Duthie's Diaries: Down and Out in Brides Les Bains

Don't expect any riding news in this post. Here's why.

After many, many delays, and a draft-erasing laptop malfunction, here's the latest from Brides les Bains. Mostly on my mind since the last update: work.

In countries all over the world it is possible to find people who will endure long hours, cramped accomodation, simpleton bosses/underlings [delete as appropriate] and extortionate booze prices for the opportunity to ride in the mountains. The lengths people will go to for snowboarding has always been one of the things that justifies classification as more than just a sport. Blood, sweat, tears, privacies, dignities and a healthy sleep pattern are all sacrificed every season in exchange for shred time, and most of those who've done it would say it's a fair trade. After more than three weeks of denial about our cash flow situation, Kyla and I rolled up our sleeves and got grafting. For a bit....

A few days after Christmas, we got a call from a hotel in the town. They'd been forced to make a couple of sackings, and wanted us to help out over their busy New Year period. It couldn't have come too soon: our money was running low, and the conditions had gone from bad to worse. Rather than ride in the rain up in Meribel, we were happy to rack up some hours down in Brides. While Kyla turned over rooms, I joined the surreal shambles that was the hotel kitchen. As well as myself, the kitchen staff consisted of: an acting head chef (a locally-based Kiwi who'd agreed to do a few shifts); one of the hotel assistants, roped into cooking; the kitchen porter, effectively promoted to sous chef while i took his place at the plongeur; and the one remaining commis chef, lone survivor of the Christmas dismissals.

Kyla brings the New Year cheer, 1st January 2010

What followed was a whirlwind of improvisation, estimation and perspiration. The successes (surely some of the best 'throw it all in' soup ever made) were balanced out by a few failures (customers sending back mouldy chocolate mousse), but all in all the clientele were kept happy. There was time to snatch a couple of hours up the hill in the afternoon between shifts and, with the exception of a truly pisspoor New Year's Day, the weather was improving. The new chefs arrived midway through and soon had things working well, especially as things got quieter post-New Year. The regular staff were back on top of things, and we were let go. Again, the timing was perfect. Our friends Hamish and Nicola had arrived for their two-month stint, and we were keen to spend some time with them; a fresh dump had fallen all the way down to Brides; and in only eleven days of 10-hour shifts I'd very nearly recouped the cost of my season pass.

From now on I'll be getting one or two shifts a week to help with the busy times, which should cover food expenses while I get the rest of the time to ride. All in all, I couldn't ask for a better situation. Hopefully it'll last....

For obvious reasons, the next post should have a bit more shredding stories than this one, as well as tales of Meribel excursions, DeathWish and a whole lot more. Til then....