For a fairly unorganised girl of 21, I’ve managed to travel quite a lot. Most of it has been cheap as you like, dirty backpacking – scraping all of my money together through crappy part time waitressing, and blowing my meagre funds on seeing as much as I can. I was also lucky enough to bag a job travel reporting for SPAR International right after uni for four months all over the world. But despite such an extensive repertoire of travelling, nothing could have really prepared me for the start of my ski season.
My current home is located 1500m above sea level. A small village in the French Alps, surrounded by nothing but snow, snow, snow. None of my previous travel experiences have involved a stay in any one specific place for longer than three weeks at a time – hence the first big plunge into the unknown.
The second – and most scary – has been my actual job. Apart from a fairly casual newspaper internship in Honduras, I’ve never worked abroad. Actually, I’ve not had a full time job ever, regardless of the location.
All expectations of chalet hosting have been totally blown out of the water… Mainly because of my pretty drastic job change from host to commie chef. Yes. Commie chef. Despite my protestations that I’ve never worked in a kitchen before and will probably be awful at it, this is my job for the next 5 months.
Being thrown in at the deepest of the deep ends hasn’t been a total bad call. Although I was more than a little bit nervous to begin with, I’ve gotten out of my comfort zone and am giving something a shot that, realistically, would never have even dreamed of doing. As my best friend reminded me, I’m now a chef in the French Alps, and how many people can drop that into conversation?