venture into shambolic rant territory. Apologies...

Astrology. High School Musical. Anyone who orders a steak "very well done". These are the things that, even if I mellow with age, I will doubtlessly hate forever. Expect my Room 101 to be filled with adolescent douchebags singing about the alignment of heavenly bodies, stopping only to hack at a blackened, shrivelled hunk of cow.

You'd also come across sights such as this:

down the stairs, past the nightclub, almost back to the river. Not a good sign...

It's been a bad week. 35 minutes of queueing (added to the half-hour spent on the gondola), just to get to a Meribel that resembles the Normandy landings, is guaranteed to bring out my inner misanthrope. Unless you're prepared to wait til midday for your runs, this is what Brides Les Bains has to offer during school holidays. The last seven days passed by in a blur of long lines, scraped pistes and a mobbed park. Far, far too slowly....

There was, however, one place to find relief: when snow cover allows, there's a route all the way down to Les Allues, a tiny hamlet between Brides and Meribel, which serves as a mid-station for the gondola. It's a run that is almost always closed, but never unrideable, and always enjoyable. The narrow path takes you through trees, over rivers and past ruined farmhouses, and offers some of the valley's best scenery. Occasionally a decades-old piste-marker will appear, providing the only reassurance that this is indeed a legitimate run and not just a one-way trip into the middle of nowhere. It's a rare thing to see another soul on the way (even when the run is open), making it the perfect antidote to the congestion further up the hill, as well as a great way to skip two-thirds of the gondola down.

sweet relief off the beaten path

The influx of holidaymakers, infuriating as it was, did offer one potential consolation. With great crowds come even greater piles of dishes that aren't going to wash themselves, and I was due for some shifts. However, the hotel management chose that week to halt all cash-in-hand work, and so the hours have dried up. This may have been for the best, though, given what happened next. After the manager hadn't been seen in a while, the rest of the staff had to search for him. His door was kicked in to reveal that he had up and left in the night, taking a cool five grand from the safe with him. Interpol are now on the case, but as no-one has a copy of his passport (or even assurance that the name he gave is his real name), it looks like he might have got away scot free. Sadly, none of this affected hotel policy, and so it's time to find some more gainful employment.

Other than that, not much else to report. The Olympic half-pipe was worth staying up for, both as a great event, and as reassurance that we're not the only resort having unseasonably warm weather. It's pissing down in Brides as I write. Given the temperature, it's likely to be doing the same in Meribel. Happy days....

Duthie