We started job hunting while still in Tasmania, hoping to get work locked in before we headed off to Vietnam. Before I had arrived I never really linked Australia with skiing, but having missed out on a ski related job while in NZ we decided to try our luck in OZ instead. Our persistence paid off and soon we were in the lucky situation of having two job offers on the table and having to decide between them. One was a job working in a resort catering to those skiing at the nearby Mount Buller, and one was working in a ski lodge at Australia's only snowbound resort. Despite the money, timeframe and benefits being considerably worse, we went with the ski lodge job: the unique experience aspect of being almost stuck at a small car-free resort drawing us in... plus it seemed more chilled.
Whilst we were in Vietnam there was a small hiccup with the job. The sewerage treatment plant that serviced the whole resort had broken, randomly setting on fire and the mountain (the people in charge of the ski resort) needed to decide whether to open at all. We had a discussion at this point, about if we should give up on the job and start looking for something else but decided to stick with it for now, we'd revisit the situation once we had some more information. In the end, although the resort's opening date was pushed back to get things fixed, our start date would remain the same and that decided it for us really.
We arrived on the 12th of June (travelling 3000km from Perth to Canberra, followed by a three hour bus) and although we wouldn't be living in the resort for three weeks we would be living with our bosses and co-worker from the beginning. Things seemed to be going well, we'd spend all day working and spend the evenings chilling out, getting to know each other. We would take turns cooking for each other just to make things fair. Everyone seemed to get along.
Our boss drove us an hour each way to the lodge everyday, during the season oversnow transport was the only way to and from the resort but in this pre-season stage we could drive the whole way. The frozen landscape outside the car window was mesmerising, i'd never seen the world so cleanly covered in glittering snow. It was my first look at a ski resort too, and the one we passed along the way to ours was ridiculously busy, the bright white mountain covered in tiny colourful figures hurtling their way down the runs at speed.
The lodge, having had some renovations over summer, needed prepping ready for guests so we would spend our days wrapped up in layers, cleaning in the freezing cold - the heating not on till the guests arrived. So the pre-season work was straightforward and everyone got on for the most part. There was one small incident, Ben accidentally gave the wrong bank details and it was handled slightly strangely. Some leaps of logic were made and immediately worst case scenarios were bandied about, it felt like it was taken quite personally... but it was quickly fixed in the end, no lasting harm, so we brushed the weirdness aside, putting it down to perhaps hormones or stress, they were new parents too after all.
Our job came with season passes for the ski resort, and not having a clue what was needed for skiing (that i chose to try) or snowboarding (Ben's chosen snow-sport) our bosses stepped in to help. They let us borrow some ski apparel, sorted out some skis I could use and managed to find both a snowboard and snowboarding boots that would work for Ben. It really helped keep down costs, we could have rented it all (I did end up renting ski-boots for the season) but we were trying to get by as cheap as possible - the pay really wasn't that great. They even helped me set up my skis before my first run out, tensions need to be individually changed so they'd release correctly when I fell - helps keep the knees unbroken i guess. Everything was looking up.
Things did change slightly when the guests arrived. Apart from meals we didn't really hang out much anymore, besides from the dining room there wasn't really anywhere to do so anyway. This was fine of course, but maybe slightly miscommunicated, discussions about years past seemed to have everyone hanging out in the lounge in the manager's flat but I can understand that they might need some time to themselves now instead. There was a change in management style too, things were no longer so relaxed and it felt like everything we did was under a microscope. There was only one good way to complete the task (who knew you could wash up wrong!) and it would never be the way we were doing it.
I learned to ask for exact details on how they wanted things done, rather tedious but better than being scoffed at... sometimes even going by the book didn't work, turns out a few of the recipes (from the lodges vintage and homemade cookbook) weren't quite up to date. You could be following along by the letter when a manager would appear to ask the dreaded "what are you doing?" and what you were doing was apparently wrong - how you were supposed to know this before hand we never managed to work out.
As far as the work itself it was all pretty simple: room turn over was on Saturdays and apart from that the lodge just got cleaned as it was needed. On Wednesdays, we were on call for freight, where we would carry box after box after box of supplies up the snow-covered hill, then up a set of stone steps, through a covered metal walkway with more steps, through the front door and along the entry corridor, before running them up one more flight of stairs and into the Kitchen. Each morning we would check the public areas, carve stairs made from snow into the hill outside and do the washing up. At lunchtime we would set out the buffet, man the shop and do the washing up. In the evenings we would set the tables, man the shop, help plate food and you guessed it, do the washing up. A bit of food prep was thrown in now and then (more for Ben who was supposed to have a "cook" role) but it was all in all an extremely simple routine job.
Sometimes things were a bit awkward, we once questioned the wisdom of using cooking wine to make mulled wine, our queries were not appreciated. They claimed it's fine and while they're correct that it's technically drinkable - it being liquid and all, it's really not intended for that purpose and the sky-high salt content isn't all that good for you either. The end consensus was that Ben's a snob for not trying any, which I found a bit much considering what exactly he didn't want to drink.
It was early July when things started to turn. One of our managers had a word with us, our co-worker was finding the isolated nature of the job pretty tough and we should be nicer to her - implying that we were currently being mean. I left the conversation slightly confused, not only was it stated that we'd pretty much have to cover her shifts if she were to leave but I had thought that we'd been getting along just fine. With all of us pretty much on opposite shifts it doesn't leave much time for hanging out but we had gone skiing together and we chatted away at meal times. If anything, the conversation made both of us feel more reserved towards her: being ourselves obviously hadn't gone over well so without being fake all that was left was to be unfailingly polite - the obvious starting point for all friendships.
At least we had skiing. Our first attempts were atrocious. I had looked up the basics online but that did nothing to prepare me for how unwieldy my limbs would feel as soon as I stepped into the skis. With much determination I made it to "the magic carpet" (the easiest of all ski-lifts in that it's essentially an uphill travelator) which transported me with glacial slowness 40 meters or so up the mountain. From there the only way was down. In hindsight, I really couldn't have been gathering that much speed but in my uncontrolled state it felt like I was flying and, to ensure my safety, I would quickly bail out, throwing myself to the snow instead of learning how to slow down or turn. Eventually I improved, picking up tips from those around me and eventually graduating from the baby run to the "poma" - a button ski-lift that pulls you up the hill by your crotch.
Ben found snowboarding equally as hard. Standing up being the hardest challenge, unless he situated himself just right he would immediately start sliding down the mountain with no real input from himself, often on his bottom. Once he mastered standing, stopping was the next challenge - this also led to much time sliding down the mountain, often on his bottom. Then there was turning, this led to some (by no means less painful but more comical to watch) sliding down the mountain, this time on his front too - I think you get the gist of it. Its widely agreed that the basics of snowboarding are far harder to master than the basics of skiing and it seemed with-in no time Ben was happily zooming around the mountain, far surpassing me in his bravery and willingness to try harder and harder runs.
So when we weren't working (and we could be bothered) we would go out skiing. It was a good way to get some time together and it made it all feel worthwhile. Things weren't as hunky dory as we first thought they would be, but it could have been worse. Our managers were full of stories from their 10 plus years on the mountain, of shoebox living conditions, disgusting shared bathrooms, inedible staff meals and of harsh firings (the recipients being told to get the next oversnow out, essentially losing their job and home in one fell sweep with barely an hour to pack). In fact, during our season the mountain's freight driver hurt her arm snowboarding and was given 24 hours to leave - we all agreed this was pretty extreme.
Around the 20th July there was a big snowstorm and the area outside the emergency escape to the kitchen had filled up with snow. From then on instead of carting rubbish through the lodge we would take it out the emergency escape window near the kitchen, clambering through onto the snow built up outside. The only issue with this was the snow wasn't exactly stable and we would fall through it, sometimes up to our chests. After a particularly bad trip where Ben and I both fell through the snow multiple times (getting soaking wet, and not achieving much as we managed to miss the rubbish truck) Ben let the managers know he wasn't exactly comfortable with the situation. This did not go down well.
I wasn't there for the beginning of the conversation but by the time I arrived things had obviously devolved. Ben was being called rude and disrespectful, they declared that they "knew the lodge better than anyone" and that Ben treated them as if they were stupid. Previously, we found that any suggestions of alternate ways to do things were met defensively - this was not the collaborative sort of workplace that we normally found ourselves in, but I didn't realise that they found making suggestions so offensive. I was shocked, as far as I was aware this had come out of nowhere and what had started with a complaint about workplace safety had turned into a personal attack.
We contemplated leaving. If things weren't working out maybe it'd be better to cut and run - we did have to live there as well as work. We decided to give it a week, if things were bearable we'd stay, keep our heads down and do the work, earn the money. It'd still be a cool experience, right? We'd learn how to ski and get enough funds for the next adventure.
One week became two became three became four. Even though things weren't great it seemed easier to stay, we had plans we were saving for and I would feel bad leaving them in the lurch like that - besides, we still got to ski for free. I tried to keep things amicable, i'd eat dinner with the group after work, i'd join in conversations but I never really felt entirely comfortable. Ben for the most part stayed silent when he was around the others but his main strategy was just avoiding them altogether. He did try, that first week, but he felt like he was being ignored so quickly gave up. His avoidance was brought up early on, with a manager asking me why he wasn't coming to dinner - I explained his feeling blanked and she felt like he was doing the same, so things were cleared up slightly, but I resented that she didn't ask him putting me in the middle instead.
We slowly trudged on, completing our shifts filled with mundane tasks, counting down the days till the end. Some days at work were fine and some were strangely filled with tension, each day was a Russian roulette on what sort of mood our manager would be in and that would set the tone. I was feeling a bit let down by the whole experience and a bit shortchanged too - this is an entirely personal gripe but I felt like my dietary needs weren't overly met. Staff meals consisted of leftovers, some days this was more sometimes far less as we weren't taken into consideration when it came to prep. Being pescatarian, I could always eat the sides but quite often no meat alternative would be left for me - even if we did have vegetarian guests. Being completely fair they did say they could buy something in for me and I declined, under the impression that I would be able to eat the vegetarian option offered to guests (rather than have to cook for myself after shift every day).
The 17th of august was the beginning of the end. We knew by this point that our time at work would be ending early, our contract was supposed to run to the 21st of September but there just wasn't many bookings past the 1st. We agreed to stay on till the 30th august, it was hit to the savings we'd hope to make but the snow was already melting so things weren't looking to change. With this in mind we decided to really make the most of it and get out on the mountain more. This Saturday, I decided not to go out - I was feel pretty worn out, the weather was pretty rubbish and I had a dinner shift that evening anyway, so Ben went by himself.
Two hours later he shuffled through the door, he was dripping wet, wide eyed and trembling. He'd had an accident. At first I misheard and thought he'd just seen an accident and was shook up - there'd been some nasty collisions over the season with broken bones and trips to the hospital - but he was shaking from pain not shock.
He had been at the top of the mountain, boarding along a run on its ridge when he hit a crater - a part of the run was gouged out as if someone had been making giant snowballs. Unable to stop in time, his board caught and he was flipped off the run, landing directly on a sawn off stump, before his board tangled in the trees and he stopped, upside down and a little stuck. Eventually, after a bit off wiggling to check all of his various parts still worked, he had the where-with-all to unclip the board hoping that it would help him escape the tree. It worked as far he could gingerly right himself, but now he had the problem that his board, somehow deftly slaloming around trees, was making it's way down the un-groomed mountainside. Luckily, it was eventually stopped by a tree and Ben, unsure how he would get down the other side of the mountain without it, set about convincing his battered body to retrieve it.
So he was hurt, but generally able to shuffle around. When he encountered one of our bosses he relayed the tale - saying that he might be out of commission for his shift the next day but I was happy to cover. This was met with no reaction, the man literally walked off without saying a word - top notch sympathy there. I got Ben settled into to bed, loaded him up with over the counter painkillers and went to do my shift. When I returned, things had progressed. Where Ben's back had landed on the tree was red, and welted and bruised but what worried us more was the swelling. A fluid sac was forming, right around the base of Ben's spine and it just didn't seem right. We explained the situation to our bosses and asked about the emergency doctor. Bizarrely, we were met with derisive scoffing and told that it's only for emergencies. I responded that that's what this is, rang the number, and the doctor was happy to see us asap. After what seemed like a sadistic amount of prodding, it was decided that Ben needed to visit the hospital - he could have possibly fractured his spine. Being snowbound wasn't easy and he was carted from one ambulance to another before eventually making it to the hospital at 2 in the morning. I stayed behind to cover his shift the next day.
Thankfully, his spine was intact but he had been bleeding internally and had earned himself a hematoma alongside various bruises. I cannot impart quite how worried I was. While Ben was away, the bosses couldn't have been nicer with sympathy and asking if there was anything they could do. He made the long journey back (an hour by car but pretty much all day by public transport) and continued work the next day - unable to pick things up but trying his best. Allowances were made for him not help with freight that week - I didn't realise at the time quite how generous this was (in their opinion).
Ten days after the accident Ben came up to me mid lunch shift. "Put the box down" he said "stop what your doing, we need to pack." I'd only been gone five minutes at most and so much had changed. While I had been carrying boxes up the hill, Ben was facing his own challenge. Out of no-where the managers had decided Ben was well enough for freight and weren't taking no for an answer - telling him to "just do it" when he said he wasn't comfortable due to the very painful back injury he was currently healing from. Unable to comprehend how someone would put their own health over a direct command Ben was promptly fired and told to get the next oversnow out. A strange thing for her to do on her time off while we were mid-shift, deciding Ben's worth was entirely in wether he could carry boxes up a hill. This was all the more ironic as they often mentioned how they would never demand someone get "the next oversnow out" and what a dick move it is.
While Ben packed and booked us somewhere to stay, I headed out in search of the transport manager for the resort - no oversnows were showing online and a two hour walk with all our stuff would be pretty difficult seeing as Ben couldn't really carry his backpack. Oversnow organised, we messaged to let them know we'd be gone soon, we were then reminded that we still needed to pay our bar bill. We entered the dining room, happy to pay and was met with a hostile atmosphere - the manager (not the one who had fired us) seemed almost angry that we weren't working, as if our being made jobless and homeless was instead an imposition on him. He also decided not to give us the promised discount on our bar tabs - how rude.
The most annoying thing about this was the timing, we literally only had four whole work days left until our contract was over. We were planning on staying another week, and they had somehow convinced us we would provide 15 hours free work in exchange for board (despite our contracts saying we could stay for 7 days after our last work day) so they were winning in that instance too. What's even stranger about the free work situation was a complete lack of transparency, first it was just a "few" hours then that was clarified to ten to fifteen and they refused to tell when or where these hours would be served - felt like we'd just be at their beck and call. Bullet dodged?
Originally, we had a greyhound booked for the 6th and flights to South Korea on the 8th but now we found ourselves cut loose with some time on our hands. Not the end of the world but this unprepared for free time could really cut into our funds if we didn't play things right. Thankfully we could change the bus dates, and we found a surprisingly cheap airbnb in a cool neighbourhood of Sydney - Jindabyne was a fine enough little town but I was ready to leave the whole area far behind.
I of course haven't mentioned everything, it would be a bore to read and go on forever. The everyday subtle negative comments and questions of competence i'll leave to fade in my memories rather than commit to text. I've tried to be as unbiased as possible and honestly, apart from being almost unable to comprehend how someone could lack that much empathy, i'm not bitter. Yes, we lost out on some money but i'm writing this while sitting in a cool airbnb in Sydney, doing exactly what I want while knowing that no-one is going to try and force Ben to hurt himself further for the sake of moving a few boxes. Life is good.
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