Out of all the holidays that we celebrate, I personally believe that there is something rather intriguing about the one consisting of a day put aside to let that special person know just how much you care.

It can be no secret to anyone that knows me even slightly to know that I do not even need one hand to count the amount of Valentine’s Days I have spent in a loving relationship. Scrap that, not even a relationship, let alone a loving one. Put it this way, it is lucky that I do not have a particular fondness for the colour red, seeing as every traffic light party I have ever been to has consisted of me donning green from head to toe.

In the past, I have spent this day of love either drowning my sorrows with my other single pals or trying to act oblivious about the entirety of the day and ignore all those loved-up couples I cannot help but notice out of the corner of my eye.

I normally write about the woes of Dating in Devon.

Or even try my hand at explaining What love is.

This year, however, this day of love will be different.

Being forced under Doctor’s orders spend two weeks in rainy England recovering from my chest infection/pleurisy/whateveritwas has made me appreciate the opportunity I have been given to an even higher degree.

Who would have ever thought this time four years ago that I would be living the life I lead today. None of my past achievements will ever surpass what I have achieved in these past eight weeks. Running the marathon was nothing in comparison to the amount I have grown in such a short period of time through my life as a chalet girl.

Truth be told, so far this experience has been somewhat of a learning curve; with a vast amount of peaks and troughs along the way. I have belly laughed more than ever before, and yet I’ve cried my eyes out til the cows come home. I’ve met some people that will be life long friends, and others that are not ‘my cup of tea’. I’ve learnt life long lessons that will hopefully put me in better stead for the future, and been able to teach others at the same time.

Any of you that have watched “chalet girl” will probably have a rather misconceived perception about what chalet hosting is all about. But let me put you straight. Chalet hosting is hard work. One word (well two) that you never want to hear, as a chalet host, are “transfer day”. I have a feeling that these days will soon become known as twenty-four hour Sunday’s. 3am to 3am.

I was trying to explain to my sister the other day what it is like out here. The only way I could explain it was like this: each day is like five normal days at home. So much happens. The constant drama from fighting with the bed sheets to break ups and make ups is a force to be reckoned with.

But the thing is, is this.

Even with all the hard work, all the drama and all the everything else, I have fallen in love with being a chalet girl.

So this Valentine’s Day I will be loving getting home to La Plagne. I will be letting all my special people just how thankful I am to be sharing this opportunity with them. I will be spending my Valentine’s Day in the best loving relationship anyone can ask for, the kind where you know you are where you belong. The kind where love is not measured by the amount of red roses you receive. The kind where La Plagne is La Plagne.