Jetting Educated

I have just begun working a ski season in the French Alps, but there's just one problem: No snow, no snow, no snow. No snow to the extent that on set-up week when we cleaning the toys before the first children arrived, we were outside the Snow Club in t-shirts with sun cream on. Sweet! That was fine as I hadn't rented skis yet, but since getting some kit and dying to hit slope, it was discovered a fair amount of ice hanging around on the piste. It was like that kid at school who thinks he's your mate but you don't really want him loitering around you (was probably me at school). Thankfully Christmas Eve was just like in the movies and it was kind of a joyous occasion. This feeling was aided by the fact I watched Die Hard, on the 25th anniversary of the events at Nakatomi Plaza :) so good times all around. I did not ski on Christmas but on boxing day it was the clearest day of the season and the snow was beautiful. "This is the reason I live in the Alps&q

Just a quick one as its fairly mental here with not much time being spent on the computer. We are focusing on learning about our jobs, making friendships, having fun and trying not to get sent home before we even start the season. (I think five people have been booted already).  We have been here for a few days, and this coming Monday we will be heading off to our resort of La Rosiere. My initial feelings are that is going to be an amazing experience- its like being at uni for the first time, with a few differences. The similarities are easy to spot; we are a group of people from a range of backgrounds, thrown in to an unfamiliar location, who know that we are going to be spending a lot of time together in the future. I would say that the biggest difference to the first week of uni is the lack of drinking. There is a bar where we are staying but I have been having about one beer a night  (and bear in mind this is a modest 25cl in France). This is refreshing

In all of nature, animals swim freely in water without burden of cloth, yet humans are the only creatures who insist on wearing clothes whilst swimming. Some times I really think that we get carried away with this society thing and should answer more to our natural instincts: Nudity. Swimming with trunks on is not right in my mind and I had to rectify the situation. I did not swim naked here in Santorini, despite the intention So I wanted to get naked and go swimming during a backpacking trip in Europe. Easy. Plenty of  hostels near the beach; ideal since pools are usually locked at night. Each night out after a few beers I tried to convince friends that skinny dipping in the sea on our way back to the hostel was a good idea. This would have been an simple plan to execute if only we didn't party so late and want to pass out by the time we were going home. (Surely not- too tired to get naked with strangers?? A poor show, I know). Then, after two nights of inebri

I had never met many Australians, only a couple I think, before heading off travelling. Then, I realised, that Greece is the Oz of Europe- at least when I was there. I studied them well in many locations and learned loads of interesting things about their culture and habits. Lets get this out of the way first then: Australians can drink extremely competently and some seemed to want to display this skill every night. I met 53 Strayans (as some call themselves) in 39 days and as I recall they were all big drinkers. I was inspired my first night in Santorini where there was no kitchen and no chilled solution for the beverages. What to do? No fridge? No problem- Eskie to the reskie Aussie ingenuity from Ryan was on it way- he and Christian grabbed a large box from the supermarket, as well as a sheet of plastic and a ton of ice to make a portable freezer or 'eskie'. When I asked if it was named so because Eskimos also made them, they were unable to give a def

Its day 32 on my first backpacking trip through Europe, I'm in Firenze and looking at my diary. I'm seeing how many tally marks I can put to faces. No, not like that. Let me explain. In the back of the diary I have a list of countries, and a mark for each person I've met from that place. Specifically, its people that I've sat down and talked to, rather than having briefly met, otherwise the list would be difficult to manage. And besides, I'm mainly interested in recording the nationalities of people who Ive made friends with, even if they have only been 'single serving'. Birds and bins in Firenze The stats so far are 21 nationalities, 12 being from the EU, and the others from all over the place, including Israel, Argentinia, Oz, South Africa and Vietnam.         As of today, 120 tally marks are on the list. I think I could recall nearly all the faces if I tried. In the 'lead' is Australia whose people have taught me much, but

How people act around others who are sleeping can tell you a lot about them. This is especially true in dorm rooms where people's sleeping patterns are always different. Whether its someone having a huge lie-in, mid afternoon siesta, early night or (let's be realistic) coming home drunk, there are always people asleep when you're awake or vice versa. Most backpackers are considerate and try to be quiet but no surprise that some seem to not give a shit. If I  know I will be back late, I have been trying to make preparations for drunk Dion (or 'Jack' as many of you known him) such as making sure my toothbrush, contact lens case and glasses are by my bed and ready for use. Its simple. I don't have to turn the light on and blind people and I don't have to faff through all the, frankly, unnecessary crap I have brought with me to find what I need. The number times I have awoken to see drunken travellers rummaging through their pack like a post-hibernati

Day Seventeen, first post. This may seem like a poor effort but when combining a lack of wifi with the fact I don't own a laptop it becomes more excusable. I am currently on the island of Ischia, Italy, roasting to near certain death- in a good way. I think. Its been about 35 degrees every day which to be fair is not so bad. Someone I met said that recently, when she was in Dubai, it had been 51. In perspective, 35 degrees 'ain't no thang but a chicken wang'. As some people say. The hostel I am staying at with Lauren, an Australian I met in Naples, is run by three brothers and is actually a converted convent. The Nuns and I probably enjoyed the low ceilinged bedrooms, charismatic dining (drinking) area and sea views in a different ways though. In addition, the brothers (along with their Dad, Salvatore- the most Italian looking old man ever) have many other establishments that we are allowed to take advantage of as patrons of the Ring Hostel. One such p