Socks at christmas

Each week as the new guest lists are handed out, we hosts play a game. We try figure out from the names and sparse information supplied to us the identities and back stories of the new guests. Inevitably we are always wrong. One week its an extended family, the next it is a bunch of welsh young farmers ("hows it going Hughie??) and then 15 middle aged men from an all male outdoors society.

Each week brings a different demographic as deals and prices coax different people to the slopes. January is typically a fairly slow month, most tourists are either British or Russian. The local french population spent their money over new years apparently. With the lack of Europeans, the slopes are nice and quiet and lift queues are non existent. For your host this is a welcome break from the meat market that is the February half term.

As guests come and go, they like to leave things around the chalet, sometimes by accident and sometime we get Thanked In Person. Things left behind include a blackberry charger, two novels (which are now what we call "The Library"), a small baggie with a suspicious substance inside, and countless socks. Better still when they leave bottles of beer (flogged to the next guests), bottles of mixer (gratefully received) and best of all the half bottles of spirits (lovingly drank).

Your host likes it when guests Thank In Person, on a long Sunday it can be the saving grace to an otherwise awful day. Usually monetary in nature, these gifts allow your host to leave his otherwise meager wage untouched in the bank and enjoy the following week in a certain amount of style and comfort.

It can be awkward when they invite you to open an envelope in front of everyone, all you can do is thank them as much as you can and retreat back to the kitchen to regroup. On the very rare occasion receiving such gifts feels like socks at Christmas, fortunately so far our guests have been generous and gregarious and other such words beginning with "g".

So far the meter of jaffa cakes is winning