The poshest man in Meribel

There are a lot of posh people in Ski resorts. But Sir T was the poshest of the lot. It took this confused 19 year old several weeks to get over the fact that he would be spending the next 6 months living in very close confines with so many Northerners. I think he expected to be over the other side of the mountain mixing with the rich Russians but unfortunately he got us.

Sir T did spend a lot of the first few weeks a bit bewildered and not understanding anything any northerner said to him. It took him sometime before I got him to understand that I wasn't from a family of miners. He did, however discover a love of cleaning windows. He could and would clean them all day and take a total pride in it. When the child carers painted pictures on the windows he was apoplectic and he waited all season to wash it off. When they went on the last day of the season the relief on his face was obvious. It was like he had been counting down the days till his windows could be clean again.

Now he could be a bit of a sulker. In set up week H1 gave him a wedgie and he was furious all day and wouldn't speak to her. He once, over breakfast said that all northerners refer to penises as todgers. All the northerners laughed and started referring to Sir T as todger. He did not like that one single bit. He stormed out of breakfast to do his cleaning.

Sir T's main worry however was that he wasn't being fed enough. And boy could he put away food. As tall as a lamp post and skinny to boot (good skinny though not anorexic skinny) he cut an impressive figure and to were constantly physically looking up to him. And he was obsessed with food. He loved it. It made him happy.

Sir T once told me it was his life long ambition to be a Morris dancer. And he said this totally seriously. He said he had always loved them as they came to his village all the time but he couldn't join because he couldn't grow a beard good enough yet. I actually cracked up at this point. I had no idea whether to believe him or not. I still don't, though I like to think of him Morris dancing. It makes me happy.

He was like that though, he could tell bizarre stories with a totally deadpan face and you would believe them. Well almost always. I once found out he had brought a girl back to the staff accom the night before; 'is she still there' I asked, 'no she isn't, she went last night, she most certainly isn't still there'
'sir t! Is she still there'
'err yes'.
He had, upon bringing the girl home and realising his room mate was in, made her have sex in the corridor. Now I would like to meet the girl who actively wants to have sex in a corridor which is covered in bin bags, empty beer bottles, ski gear and into which the toilet leaks. Sir T is obviously worth a great deal of discomfort. Esp as anyone could ( and did) walk out at any time. He justified himself saying that he did give her a blanket to lay on ( well that's ok then!)

I must admit I really loved him. When he needed to be he was, kind, helpful and really cared about people. And he was the only original who never got a disciplinary for being late.