Learning the Art of Crisis Managing

A love letter to undercooked eggs, overcooked guests, and being very far from home at Christmas.

If you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to be a chalet host, imagine running a small hotel while sleep-deprived, slightly hungover, and wearing a permanent layer of cake batter. That’s the job. It’s an experience that teaches you patience, resilience, and the ability to act like you’re deeply invested in whether an accountant from Surrey prefers his eggs scrambled or poached.

My job in Val D’Isère was simple in theory: cook breakfast, bake a cake, clean rooms, prep dinner, serve and host a four-course meal with the enthusiasm of Paul Hollywood, and then get up the next day and do it all over again. In reality, it was a daily test of endurance, improvisation, and the extreme ability to manage a crisis with a smile on your face. The dishwasher hated dishes, requests would fly in for gluten-free, dairy-free, fun-free meals at the last minute, and somehow, despite vacuuming every surface, there was always a sock in the middle of the living room – every single day.

And then there were the guests. Most were lovely - enthusiastic skiers who just wanted a good meal and a warm bed. Others were… challenging. There was the woman who classified herself as, “a-sort-of-vegetarian-when-I-feel-like-it”, the man who gave a week-long monologue on why forcing meat-eaters to eat a vegetarian meal one evening was against his humanly rights, and the group of Aussies on a boys trip who took drinking to a new level.

Being away from home over Christmas was particularly tough. While my family was back in South Africa enjoying a summer Christmas, I was peeling 50 potatoes for a roast dinner - a dinner, might I add, that I had never experienced before because Christmas dinners in South Africa consisted of a braai and a gin and tonic by the pool. It was the first time I truly felt the weight of being away - no chaotic present unwrapping, no familiar food, just a frantic dinner service and a quick FaceTime call with my parents.

While the festive season brought a lot of low lows, there was something incredibly special about being involved in someone else’s Christmas; about having the sole purpose of making their Chirstmas as special and memorable as possible. Seeing the joy that my effort gave them completely shifted my perspective. So for all the stress and tears, there was magic in it too. Waking up to fresh snowfall on my first White Christmas was indescribable. I learnt a lot about myself over the 2024 festive season – and I’m a better person for it.