Please keep your skiing tips to yourself…

It’s been a wonderful few days in Morzine, the snow has arrived and wow, it’s dumping most evenings.  I cannot explain the excitement of waking most mornings to fresh snow, it’s similar to being a child on Christmas morning, except Christmas has been coming most days.  The whole atmosphere has changed too, everyone is happy and the toasties bar is heaving.  There’s something very therapeutic about food preparation, the key being you get to make something people then consume and tell you is amazing.  I guess I feel validated and my decision to open this hut was a good one.

In fact, the only thing that has taken the edge off of these perfect conditions are British “know it all” skiers.  These are the skiers who are self-appointed ski instructors and probably have fewer snow hours logged than my adopted dog, Pablo.  If Lindsey Vonn suggested a technique change then, of course, I would listen but a dumb Brit, please keep your ideas to yourself.  There’s nothing more annoying than a self-appointed ski instructor and you know they cannot be a local because ESF (the real ski instructors) would have put a rocket up their ass.  They take the edge off of the day and are normally wrong to boot.  They make a mountain more dangerous and should ideally be banned from the slopes.  Sadly, that will have to remain my little fantasy and I’ll just have to plug in my iPod and listen to my music as I whizz past them and their ill-fated ski lessons.

The season is fast drawing to a close and I can barely believe how quickly this experience has flown by.  It’s had its ups and downs but overall it’s been a positive thing to have done and when I head back to the UK.

An idea that simply makes sense…

If like me, you are fed up of trying to read a soggy piste map then this is your answer.  I have dye-sub printed the Piste Map onto high-quality goggles cleaning cloth (it also works for glasses)  These maps are designed to easily fit in your pocket and will not run or smudge due to the printing technology, you can use them time and time again.  Simply dry it out on the radiator and you’ll be good to go.

This map is for the Roc d’Enfer ski plateau, other areas are available upon request.  If you have any questions or to order yours – click here.

I made it…

With March beginning, the world seems a lot better.  The school children and their unbearable parents have vacated the slopes and life’s returning to normal.  It’s amazing how the town changes once February comes to an end.  There’s a sense of optimism March brings, snow is falling thick and fast most nights, making the skiing phenomenal.  The world always feels better after an off-piste run through fresh powder.

For me, money has got a little easier with the toastie bar becoming established and now most mornings, there’s a queue.  Phew.  The success of the toastie bar has helped banish the work daemons I had from my old life.  I feel better knowing I’m a functioning member of society, making a valued contribution.  I’m now feeling happier and for the first time in eighteen months, I have savings!

February Blues?

The reality of life in a ski resort has begun to set in, the initial novelty of seeing snow from your bedroom window has now worn a little thin. Tiredness, exhaustion and poverty are the reality of life in a ski resort. I know I am luckier than most my bills are low, and I’ve recently found an additional job working for a foreign exchange company.

My supplementary income means I’m no longer relying on toastie bar tips to pay for the luxuries. The downside of living in a holiday resort are the inflated prices, nine euro beers and twenty euro pizzas are difficult to manage.   Saving money for my next trip seemed impossible as almost all of my money I earned was needed to support my modest lifestyle.

One week I had eleven pence in my account after bills and was not looking forward to a week of pasta and pesto from the store cupboard. I remember finding a ten euro note on the floor and felt as if I had won the lottery, this was how tight things got.

My story of depravity is a minor one, “boy nearly has to eat pasta from the cupboard for a whole week”, others were not so lucky, credit cards hitting limits and living on stale croissants and leftovers.

Most seasonaires have tales of February woes.  February goes from bad to worse once the school holidays begin.  The slopes become busy and the ability to escape and enjoy the mountain become harder.  Ironically, I need a quiet mountain and a chance to race down a piste. The opportunity to cut loose, forget all of my problems and live in the moment.  Filling my friends Facebook feeds with snow selfies, but alas that will have to wait.

Half term hell…

The downside of living in a holiday resort are the school holidays. Winter half-term brings every Rupert, Sky, Oscar and Hubert to the region. It’s the parents I detest the most, their spoilt little brats are simply a result of their upbringing. The parents dressed top to toe in designer ski wear, proving that their credit card has a higher limit than their ability.

I find their ridiculous rhetoric hilarious, one mother this week so far has managed to insult three of my friends with her attitude, needless to say, her morning half-shot soy cappuccino contains one part semen. She decided to tell her child “if you don’t work hard at school, you’ll have to work in a menial job like these people.” I guess to her we were the equivalent of an Indian untouchable. I find it funny that another human being considers themselves far better because of capitalism. As a small business owner, a Cambridge graduate and someone who’s met Prince Charles, I can tell you, they’re credit cretins. A credit cretin relies massively on rising house prices and the lines of credit this provides, financing their life of perpetual debt. They then use this “wealth” to impress others and validate their social standing.

Ironically they probably have less genuine disposable income than most of the people they insult. Personally, I think they are scared of us, we’ve let go of the financial norm and now spend our days free and our nights are not spent worrying about the size of our bonuses. The best line so far, you have no idea how little a £1,000,000 bonus buys these days. Wow, thank goodness I don’t have this problem. Imagine the pressure it puts on you and your family, if you lose your job, you’ll lose your status, house and potentially friends. Money is a tool, use it carefully to carve out a future but never forget, it’s only a shovel and not a solution.

Netflix and Chill, the alpine alternatives…

So I recently got down with the kids and now understand what the phrase “Netflix and Chill” actually means. Sadly half way up a French mountain, my internet connection is so bad that Netflix is a distant dream. It was only last August my hamlet got a second-hand 3G mobile mast installed, 4G is a distant dream as is a connection of more than 1MBPS.

For me, the alpine alternative is Log fires, hot cocoa, and marshmallows, I admit, I’m getting a bit older and in the spirit of “the kids” it’s probably more likely to be Jager-bombs and table dancing. Two issues as far as I can see with this, one Jagermeister makes me feel worse than death the next morning and secondly, my table top dancing days are behind me. Unless I decide to resurrect my alter-ego but that involves tape in all sorts of awkward places. 😉

I think the plus side of getting older is you care less about what other people think of you. I’m now at the stage in my life that I no longer require copious amounts of alcohol to feel confident and I’m finally happy and coming to terms with getting older. The mountains mean different things to different people and no one’s experience is wrong.

Going home made me homesick.

Road view of the back of the toastie hut.

A few months into my Alp adventure the reality of being away from home is setting in.  I was lucky and had to pop back to the UK to finalise some accounts and got to see my friends and family.  It was a real privilege to escape for a few days and catch up with life in London.  Catching up with old friends is always fun but this time, something was different.  I was different.  I quickly realised I had grown distant from this life, worrying about the latest mobile phone or shiny new cars.  I worried, if I used to be the same, I probably was.  A car is a status symbol, a way of showing off, a person’s postcode determined their worth and value.  Previously, I would have become annoyed or worse still, joined in.  It is sad people are written off for such silly reasons and then surprised when people lie about these matters to fit in.  It’s saddening.  Worse still, my so-called friends, now sneer down their nose at me.  It’s funny how people change around you as they feel your social standing changes, the truth is we are all the same, citizens of the world, living in first world countries, with first world problems.

 

If I see these people again, and undoubtedly I will, I will suggest a whip, taking the issues of personal finances off the table.  Thinking about it, they probably have less money left at the end of the month than me, servicing debt on cars and homes they can ill-afford.

Front of the toastie hut.

Is this London now?  Scraping by, ensuring everyone knows if you have climbed a step on the social ladder and getting drunk to excuse your obnoxious behaviour.  If this is the case, then I am very pleased to have left it behind.

Now I am back in the Alps, cooking toasties, writing and selling FX.  Ok, I am never going to be a millionaire living here but I do now have my sanity.  Yes, I have bad days but at least, I’m no longer on the hamster wheel.  I have broken free from the cycle of despair and restored my mental health.

Brits on the Piste…

Today you’re just as likely to see university students trying to build a topless human pyramid as following the fall line on a black run. The “Valley Rally” as it’s known, has become a chance for university students to party on the mountain. Silly costumes and alcohol-related antics go hand in hand with skiing and have done so for many years now. But this new breed of student is taking it to a whole new level.

I for one, am not objecting.  A twenty-three-year-old girl deciding to go topless with her friends is fine by me, and unlike the Malaysian authorities, I don’t believe it causes earthquakes.  I do worry about their safety, though, they are in an inhospitable environment, poorly equipped and inebriated.  Sadly hypothermia or worse is a real risk for these kids.  I watch as they head off with people vastly soberer and more mature than themselves for a night of probably one-sided lust.

My advice (for what it is worth) is simple, firstly remember to wear a coat you are on a mountain.  Secondly, stick with your friends and make sure you keep each other safe.

If you’re heading off piste with your kids, hire a guide.

Ski guides have gone through a rigorous training process to ensure they know what to do if things go wrong. Guides (or leaders) live in the region and are incredibly capable skiers, first aiders and survival experts. Sadly I see parents deciding to skip the guides and lead their children into the wilderness.

I find it amusing that someone with a few days of local knowledge and only a few tips found via a search engine decides to take their children off-piste. Using a search engine for life-saving advice without having any experience would be foolish. However, this is happening every school holiday throughout the Alps. Heading out into avalanche zones, with a transceiver but often without a shovel.

It’s these skiers that upset me the most, literally they are saying “please save us, but we won’t save you”.  I find this annoying to say the least, I am lucky and have never had to dig someone out after an avalanche but always carry a shovel and probe when heading off-piste.  I read a worrying statistic if you are not rescued within fifteen minutes then your chance of survival drops by eighty percent.

In short if heading off-piste, especially if you’re responsible for others.  Learn how to use a transceiver, probe and shovel or better still hire an experienced guide.

Silence is golden?

It wasn’t that long ago the only music you would hear on the slopes was the music coming from a radio by the cable car or the background noise from a fellow skiers ear-buds.  Sadly the mountains are becoming infested with noise.  Industrial grade speakers playing DJ sets or bands blasting their take on music to the masses.  I know by this point, you’re probably thinking I’m must be a complete party pooper.  The type of person who spends their evenings in bed reading rather than dancing to the latest pop sensation.  In some ways this is true, I do love apres-ski but believe it shouldn’t kick off until the last lift has stopped.  I come to ski, to escape all of my problems, a chance to be at one with nature, not to bounce along to Tine Tempah.  I do appreciate the works of Mr Tempah but when I’m trying to clear my head, the theme song from Match of The Day is not a lot of help.

Today, I would like the mountains divided, those seeking music turn right and for those looking for a higher purpose, it’s left.  Ski and mountain retreats, a chance to meditate, succumb to the pleasures of fresh powder and be at one with nature.  The right can have the ice, the golden snow and as much music as you need to make your ear drums bleed.  I know where, I will be and so do you if you want to join me.