The day of a thousand euros

We'd barely hit the 24 hour mark after our 'safe snow driving' session with Boss, when a Swiss taxi reversed at great pace into our mini bus, which had, in the last minute, been filled up with our first clients of the season. "NoooooOOOOOOOO!" we all squelched as the crippling sound of metal grinding metal ostensibly tore down the side of the preciously immaculate bus. "For FUCK sake" Dan yelled, and as quickly as the foul words leapt out of his gob, he gasped + realised he'd cursed so loudly in front of our new family [over 50% of them under 7 years of age]. To cut a long and exhausting story short, we failed to get the details of this swish-swis-sch'wanker and had to break the news to the Bosses. A rightful rollicking was had, as we discovered we'd cost them a thousand bucks. As we ducked our heads in shame, we hoped that the ice we're standing on is as thick as the variety forming on the treacherous roods in our neighbourhood. On the plus side, our first guests seem to be absolutely tremendous, with gorgeous kids A N D a baby to coo-coo my way through the week with : Y E S S. And as training week draws to a close, it is now time to roll up our sleeves, get the toilet brushes at the ready and gather together our cagey knowledge of Chamonix as our ski season as we've anticipated it, has now begun.

P.S : The photo is of the dented car. Whoops.