Oh what a race.

Transfer day is like no other day in the seasonaire's week. The mere mention of the day is enough to bring even veteran hosts and reps out in cold sweats. The day is unpredictable, unplannable and capricious in its deliverance and yet the premise is simple; old guests leave, new guests arrive. Now factor in baggage, equipment, diverse travel itineraries, french drivers, mountain weather, french traffic and general all round sods law, it soon becomes as mysterious well something really mysterious.

The best way your host can describe it, is as a race. A race between the reps and the hosts, set over the distance of a marathon while run at the pace of a sprint. The hosts win if they can escort old guests out, clean the chalet and cook food before the new guests arrive. The reps win if they can surprise the hosts with their new guests before they're at all ready. A race your host nearly won but the mountain gods have seen fit to with hold snow, it rained yesterday, and present another batch of really nice guests, including grandmothers, so some things do work out for the better.

Week two is rhythm week, its the time to find the routine. That winning combination of time management and corner cutting that allows for the maximum slope time. Its about honing the hospital bed fold, its about finding a hoover that works and keeping it hidden from all others, it about breaking down the work into its tetris like building blocks and then rearranging them into the optimal pattern.

Bring on the turkey.