We left our first home on Île d'Oleron at the end of July headed for nightmare camp aka german surf camp. It was so nuts there that we sent out sos messages and left three weeks early. I know from over there in comfy America it sounds like I am being a big baby and you’re probably right but I still think we did the right thing here.
First of all forget everything you think you know about Germans (efficient and organized etc etc). When we arrived to the train station we bumped into another couple of backpackers headed to the same campsite as us and shared a taxi. They were a chill Italian-Argentinian couple on their third year of travel. On the way there we found out that they were headed to go4surf too, what a coincidence! And they were staff for the month of august, wow what are the odds!! And they are the chefs, woah no way so are we!! huh…. Ya so we got there and find out they double booked our positions as chefs and then kind of brushed it off and blamed us all for the mistake. And then said they would to let the four of us decide which two would have to leave. The caveat being that in the meantime we would have to share a surfboard, and wetsuits, and there probably wouldn’t be enough bikes and btw the beach is 6km away. ~But~ the next day found out they had a full camp to feed the first week so we could all cook together for now and would decide at the end of the week who would go. Thank the gods. The kitchen was a tent and we had fifty germans to feed. John and I went into it thinking we would outwork our ‘competition’ and be the ones to stay. We could take lead and plan the meals and reorganize and set up a structure in the kitchen. And we did. But it turns out that we really got along with giorgia and javier and needed them as much as they needed us. So together we’re cooking 12 kilos of meat per meal with 5 sides in a tent with a small oven, three working mini fridges, one broken mini fridge, a stove with two burners, and a griddle. And actually it was really fun…at first. Really long really hot exhausting hours but every meal felt like one of the best things I’ve cooked and was usually something the germs had never tasted before (side note: seeing people eat their very first rice krispie treat is a truly magical thing especially when you put peanut butter in it) The energy we got from cooking was alllllmost enough to get us through but it just didn’t and in the end we were just too exhausted to surf or to learn any of the things we came here for. And really the main thing was that the germans were just kind of jerks. Generally ungrateful people and made no effort to include anyone that wasn’t german (and I know it’s a small thing but they had no understanding of health code in a kitchen whatsoever and after a trimester of culinary school that freaked me out!!) And every night after hours of working we slept in a tent that backed up against the bar tent and the cinema tent and even headphones and sleep masks can’t help that kind of thing. And it was a million degrees the whole time. So after a week we just realized we weren’t growing or learning or happy and chose to solve their overstaffing problem by running away at the first chance. I cried a little when I read the email from Sebastien that said we could come back to Île d'Oleron tbh bc it meant there was hope for happiness again. So we hiked out early in the morning eight days after we arrived and caught a bus to a train to another bus and eventually hitched our way back to our home on the magic island again. (big shoutout to the really nice french couple that gave two tired dead looking americans a ride) We were greeted by hugs and kisses and a caravan of our own and just like that we were home again.
And that’s the full circle. Despite all of the complaining, looking back on it I really had a good time on the days we did spend surfing and the afternoons at the pool. So it wasn’t all bad. But I lost my favorite jacket, so it’s still mostly bad.
baratheonpilled
dailybridgerton
izzy806
titsay
snowghoul
pixelskylines
