That wasn’t a particularly good week! The guests were arriving from North Wales so Roger was hopeful that they’d be keen rugby fans and would therefore want to watch the 6 Nations on Saturday evening and Sunday. But no. They were football supporters, even if one had gone to school with James Hook, the Welsh fly-half/full-back. 14 people plus a baby came through the door, not the 14 including a baby we were expecting.
The first inkling that they’d be a challenge was when they arrived back at the chalet half an hour late for the welcome meeting, citing a need to purchase fresh milk for baby. Presumably only starting to look for a shop at the time they should have returned, so as not to erode any minutes from their drinking time. (There were 3 other children under 10 as well as the baby.) By this time on changeover day we are counting the minutes before we can collapse into bed and this week was no different, worse if anything as we’d been on the go since 4.45am. It would be easy to drop the meet’n’greet but as it gives us an opportunity to tell guests about the chalet facilities and routines it can be helpful for us to ensure that they know this information. I shouldn’t have bothered, no-one listened anyway. I had to ask/tell one to disconnect his phone from the bluetooth speakers I had just told them about, so that I didn’t have to speak over his playlist.
All the noise did mean that their porridge order was messed up as Roger attempted to count hands of those desiring it the following morning. When they all requested it the next day there wasn’t enough prepared. “I’m sure we all said we wanted it” came a slightly challenging response from the party organiser’s partner. What was said and what was heard were two different things in that melee. Another said she needed breakfast at 7am (instead of 7.45) to be ready in time. She tried to argue with me but as I could assert that everyone else managed to be ready in time in three years and that the bread shop didn’t open until 7am, we were not going to get up an hour earlier just to suit her.
We moved on to our night off and they wanted suggestions as to where to go. After some discussion and consensus they agreed a restaurant to book for Wednesday night “14 + baby at 7.30pm?” I confirmed. “No, we’ll be 18.” I had no problem with this, they must have friends staying in resort. “Are those guys coming to stay then?” came an innocent voice. The guy asking for 18 looked sheepish for a moment and then said “Yes”! They had arranged for 4 additional people to stay over on our night off. What were we supposed to do? They’d even let us know! I said they needed to be gone by the time we came in on Thursday morning. We booked their table for 18 people plus baby, they all want steak, not sure they’ll get it in that quantity.
Through-out all this Scotland were beating England and I missed it! Consequently Roger was in a bad mood because England played like muppets!
The meal was a rowdy affair, but no more so than some until a pea-brain decided to whiz the lazy-Susan round so that her friend could get the wine quickly. Obviously ignorant of centrifugal forces the bottle of wine flew off and in the process knocked a glass onto the floor which shattered in every direction. Whilst trying clear up all the shards of broken glass off the floor another guy became a little shirty with me because he was covered in red wine and it seemed to be my fault that I wasn’t cleaning that up. Meanwhile the perpetrator didn’t lift a finger to help clear up the mess she’d caused. We couldn’t wait to leave. Not an auspicious start to the week, especially when we’re knackered but at least Tramadol had kept my pelvic pain under control.
The following morning we struggled to get in the front door as they’d parked the multi-terrain pushchair against it. (There was little other space for it) At least it is now a glass wall so we could see what was blocking it (but I’m not cleaning it, there have been too many extra jobs added to our list over the past 2 years and we are now up at 50hrs a week when full – most weeks – not good!)
Once the porridge issue was settled and Mrs ‘I need breakfast at 7am’ finally emerged from her bedroom they disappeared up the hill into mixed weather. At 5.50pm our phone rang. They’d just got off the mountain and were cold and tired, could we come and pick them up? What a surpirse! All the adults except Grandad (experienced skier) and mum of the 4 and 8 year olds (inexperienced skier) were experienced snowboarders. So one would have thought that they’d have a piste map between them and keep an eye on the weather, particularly when skiing with young children, but no! I gave directions to the bus stop, about 100 yds away and due in 10 minutes. Half an hour later they called to say it hadn’t arrived. They hadn’t moved, not gone to the stop I’d directed them to, stayed at the one our bus doesn’t stop at. They asked another bus driver but unfortunately he didn’t speak English and told them that they were at a bus stop, they were, just the wrong one so it was his fault. Are UK bus drivers multi-lingual?
1 day in, 5 more to go!