Gnarly

Dropping hammers on the green run (thats a good thing)

Sick (also a good thing)

Too gnarly for my own good

When Marge and Pete were out, I swear they were like the paparazzi! I couldn't even do the green run without nearly bashing into these media hounds! Anyway, man I look gnarly.

Scotty's Night Out...back on the sauce

You wanna joina mya pola cluba?!

New Will, the damage from having a safety pin in his ear finally started to show

Mr Tex Mex, a role model for all Scotty's employees

Will Chalet getting his groove on (and being checked out by guy behind him)

R to L; Chris the guvnor, Incompetent Female I, Incompetent Female II, Random

I swear he took the shine off the pole he was on it so long

Booze, my long lost friend, it has been too long

The powers that be decided that the Scottys crew needed a 'moral boosting' mission, in the form of a booze up. Considering all the changes that had been going on recently it was only going to go one of 2 ways, either we would all get on like an alcohol induced house on fire, or we would all end up fighting, like we pretty much do all the time. Add to that the fact that this was the first time I had been back on the sauce in a week and I was still in a bit of of hazy antibiotic blur, it was going to be interesting. We made the daring trek up to Belle Plagne, which involved not 1 but 2 forms of transport, we're talking extreme adventure here, to 'le Bowling' (another Will Chalet brainchild that we ended up doing purely to please him, I must remind you that he is only 23 years old). Suprisingly le bowling turned out to be quite fun, although our true competiveness did start to show, this was offset by the comedy of New Will, who was already pretty hammered, and everytime he threw the ball it would be met with elaborate falling over in an attempt to perfect his 'technique', and Hannah showed us that simply dropping the bowling ball from quite a height is a winning formula. It did get a bit ugly however when Will started willing us all to lose, and of course in the end we had to let him win. Then it was on to the Cheyenne Cafe, a Tex Mex right at home in the middle of the alps...hmm. Well the service at the start was a tad like Scottys, when we walked in we were met with the usual 'oh god not more customers' look, the bar was covered in dirty glasses, a lack of understanding (or desire to understand) between client and waiter, and everyone that worked there had a pretty surly look on their faces. We were right at home. Fortunately the food was absolutely delicious and we all had a combo of fajitas and steak, although unwittingly we walked into a 'faj' related landmine, where the lads abused the fact that the 'faj' tasted good, and kept making 'faj' related jokes all night, mature as ever guys! Despite how much effort the waiter tried to look as pissed off as he could all night (Mr Scotty would be proud), he did crack a wee smile when he came out armed with some filth in a bottle and we all had a shot with him. I was left speechless for a good 10 minutes due to the level of rankness of said shot, and then, as you do, we made it our mission to see how quickly we could get kicked out of a bar. 3 SECONDS IN THE MATAFAN RESTAURANT PEOPLE! That has to be some record, but I think New Will sealed the deal when he sauntered in there with his own drink, good work. We then went on to possibly the thinnest bar in the entire world, 1 deep at the bar and you were in trouble, where Ben and Mikko's (of Scottys band fame) Dads were playing, which was cool and slightly weird that there are in fact other songs besides what Ben and Mikko/Rehab/Queens of Leon play, shocker! After that it was on to Saloon, one of the last remaining clubs in la Plagne (Blue Night couldn't be bothered to play their electricity so Aime 2000 is officially dead) where we pretty much partied for about 4 hours. Carolita went home, New Will did a runner as soon as they asked for his coat, Stu went off with some Crystal lads, so it was left to the incompetent females, Chris and Will (who passed out in the corner sucking his thumb) to amuse ourselves in a pole dancing fiasco and try to avoid the masses of sleazy men who didn't seem too fussed about your gender or sexual orientation (NB: As we have already established, Saloon = Glorified gay bar). So tonight we discovered that, shock horror, there is life outside Plagne Centre, and more shockingly, Scotty's!

Randomness

Paul from Scotty's is now back from his 6 weeks at home following the savage assassination attempt by Rob and hopefully he will sort out the new guy Will in Scottys, who is, in fact, the most annoying person I have ever met. For a bonus he has a safety pin in his ear.

Grounded at 1970m

Plagne Centre is erm, ok, not the most exciting 'town' in the world, and amazingly I have managed to mangle myself so that I can't even leave the village. It all started out when I woke up and couldn't move my neck. I don't have a clue how I managed it but believe me I was in a world of pain. Before I knew it I had blinding ear ache until bingo..I couldn't hear out of my left ear. Go Kat, only she could achieve such a feat of human stupidity. After braving 2 shifts at work where pretty much every customer told me to 'cheer up' even though I couldn't even hear what the hell they were saying as the stupid ear syndrome took hold, I marched on down to the medical centre. From the many cripples at Mark Warner I was pretty certain the docs were fluent in English, so I explained en francais (bien sur) that I didn't know how to describe the symptoms, so I went on in English about the problems instead. It was met with blank looks. Not a word. After prodding me a bit, I think he must have thought palming me off with an ear infection was what I wanted to hear, and so prescribed me with enough drugs to keep an underground group of mexican drug lords going for about a month. So he grabbed some random piece of paper and scrubbed out the name of the 'real' doctor and replaced it with his own (I think his name is 'Glu', if you guys want to keep a look out for him on the next episode of Watchdog) and then prescribed away. Clearly it was his first day. Gladly I drugged myself up and numbed the pain until I decided to go out boarding with Rob. As amusing as it was seeing him come down his first blue, it failed to shield the ear ache that had magically developed simply by going up one stupid lift. So for the moment I can't really go up much higher than 1970m, and as a bonus, I can't drink for a week. So basically this is probably the most boring week, EVER! Ha ha

Marge gets merry!

Marge and Pete show us where the party's at

She made her way through that Mojito like it was going out of fashion

I couldn't let my parents come here without taking them to the holy grail of drink establishments, la Rhumerie. Half way through her first Mojito Marge starts chomping on the mint in it and is definitely on her way. Particularly when she asks such questions about the telemetro that we took to get there, as 'so where does the other telemetro go to'? Err, both cabins go to the same place woman! She then polishes off that one and is left pondering through the cocktail menu, when she finally makes the fantastic choice of 'well, whatever you're having'. Mai Tai it is then, and this definitely sends her over the edge as she starts to wince in pain at her broken rib, but finds it funny and so starts both laughing and wincing at the same time. After a hazardous trip home we put her to bed to sleep it off, what a proud daughter I am!

Dark Corner Deux Alpes FIASCO!

Look, it could actually pass for a REAL restaurant!

Lights that turn on themselves people, themselves!

Living in a box next to a guest room is surely the next best thing

Oh come on, its just not funny anymore

At least this made me laugh my ass off

Having the parents here with a rental car was an absolute blessing. They took myself and Hannah down the mountain to Bourg St Maurice and we stocked up on everything, it was like heaven! Toiletries, shoes, gloves, no stone was left unturned and we were so happy that there was actually life outside of la Plagne! On my day off however, myself and Rob decided to go over to Deux Alpes to see Miss First Aid herself, Nicola, of Corsica fame. It was a long journey over there but it was brilliant to see her again, as well as Charlotte restaurant, Millhouse and Becky, in a massive Corsica reunion! That was until we realised that something was a little fishy, and not quite the same as l'hotel Christina. If anyone is lucky enough to have a copy of the glossy Dark Corner ski brochure you will notice that they are capable of making a bombsite look pretty inviting, I have to admit however that with les 2 alpes, they are not lying. To say it is luxurious isn't even doing it justice.

Lets take a look at the statistics... (Christina's poor efforts to keep up shown in italic)

Restaurant that looks like a posh restaurant
Tables found in a skip with beer mats holding them up

Pool (indoor and out)
Err...ice sheet outside hotel

Sauna
Smelly hot boot room

Own ski shop
Andy Morris driving around town hoping to drop skis off at the hotel

Staff that actually like the job and do work
Workshy

the piece de resistance... public toilets that have hand towels and automatic lights
a public toilet not much different from those you would find at country petrol stations, lacking in even paper hand towels, and a mirror that shows you your chest, not your face

Now thats enough of a rant about the hotel, don't even get me started on the staff accommodation. Not only was it off site, a lot of it is in a log cabin, complete with kitchen, lounge and lush bathroom, and bedroom separate. A tad different from die box you might think. So then we start thinking that the town might at least be rubbish. We walked for about 20 minutes and we still hadn't got out of the main strip of bars and clubs, in la Plagne you'd be in Bourg St bloody Maurice by that time! So we left les 2 alpes, severely depressed, and so treated ourselves to McDonalds to drown our sorrows. So safe to say everyone is off to 2 alpes next winter!

Change of management!

This wiseguy is now big boss man

The loss of Ollie means someone had to step up. So bring on my favourite Irish leprechaun, Chris. Not much else I can say other than he had to give me the appraisal that Ollie was supposed to give me on the day he was sacked, which was pretty amusing as I laughed the whole way through it, bearing in mind he is only a wee nipper at 21, and when he started he was merely general staff like the rest of us paupers. Anyway good luck Christophe!

Black Thursday 2

Jamie and Chubby in 999 reconstruction of THE RAMPAGE tm

Last black Thursday involved the firing of a kp and all sorts of other shenanigans, with part deux, I really don't know where to start. My boss Ollie was on the sauce pretty much from breakfast time as he had a bunch of mates out, and by about 5pm he was buying a bottle of genepi off me, so clearly he was quite well oiled up. Later that night there was another night out for the Heads of Department (remember last time Paul got gatwicked? Not a good sign) at a restaurant I was eating at with Marge and Pete, and you could cut the tension with a knife. From what I hear it ended up being a chance for all of them to tell each other what they really thought about each other, and Ollie didn't exactly shy away. After that it was all a bit hazy but when I returned to Scottys I heard Ollie shouting the odds at Chris for some reason, and then THE RAMPAGE began. According to an accurate reconstruction by Jamie and Chubby, he threw a chair out of Scottys on to the snow, then in an incredible hulk like green turn of events he pushed over a bin...and then he encountered humans. Oh dear god. Apparently he pushed yank nanny over and threatened to beat up a couple of kps. Hannah Scottys, Dave and myself all found this incredibly amusing because we couldn't possibly believe Ollie would act like this. Regardless, all the 'witnesses' to the 'crime' came into the incident room (aka the taverna where I was only trying to get a bloody cup of tea and got shoved out) armed with pieces of paper ready to grass up Ollie, and boy they could have written a novel at the rate they were going. To be honest Ollie didn't stand a chance against the novel of hate and he was asked to speak to the hotel manager the next day where he was sacked, barred from his own pub, and basically kicked out of his accommodation. So well done Jon Lendrum for firing the best bar manager he has probably ever had. Fortunately Ollie isn't barred anymore and basically gets a month holiday in la Plagne while he stays with his girlfriend!

Marge and Pete in da house

Living the fancy life of a retired, B and Q discount and free bus pass claiming person involves a lot of holidays. It was time for the parental visit. On Saturday Marge and Pete arrived and of course withing about 5 minutes I remembered why they were my parents and didn't belong to anyone else. They rock up to Plagne Centre in their fancy rental Peugeot and I show them into Scottys, and then BAM! In classic Margaret Weaver dappy style she falls over and is wincing in pain. This was all just the start. We go along to the building where they are renting an appartment and of course there is no agent to get the key off, which is where things started to go dramatically wrong. The building they live in is probably the most complex one ever created. Stairways that go to nowhere, lifts that take you to whatever level it fancies and then simply going back down to the first level lands you in another hotel, or even another resort. After about an hour of arguing Marge took the bull by the horns and goes off in search of the magical key, and about 2 hours later she comes back. I'm not sure how but she managed to harass a random french dog walker (and the dog), ended up speaking to some random estate agent at 10 at night, until bingo she got the key. Thank god. After all the fracas of the key retrieval, Marge is still in pain from the fall, so she goes to the doctor a few days later. Whats the verdict? Only a cracked rib! How does she do it? More importantly how on earth does she get through the day?

Staff party!

Jon Manager and his fiancee Debs, where they belong

Rob opted for the fancy navy striped number

Narnia, so far in that closet

Given that I was sick as a dog during our last staff party I was determined to make up for lack of abuse of free alcohol. It was a treat being served a 3 course meal and free wine by our Heads of Department and pretty much everyone just got trashed and full on fancy food. Highlights of the night have to be seeing Rob and Jon our hotel manager in KP mode, complete with fancy green pvc apron, washing up after us, ha! Unfortunately that was about it, everyone got wasted, no one remembers the night. Oh but Stu pool was walking around Scottys with a girls handbag, which is further reinforcement that the name on his hoody should definitely be 'Narnia'. If you have to ask, don't ask. Looking back, I'm not entirely sure why we had a staff party considering we live an existence of bread and water, but I'm not complaining.

Bin bag ball, another brainchild of Will Chalet

Candys open for business, notice Osama bin bag, centre

Hannah Scottys, she may be incompetent but she looks hot

Hannah HK. Apparently she was wearing bin bag underwear. At least we hope so

Birthdays in this place pretty much mean everyone has to get dressed up. Most of the time this is left to Will Chalet...well he actually works in Scotty's with us, but as he started out in 'Team Chalet', that is how he shall henceforth be known. He really pulled out all the stops for Andy ski hosts birthday, with the idea of a bin bag ball. Essentially, get a load of bin bags, cover yourself in them, and look as if a pile of rubbish has thrown up on you. Getting pretty drunk is of course obligitory in any dress up situation and we did pretty well on that front. The party began at 'Candys', one of the new clubs in la Plagne. By club I mean a staff accommodation room, and the 'guvnor' of said establishment is Caspar, one of our chefs, and joint licensee is Andy ski host. Hence the name Candys. True legends. The only alcohol is Spar bought bottles of Kronenbourg, retailing at 1.25 Euro for 2 bottles, to get the wheels in motion, and then its on to Scottys, before being firmly warned by the licensee that we need to keep the noise down as he has 'had the council on his back all day'. The aftermath of the night was a trail of multicoloured bin bags and memory loss, much like most nights, except sans bin bag massacre.

Kate, these sproutlings are your babies!

I didn't dress up for the photo by the way, 2am seemed an appropriate time to take a snap!

Kate, I can't believe I only discovered these sproutlings yesterday! Savagely cut off by some Las Vegan physician in post incident stitch removal, this is 11 months growth right in front of my eyes! I hope you are proud as you looked after them so well!