A delightful group of Belgian guests wanted breakfast set up, served and cleared each day in Loft this past week. Overtime would be paid as they are charged €25 per hour, plus shopping. I’m not sure how much I’ll get, I suspect about €10 per hour, but we’ll see, it has still been 12 additional hours for the week so not to be sniffed at. The advantage has been that I could segue seamlessly into housekeeping and be finished by 11am after 4 hours.
I have been introduced to the local boulangerie/patisserie as these guys have not only had a sizeable bread and pastries order each day but also wanted a tarte or afternoon tea cake. I had been concerned that they might have wanted me to bake this as well when we learnt that they would have preferred a catered chalet but one wasn’t available. I’m happy to go out and buy one (they aren’t delivered to the patisserie until 9am) but didn’t want to start faffing around baking and delaying my finish time.
My training involved helping Heather, the host, do breakfast in one the catered chalets in La Tania last Friday when Sam, the chef, was on early morning shopping for the week. I must have sounded overly joyed to do so as the message came in at the same time as an offer from my tenant to buy my house! But I wasn’t upset about the former. I did high-light the drawback that the first bus would get me there for 8.30am, which might be a bit late, so a driver was laid on and I was picked up outside our apartment at 7.15 and brought back at 10am.
I decided that my own breakfast table must have been fairly impressive when one of the guests took a photo of it, the father of the constipated toddler who is afraid of the hoover (the toddler is, not the father). I was somewhat deflated though this morning when he took another photo of the brown paper sack which contains the bread order! You can judge whether the spread is worthy. They are only asking for either scrambled or fried eggs as the cooked option, which I’m relived I can accommodate (even if I did melt the fish slice on the second morning) and have got used to the latter being termed ‘sunny-side’ which sounds much more healthy than ‘fried egg’. So I’ll let them off the fact that they have commandeered my white towel cupboard.
My alarm for 6.20am was perhaps less than welcome to our fellow occupants each day but at least this meant that I could use the bathroom at my leisure, leaving it free for the three boys to fight over later. Joe and James have been sharing our cupboard for the past week, which has been a tad cramped and stretched the kitchen facilities to absolute limits.
Despite mixed weather James and Roger have been out every day and Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday found us guiding around favoured slopes of Meribel. Joe and James will be out on Friday, in what is forecast to be glorious sunshine but we have the chalet shopping to complete in Moutiers. One of the son’s of our colleagues, Sue and Pete, is also out this week so weren’t interested in swapping, but I think Roger might be grateful for the rest.
We went to the Bubble bar quiz night on Sunday but were not able to repeat our previous success, although the score was quite respectable. We took them to La Tania for a meal in Ski Lodge on Wednesday, where I had a super gluten-free pie which will definitely need repeating. A light and music show was scheduled, followed by more fireworks. The former transpired to be a weird portrayal by five marshmallow men on stilts unwrapping a swathed mushroom, for 20 minutes. Bill, Sue and Pete’s dog, had given them an appropriate treatment and had to be constrained on a lead so that they didn’t deflate, but I think his verdict was fairly universal. The five minute firework display was excellent, albeit brief. The whole firework festival closed tonight at 18,50 and James and I went to watch a great display by next year’s French entry, after hearing GB announced as 2019’s winner. I think I’m fireworked-out for this year.