Once Upon A Time In Méribel...

Of all my life's adventures, my ski season in France has got to top the list. Never in all my life have I laughed, cried, skied, and let's be honest, drank, quite so much. It was a no-brainer for me to hit the slopes as soon as I graduated, the working world just isn't ready for me yet I told myself. Doing French at uni and having worked in numerous bars and pubs, it seemed obvious to me that this was my ticket into my dream job out there. After extensive research, I found where I wanted to work; a bar and restaurant in Meribel called The Brewer's Den which upon closing, opened it's doors to an underground nightclub called Sullys. A few interviews and long phone calls later and I finally heard those magical words, "Prepare to spend a s*!t tonne of money". NO NO, not those words, 'You've got the job!". Phew. I took it upon myself to work two jobs concurrently so that I could save up enough money to buy everything out there myself and before I knew it, I was on the plane to Geneva, completely unaware of the adventure that awaited me...

Upon arriving in Méribel, I immediately felt like I'd been transported into the pages of a fairy tale book. Disney-esque chalets were sprinkled across the mountain adorned with an array of glistening lights. I can honestly say that every day felt like Christmas. This magical illusion was soon shattered upon entering my accommodation but quickly redeemed by my lovely new co-workers and charismatic managers, all of whom I knew immediately I'd get along well with. We were all given a Caliente, a shot born and bred in Méribel and practically a rite of passage for seasonnaires. In case you were wondering, this shot consisted of doing a half shot of espresso, followed by a shot of golden rum followed by the other half of the espresso. Genius if you ask me.

Now I know better than to bore you with all the intricate details of my job so I'll just tell you the highlights. Monday night soon became synonymous with Rock N Roll Bingo, an event hosted in the bar I worked, which attracted seasonnaires and holiday-goers from all over the resort. For the measly price of one euro, you could get your hands on an array of wonderful ski-related prizes. All you had to do was have a decent knowledge of music (or Shazam, but you didn't hear that from me...), some killer dance moves (mandatory) and you must have the lyrics to Kelly Clarkson's 'Since U Been Gone' memorised. I often had people ask me as I was working these nights if I'd rather be on the other side of the bar. But rest assured, I had just as much fun serving drinks and giving everyone stellar lip sync performances. Well..almost as much fun. Shout out to MC Westy for always providing nothing but the best tunes for us to boogie the night away to!

As I mentioned, as well as working in a bar, I also worked a few nights a week in a club. This meant having dinner as soon as I got in from the slopes followed by a big ol' nap. Work started at half 10 and usually finished around half five in the morning. As someone who is neither a night owl nor an early bird but more of a permanently exhausted pigeon, this came as quite a shock to my system. Drinks were having to be served quicker, shot glasses seemed to be flying off the shelves and customers so-called attempts at flirting became even more dire (yes, this is somehow possible). An example of this I hear you ask? Why of course. A personal favourite of mine came from someone, let's call him Freddie, who swaggered into the club with his crew behind him looking like the winners of the world's worst boy band; The Trust Fund Boys if you will. What I'm sure was his attempt at a smolder honestly just made him look like he had the worst case of constipation I'd ever seen. "Four tequila shots and *looks around at his mates*, your number please beautiful." My eyes must have rolled so far back I saw my brain. Needless to say, he wasn't getting my name let alone my number. Better luck next time, hun.

However, it wasn't all horrendous pick-up lines and One Direction wannabes. Many a good night was spent in Sullys. Most notably, New Year's Eve! While the exact details are a little foggy, I do remember dancing my little Air Force 1's off and accepting a few too many free shots, oops. After we closed the bar and cleaned up the ocean of debris that littered the club floors, we all gathered around and helped ourselves to some well-earned beers, giving our feet a much-needed rest. As I prepared to say my goodbyes and head off to bed, I found myself getting roped into a few more drinks at The Tav, which of course was open now seeing as it was 8 am. We must have looked like extras from the set of The Walking Dead as we stumbled up there, a definite sight for sore eyes. More than a few Caliente's and vodka mixers later, I finally ended up at the promised land, otherwise known as my bedroom. Louise, OUT.

Okay okay but what about the actual skiing part Louise? You know, the reason you came out there in the first place?! For those of you who don't know, Méribel is part of a resort called The Three Valleys consisting of the Russian billionaire playground, Courcheval, and party town, Val Thorens. Something about being abroad makes me forget that money is an actual thing. This would help explain why I bought new skis, boots and poles. What are overdrafts for anyway? Now I've been fortunate enough to go skiing a few times both with my family and my university. However, it was safe to say I felt like a fish out of water as I clicked my boots into my skis that first morning. A few sudden gasps and near-death experiences later, I found my ski legs and was back to full-sending it down the mountain. In other words, right back in my happy place.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am quite possibly the world's biggest klutz. This of course doesn't always translate well when skiing...especially park skiing. I approached what I thought was a small kicker and was both shocked and confused when I found out this wasn't the case. By this point, however, my limbs were flailing helplessly and my life had started to flash before my eyes. Eventually, I succumbed to that awful thing called gravity and started plummeting towards the ground whereupon I was greeted with a heavy thud as well as a rather large knock to my ego, oh and some ski school kids cackling away from the other side of the slope. Note to self: Stop trying to be Eddie the Eagle!

To finish off, it should really go without saying that my season wouldn't have been half as much fun if it wasn't for the wonderful people I surrounded myself with. Of course, I had my darling co-workers who got me through more than a few club shifts when all I wanted to do was collapse on the alcohol-soaked floor. Thank you for entertaining my love for photo booths and for just generally putting up with my 5:30 am mood. Love you all.

I should probably mention my boyfriend was on season and worked just five minutes down the road from me. I thank the Lord every day that he got a job in Meribel, not least because I'm not the world's biggest fan of long-distance, but mainly because it is through him that I met some of my closest friends. You know who you are. I couldn't possibly put into words how much fun I had with all of them from happy hour at Waikiki, to apres at the Ronnie, to drinking stubbies on the side of some random slope. Absolute gems, the lot of you. Here's to hoping I'll get to venture out to Méribel with you all soon. But for now, stay steezy.