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23 February - Not a Good Week for Some
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That bloody fool Tony Blair caused all the problems last week.
Apparently he was responsible for jamming this year's half term in the UK
into one week instead of two. This meant that Skiing Europe (the company I
work for in the Alps) had to cram six hundred children's holidays into
Interlaken in one week to keep up with last year, instead of the usual
three hundred spread over two weeks, and this was to just one resort out of
ten.
Confusion is standard and happily accepted with Skiing Europe. This time it was chaos and not
entirely due to its own making. Company staff in the resort consist of the
lowly ski instructors (ten to a class) and then a rep for each school
group. These usually come out in the same coach as the teachers and
children, and stay in the same hotel as their group, but not this week. At
least half a dozen instructors failed to show and one, who did arrive and
sign in, didn't turn up the first morning.
Overseeing these foot soldiers was a chief instructor, Sibby, who was
very good at making lists, but couldn't perform miracles to make up the
instructor shortfall. There was also a couple, Keith and Jane, who
looked after the six hundred pairs of skis and boots from a garage a
mile out of Interlaken. The children would be taken there after
arriving to be fitted out with their ski kit.
Overseeing the whole Interlaken operation was the chief rep, Rhys, a
reasonably fit forty five year old who liased with the other reps, who
liased in turn with the group teachers. |
Mountains around Interlaken |
Picture this: Monday night sees the start of the biggest snowfall in the
Jungfrau region for twenty five years. Over the next thirty six hours
nearly four feet of the stuff drops on to the higher mountains. We reach
the slopes by coach, usually the same one the children and teachers come
out in from the UK with their British drivers. The coach drivers run
themselves.
On Tuesday morning it's still snowing hard and I say 'Morning' to the coach
driver and then 'I guess you'll be putting the chains on then' looking into
the sky. 'No, I think we'll get up without' he says cheerily.
Thirty minutes later we are approaching the only hairpin on the way up to
Grindelwald. The snow is lying two inches deep on the road and we are
getting a bit nervous but the traffic is still moving and the coach tyres
are gripping well. And then, in front of us as we approach the hairpin is a
lonely, struggling van. This is the one Rhys has hired to shuffle
instructors around in to try and make up the shortfall in other hotels -
like robbing Peter to pay Paul. It is veering from side to side and stops
just before the hairpin. We have to stop too. The van is pushed into a
parking space at the side of the road. Rhys is sitting in the driver's seat
and doesn't look well.
Rhys Morgan - get well soon |
Our coach
struggles to get round the hairpin and fails and we have to get into
the parking space too. The road's now blocked both ways but eventually
we manage it and at last put the chains on. The rest of the day is pure
skiing pleasure for all of us.
Returning to the hotel we hear that Rhys has had a heart attack and
scheduled for later surgery to open up an artery. The next morning we
hear that Jane has been taken ill with nervous exhaustion and is in
bed. When I see Sibby a day later she looks like she's ready to
collapse. |
The next day promises sunshine but most of the coach drivers have gone
on strike and refuse to take us up the mountain - the Swiss snowploughs
have done a great job in the night and the roads are clear. We have to take
the train instead...
But still the organism functions, and do you know what - I really like
working for Skiing Europe, and what's more, the children and teachers from
our hotel all left Interlaken with big smiles. They'd thoroughly enjoyed
themselves, which after all is the whole point of the exercise.
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