The Truth About Working for Seasonal Tour Operators…

Dancers, actors, performers, and travellers — this one’s for you.

Some names and titles have been changed for privacy and confidentiality purposes.

Trust me, I understand the allure of leaving everything behind for a couple months, staying in a foreign country on someone else’s dime, and getting paid to be there. That’s the marketing of seasonal tour operators and end suppliers to hire new crew.

And that was part of my thought process for accepting a position as Tour Guide in the Arctic Circle in Lapland, Finland. My contract was from November 22 - December 29, 2023, and I led families on coach tours to find the elusive Santa Claus in his real home of northern Finland.

I did, indeed, find Santa (many, many times over the course of that month), and I also found a plethora of gossip, betrayal, backstabbing, substance abuse, and overall disrespect. It was… eye-opening, to say the least.

I’ve thought a lot about whether or not to share these words, and I believe it’s worth it to give a heads-up. For anyone considering a seasonal tenure abroad, it’s not all fun and games.

Hear me out.

What is seasonal work?

In the field of tourism, seasonal work refers to jobs that hire only for a busy period of time. If you’re working a seasonal job, you are “on season.”

There are also longer contracted jobs (eg. year by year) that aren’t necessarily seasonal but still maintain the same base structure as seasonal work. Think theme park performers.

Most seasonal workplaces abroad offer free accommodation, meals, and/or a daily stipend in addition to work wages. Round trip airfare and company insurance are usually included, with possible bonus incentives.

For these reasons, seasonal work is extremely popular with dancers, actors, and performers. They can save money where the performing arts economy is so threadbare elsewhere.

A lesser-known incentive is that seasonal work provides unique opportunities for long-distance couples to spend time together. They’ll share the same accommodation if requested. Even couples who aren’t long-distance go the mile (literally) to share these jobs.

However, seasonal work also has extremely high turnover and dropout rates. Many applicants are students waiting for college acceptances. Though you may be put on a waitlist, there’s a very good chance you’ll make it in if you stick it out.

Note: This does not apply to hostel work, which often provides free accommodation in exchange for unpaid labour.

The interview process

This operator (let’s call them Secret Santa) books December holiday tours, so positions include tour guides, character performers, field staff, and hospitality. They have several bases in Lapland; it was a total surprise which one I’d be assigned to.

The interview process was the same as any other job. The only caveat was that roles were already filled, despite it only being June, so I was put on the waitlist.

They also headquarter in the UK. I paid $500 for my own flight to the UK. From there, flights were covered to and from London. I shelled out again for my return flight to Canada.

Perhaps my first warning should’ve been the fact that someone I knew had applied for this same tour operator and ultimately rejected them.

She was actually the one who introduced me to this company, being an actress friend of an actor friend who had done this before. Let’s call her Betty.

Betty sent me the link for Secret Santa because I’d talked to her about wanting to earn my way while travelling. She’d previously worked at Universal and had in’s with this kind of stuff.

She also sent me a screenshot of an email she got from the company organizers, the reason why she didn’t accept their offer last year. In the email, the manager starts off pleasant-sounding and quickly digresses into an aggressive spiel about limiting alcohol intake and guest feedback. Even as I agreed about not over-drinking, I did fine their tone a bit questionable. In the end, I consoled myself that this probably wouldn’t affect me because I rarely drank at all. Betty hoped so, too, and wished me luck.

My mother opposed my going, citing that this sort of work would neither help my career nor provide adequate conditions. Now, I wouldn’t say that I didn’t learn a lot — because I did — but everything I learned was probably different from what both she and I imagined.

Hoping to keep travelling, I wanted to go no matter what. So when the notice came that someone had dropped out, and there was a spot for me, I signed the contract immediately.

The first week

Fast forward to November, and I’d spent a week in London before meeting the rest of the team for our charter jet to Lapland. I was happy, self-assured, and excited.

That first week was spent in training and “sussing each other out,” as someone put it. It was a chill time, and everyone was in a good mood. My cabin mates presented nice, and I saw glorious Finnish landscapes.

The first major red flag came when we were getting lifts back to our cabins one night, and one of the guys in the van chattered about his tryst with a girl the previous night.

I listened on in amusement. I thought they were having some innocent (as much as it could be) fun. Or so I thought.

I found out later that he had a girlfriend already, and she was working in one of the nearby resorts. My cabin mate Ashlyn nonchalantly explained that “people do anything on season,” while mentioning that all the guys she’d met so far had already cheated on their partners back home.

And here this guy was, proclaiming his sexual adventures for all to hear in the bliss of not having his girlfriend around.

I couldn’t get behind it.

But I still had to work with the dude. So, I kept my disapproval to myself and treated him as a polite acquaintance, sharing safe jokes when called for. Even if he knew I knew, he wouldn’t have cared. His infidelity was public knowledge at that point, probably of his own accord.

If I thought that was the worst of it, I was severely wrong.

Because it was only the start of something bigger, and that was…

The gossip

Imagine Mean Girls (2004) but with your high school, college, and office experiences combined — oh, and the boys and managers are in on it. That’s how bad the gossip was.

What goes around comes around, and our particular group felt this to the extreme for several reasons:

We were the most remote location. Trees for miles.
The closest town was a 45-minute car ride away.
There were only about 200 of us, and grouped into our individual teams, we saw the same 12 faces all day, every day, 24/7.
There was allegedly “nothing else to do.”

Rather than read a book or get some much-needed sleep, people opted to get wasted and have orgies (I’m serious) whenever they could. Drinking, having sex, and smoking were the top 3 activities. The gossip mill never stopped churning.

One couple separated, got back together within a week, and then got engaged.

The cheating boy from before was witnessed yelling at his girlfriend in public one day.

If anything, it was a great study in human nature. Psychologists would go to town here.

I’ll admit, at first, it was interesting to hear what the others were up to, especially those we didn’t see often. But I soon learned the hard way that even anything I said — no matter how trivial — got passed around like wildfire.

After a particularly bad burn (see “The First Betrayal” below), I decided to play an experiment. I’d bought a bottle of Tabasco sauce from the supermarket one day, and I started toting it around in my backpack for meals. While a couple of us were in the back, I waved it around, purposely drawing attention to it. Three days later, one of the managers — who hadn’t even been in the room at the time — came in with a bottle of Tabasco sauce, saying it’d been left on one of the restaurant tables.

“I saw it, and I thought this must be [your’s]!” He laughed.

I disappointed him with my answer, and silently remarked to myself the absurdity of it all. Tabasco sauce. Really? People thought that was important enough to feed it to management?

The thing is, even if you don’t engage in any social activities or communications, the gossip and rumours will still find their way to you… and maybe be about you. People can be selfish like that. There’s a social system you simply can’t extricate yourself from in these environments.

The gossip wasn’t only about staff. Unfortunately, many performers took to bashing their guests out of earshot.

It’s complicated. While I shook my head at some of the horrible things that were said, I also knew the performers had it rough. They shivered long hours in the cold, endured snowballs to the face, and relied on junk food for fuel.

A cabin mate who’d worked on cruise ships for 6 years told me it’s the exact same onboard. Whatever you say one night will be common knowledge by the next morning.

“Everyone’s a snake,” A manager had expressed to her after a burn of her own.

If condiments are the extent of the gossiping, consider yourself lucky. There are far worse things people can spread about you, and after some unfortunate incidents on the receiving end, I vowed to myself not to participate in any more drama if I could help it.

I rejected every suspicious social gathering.

Drinks, games, and quizzes at Cabin 6 about everyone’s first loves? NOPE.

It sounds kind of sad, but this is how I had to protect myself, which brings me to…

The first betrayal

Everyone wants to make friends abroad, or at least I did.

During training week, I found myself mingling with a certain posse, which included one of my cabin mates and fellow tour guide. While I also branched out and spent time with others, the group of us often ate meals together and even went out for an impromptu snowball fight in the chilling field at 11 PM. That was a great night, and I thought I’d found people I could trust in for the season.

By the end of the first work week, we were all overworked, exhausted, and quite plainly miserable. By the next week, I’d already caught a cold and had just barely recovered from it. I voiced my complaints at the table one day during one of our rare breaks, expecting the others to agree with me. (See “Work & wages” below, and then decide if I was reasonable in my complaints or not).

To my utter confoundment, the others not only looked at me like I’d grown three heads, they asserted that this was an amazing job compared to some others, with food and board provided. Besides, the hours weren’t so bad once we got used to it. One of the opposition was a 50-year-old woman too.

We left that debate uncomfortably, but I thought that’d be the end of it. Who hasn’t had a work rant with friends?

That same evening, I received a ridiculously long text essay from my manager about how disappointed he was in me, how he thought I’d have a better work ethic, and all these other things that “somebody” had told him.

I was blindsided. I am many things, but a “poor work ethic” is not what people use to describe me.

To his credit, he also tacked on at the end that he knew this intel might’ve been skewed and asked if I had anything to say. I simply texted back that I’d have a talk with him next time I was in.

I sat down in his office the next day, and he invited me to tell my side of the story.

The main point of dispute from my anonymous tattler was that I’d said, “I’m definitely going to take as many days off as possible,” in lieu of a recent management decision to let us all take a personal day, regardless of sickness. And with my prior sickness and not wanting to get sick again, I thought they’d understand where I was coming from. After all, we all had the same under-eye circles and increasing coughs. I wasn’t the only one who needed time away.

Instead, they took this to mean I was a “lazy-ass b*tch” — in my manager’s reiteration — who wanted to not work and still get paid.

I explained my side to everything in the text and told him in an act of respect to myself that I know my skills, I know my work ethic, and I will not allow anyone, not even him, say I’m not a hard worker.

My manager didn’t believe I was a lazy bum either. So far, no guest had complained about me, which told something. Now that he’d heard my side, he would go back to this person and tell them to back off.

But he also warned me of several things:

That we were there to work, not play.
I’d known these people for 5 minutes; they’re not my friends.
I shouldn’t trust anyone. He doesn’t even trust his team leaders he’s worked with for 5 years.
I shouldn’t have to feel like I’m walking on eggshells. But, be aware that just as I can say whatever I want, others can twist whatever I say how they want.
I need to protect myself.

I told him I find it contradictory that we’re supposed to be the dream team they keep talking about when we can’t trust each other. He said no, people can still work together to get the job done regardless of trust or friendship.

It deeply disappointed me to hear this. This wasn’t the work ideal I wanted, but I could see his logic, even if I didn’t approve.

He also told me my next step shouldn’t be to go out and point fingers at who may have told on me. It’s settled; it’s over. But I didn’t need to do any investigating. I saw him speaking to someone afterwards. That night, said person unfollowed me on Instagram.

Good riddance.

One thing’s for sure: nobody needs fake friends.

Later, on a call, my mom told me my manager was right. Work is work. It’s not the place to develop honest friendships. But she did say it’s good that I was there to experience it for myself; otherwise, I wouldn’t believe anything she says about jobs like this.

As for the snitch? I talked to him for work purposes only, and we kept up a front for our guests. Otherwise, we both discontinued contact with each other. By season’s end, there were no harsh feelings, but a possible friendship was long gone.

Know that you always have a choice of who you interact with. Nobody is forcing you to befriend everyone.

Lesson: Stick to your values, but learn to protect yourself. Don’t be the tattle-tale unless it involves safety or mental health, and if you do tell, take responsibility for the consequences.

True relationships take time. Keep the secrets to yourself until you’re sure of the other party’s commitment and trustworthiness.

Work & wages

Here’s an example of my typical workday:

6:30 AM - 7:00 AM— Get up and walk to work.

7:00 AM - 8:00 AM — Breakfast. Talk to the guests. Only grab food when the guests have gotten theirs.

8:00 AM - 12:30 PM — Activities part I

12:30 PM - 1:30 PM — Lunch. Talk to the guests. Only grab food when the guests have gotten theirs.

1:30 PM - 5:00 PM — Activities part II

5:00 PM - 6:00 PM — Guests return to their rooms for a break. We work on paperwork for the next tour.

6:00 PM - 7:00 PM — Dinner. Talk to the guests. Only grab food when the guests have gotten theirs.

7:00 PM - 7:30 PM — Guests take a break. We prep for the party.

7:30 PM - 9:30 PM — Party and celebrations.

9:30 PM - 11:00 PM — Walk home and continue paperwork.

11:00 PM — Go to sleep.

We were working 16 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no day off unless we were sick.

We got paid a seasonal rate of 1397 GBP, which works out to around 3 GBP/hr for 16 hours each day. For reference, the minimum wage in the UK is 6.40 GBP for under-18’s and 11.44 GBP for 21’s and over, which most of us were.

Source: National Minimum Wage and National Living Wage rates - GOV.UK (www.gov.uk)

Each tour spanned 3 days: half-day arrival, full-day activities, and half-day departure. We Tour Guides were with our guests ALL. THE. TIME. We were barely allowed to take meal breaks to ourselves because management expected us to be talking up our guests and interacting with them (they called us out if we didn’t).

As soon as one group departed at the airport, we turned around and welcomed the arriving group. Kuusamo Airport is small, and the Arrival and Departure gates are in the same room.

Shocking? I hope you think so.

Illegal? Probably.

How did it get to this point? Why would anyone accept work under these conditions?

The answer is simple: we didn’t know.

The managers tried to gaslight us when complaints started to stream in, saying that we were told in our interviews about the hours and pay. They also said we’re paid based on days worked.

Not exactly. We were only told it’d be “long hours” in our interviews. From communal intel, it’s clear nobody knew that meant 16 hours a day. Our contract stipulated an amount based on the full season. There was no fine print saying we were paid by the day. (If you drop out midway, that’s a different issue.)

My interviewer told me the work day started around 9 or 10 AM and ended at around 7 PM, completely cutting out the time needed to get up, get to work, and/or complete additional work from home after the day’s ended.

The tour guides had it the roughest on this end because we had to deal with copious amounts of paperwork — seating charts, schedules, scripts, Santa Slips, etc. — work that could only be done after-hours once we’d dropped guests off at their rooms or during mealtimes.

At the end of every Activity Day, there was also a mandatory party. If you were a single guide, you’d have to spend every two days partying it up. If you were paired up, one of you could take an early night every alternating party but at the side-eye of your peers and managers.

That meant, on paper, we were done at 7 PM, but we really finished work at 10 or 11 PM. Then we had to wake up at 6:30 AM to be there for breakfast with the guests.

We weren’t allowed to get our food until all our guests had gotten theirs (as an opposite example, if you’re part of crew on a film set, crew always eats first).

It was actual hell.

I’ve worked plenty of 16+ hour shifts before thanks to my work as a stagehand, and while they were exhausting, they were bearable for some simple reasons:

They paid well (or, at the very least, the minimum wage).
The temperatures weren’t too extreme.
You have workers’ rights, and, for union workers, extra protections.
And the most important reason: We. Got. Breaks. — Breaks that are standardized by law.

One of the things my table mates said during our debate (see above) is that 16 hours is “normal for the entertainment industry.” I don’t deny that performers and stagehands are often working 16+ hours, but it comes with the assumption (and legal right) that those 16 hours include mandated breaks. Even then, it depends on what kind of entertainment you’re working in that would constitute such long hours.

Film industry? Definitely. But they’re pretty strict about proper rest time.

Contemporary dancers? You’re definitely not dancing 16 hours straight.

Cruise performers? Harder to draw the line because their work place is their home place, but at least they don’t have to be “on” and in visible sight of their guests during breaks.

I’m going to call it: it was modern slavery.

The managers went on a lot about abiding by Finnish drinking and driving laws because we were operating on Finnish land, but nobody seemed to care about employment laws.

I’m no law expert, but I’m sure Finland isn’t cruel enough to let their workers go 16 hours without a break. Here’s their official website: Rest periods and breaks - Tyosuojelu.fi - Occupational Safety and Health Administration.

The reason it’s hard to call fault in this situation is because if anyone asked, the managers could easily have said we got ample break time with our meals (one hour for breakfast, lunch, and dinner each). There’s nothing on paper that proves they wanted us to continue interacting with guests during mealtimes, which to me seems like work.

That’s why it’s so important to document anything fishy. Writing, screenshotting, recording yourself — document it all. Even a case of he said/she said becomes much more accurate and believable when it’s taken down as soon as possible, and you’ll have a record on hand if any need arises.

Lesson: Many tour operators and travel employers take advantage of young people who don’t know their legal rights and labour laws to get them to work for abysmal pay in harsh conditions. Food and board may sound like great reciprocal offerings, but those should be the bare minimum they provide for overseas work, not the icing on the cake they want you to believe they are. Also, the food can be pretty terrible (see below).

A good tip to see through a company’s reputation (courtesy of my mom) is to check where they hire from. If they need to go globally scouting for employees, that’s a potential red flag.

Food & accommodation

The tour guides’ accommodations were pretty nice. We got our own snowy cabins in groups of 4-6. Each cabin included a sauna, fully equipped kitchen, living room with fireplace and TV, two private bedrooms, and one upper loft that functioned as another (shared) bedroom.

The character performers were allocated to huge cabins far away from the hotels, so nobody would accidentally see their favourite elf without makeup and dress. Their meals had to be brought to them since they weren’t allowed to step outside. From what I heard, it was definitely squished in there, and in this case, the tour guides got the better end of the stick.

The food, unfortunately, was far from Michelin-worthy. I’m not talking about the food they served at the hotels, which had their own up and down days. I’m talking about the junk food and snacks management brought us for the cabins. There wasn’t a single truly healthy thing except for some greens juices and milk. Otherwise, it was Twix bars, cup noodles, and hot chocolate powder.

I love a good chocolat chaud in moderation, but nobody wants to be eating so much sugar all the time. The hotels hadn’t opened for business yet the first week, so we were stuck with the noodles.

I had the privilege of going to town every 2 days to send off the departing tour group, and I spent more than half the little money I made to buy groceries for myself.

The performers had it worse. Unlike the guides, who only had to deal with the junk food for the first week and then could eat the guest hotel food. The performers and field workers had to rely on the cup noodles for shifts outside. Carbs will definitely help you out in subzero cold, but I still stick to my belief that a high-quality protein bar would’ve served them better than Twix’s.

Lesson: You’ll likely be spending your hard-earned money on expenses you didn’t think you’d need. Ask clearly beforehand what kind of food and supplies they provide. Be specific. Don’t let them off the hook at, “Food will be provided.”

The roommate arguments

Cabin mates, actually, but the same logic applies.

Living with 3 strangers under one roof who you work with introduced to me a whole new world of exasperation. Roommate arguments are real, tried, and feared. As opposed to a shared room or mini-suite, a full house allows for possibilities that go beyond office work or movie night.

Anyone can be pleasant when they’re well-rested and not seeing each other 24/7, but once the stress kicked in, it was arguments at every turn.

Considering some other cabins’ drama, we actually had it light. But there were still pissed-off annoyances about volume, sleep, room-sharing, and even sex.

One night, when I was feeling my lowest, I let the petty beast out. The other girls were having a late-night giggle fest in the room next to mine, so I went over and first asked them tiredly to keep it down. They understandably agreed and asked if I wanted to join them, but I declined. I could still hear their voices, though. To be honest, it wasn’t a big deal, and I knew that. I was simply at a point when anything irked me, and I needed to vent my frustrations somehow.

So, against my better judgement, I texted what I thought was another friend about my cabin mates’ “annoying” antics.

But the worst side of me bared my fangs the next morning, when I purposely called out two of my cabin mates’ possible (and loud) sexual adventures in the shower the previous night, in addition to their late-night girl talk that kept me up. In the staff room were the third cabin mate and one unrelated girl, who listened in with wide, bulging eyes and a sharp look of interest that should’ve served as my pre-warning.

The third cabin mate was obviously not pleased (though, dare I defend myself, she’d been a huge blabbermouth about me too). Whether or not it was her or the other girl who passed this along didn’t matter.

By the time I next met my cabin mates, they were noticeably cold toward me and avoided any and all contact.

I was ready to leave the whole job at this point. I ended up in the passenger seat of my manager’s car, tears streaming, saying I’d had enough. He took a long, drawn-out puff on his cigarette and asked if there was anything I wanted to try to change my mind. (I wasn’t even surprised when he brought up the whole cabin mate fiasco; nothing got past him, though his knowledge of the details was murky, and I didn’t elaborate.)

Long story short, I told him I’d be willing to try again if he moved me to the other team. I also made up with my cabin mates after several unsuccessful attempts at knocking on their door, explaining my state of mind with complete vulnerability. Fortunately, the two cabin mates had been in similar environments many times on cruise ships, so they understood when I said I didn’t feel like myself here, and it was affecting my behaviour. They let me go with forgiveness and a hug.

Lesson: What goes around comes around. Don’t say anything you might regret later, and especially not about the people close to you. If the fault is yours, apologize if you can (with honesty!), but whether or not you’re forgiven is out of your hands.

The managers

One thing I did notice that I have respect for was my peers’ and managers’ willingness to chew each other out. It sounds strange, but after living in Canada for so many years (I stand by my belief that most corporate politeness in Toronto is just passive aggressiveness), it was almost refreshing to be in a group that didn’t shy away from sticking the middle finger out at… anything, really.

I didn’t join in the expletives, but I considered if maybe I had more leverage to call people out on their BS than I always thought I did.

The managers fielded complaint after complaint as a result of this “openness,” and the speed at which they dealt with issues was quite impressive.

That being said, the managers were still in on the action with gossip (it’s how they rein everyone in), and I didn’t tell them anything unless I had to.

There was too much blur between management and staff. It’s nice if you’re best friends with your manager, but friendship and power imbalances rarely go well together. To his credit, my manager did keep my woes about someone he was familiar with to himself. He said he could’ve resolved it if only I’d spoken up earlier. Nevertheless, don’t count on every manager to be like this.

You have more power than you think. Especially in a small team, they can’t afford to lose anyone (cruise ships — not so much). Speak up if something is bothering you.

Lesson: Know your own worth. Charge what you deserve.

The guests

I hate to be writing this, but the guests were a handful as well.

Working in customer service is always a gamble. Those who’ve been living the high life for too long often forget to give thanks for the people and details that make their lives possible.

In training, we learned that the cost of one of our tours was the equivalent of a 7-day all-inclusive vacation in a sun destination (i.e. our guests were either wealthy or had saved up for years to be here).

You’d think a population like that would be ready to embrace the snowy Arctic if they chose us over a nice, sunny beach.

The entitlement we witnessed from some guests was unbelievable. One elderly lady grumbled that there wasn’t even a coffee shop. In the remote Arctic? I would imagine not.

Too many of the grown-ups stayed glued to their phones throughout the tour, even with their kids by their side. The changing landscapes didn’t seem to interest them. Unless they were capturing memories with their devices, we practically had to wrangle them off the coach to play.

I fully admit the conditions were tough. Anyone who’s not used to subzero winters will be met with a rude awakening, which is why I cannot stress enough the importance of doing your own research before a trip. Your travel agent will do anything to sell you that package. You have to make sure for yourself that a) you’re in appropriate shape to take on environmental challenges, b) you’ll be ready to take full advantage of the fun if you go, and c) you have a refund policy or travel insurance.

One elderly family came two weeks after a member’s knee surgery because they’d already booked the trip in advance, and they weren’t able to participate fully in many activities. The Artic Circle is not for the faint of heart (or body).

For tips on dressing for the Arctic, see: [article coming soon].

This is not to say the guests were horrible. Most of them were polite and had great fun once they adapted to the cold, and we made many beautiful memories with them. The above behaviours are just some examples you might encounter as an employee in tourism.

Lesson: Tour guides, operators, and end suppliers can do all they want to appease you, but ultimately it’s up to you to have the time of your life.

The demographic

A lot of the arguments and petty remarks came from cultural and, perhaps, educational differences.

This company is based in the UK, so the employees were 95% UK-based. The guests on tour also came from these same areas. The few international workers came from Ireland, Australia, Greece, Spain, and Canada (me). (This doesn’t include the local Finnish drivers, who were lovely.)

On top of that, I was only one of 2 POC workers there, the other being a girl who’d been raised in the UK.

You’ll meet a lot of people when you travel, but working with people from a culture you have no familiarity with is a different ballgame. Ask your interviewer about the exact demographic; it may affect your comfort level in going.

One girl shamed me relentlessly for mixing different cereals together. I didn’t care, but I did appreciate when her boyfriend defended me when he saw. “Isn’t that what you’d do with a smoothie?” Thank you. My cereal’s not hurting anyone.

Lesson: When you’re working with an international crew, be aware of cultural sensitivities. Disagree if you want, but it may be better to keep it to yourself. Sometimes, like my cereal case, it’s not even a cultural thing; it’s just a personal preference.

You’ll learn the people you can’t work with

If there’s anything to be gained from such an experience, it’s that you’ll become intimately familiar with the kind of people you can’t work with.

During training, my younger cabin mate Ashlyn asked if I wanted to be paired together. Secretly, I wanted to go solo, and I’d impressed the higher-ups already with my practice tour speech, but I could tell she was a bit nervous about the role, and I figured having a partner for the first few tours would probably be a good idea. I said sure.

Surprise! The manager didn’t pair us up because he knew that friends are not necessarily the best work buddies. Secretly, I was glad. I didn’t want to spend 24/7 with her.

But remember that 50-year-old woman from the betrayal situation? Let’s call her Penny. She became my first partner, and that first tour (a Make-a-Wish one, no less) ended in my bawling my eyes out to my parents over video call after keeping up smiles all day.

It wasn’t all her. That Make-a-Wish tour was brutal. But it was obvious Penny and I didn’t fit from the start. During prep, she took the work away from me. During the tour, I always relayed last-minute updates to her, while she never did the same for me, leaving me in the dark about why we were doing certain things.

We also didn’t share the same humour. During one of my jokes to the group, Penny shut me down because she wasn’t listening and didn’t understand the joke. That was a major no-no, and I had no smooth way of bouncing back from that in front of my audience.

I didn’t have a problem with her personally. We’d had several lovely conversations before, but whether it was due to cultural differences or age gaps or something else, the fact was she and I did not work well together.

Ashlyn took a sick delight in fanning the flames. She’d apparently heard both sides of the story, and Penny had taken an equally unforgiving stance about me. (Though Ashlyn at first only told me she knew and then refused to give details. Yeah. She’s that type.)

I explained politely and in very broad terms why I was upset when Penny asked, and she gave a patronizing, “Well, I’m sorry you’re upset” in response. You can’t please everyone.

I should’ve mentioned it when I felt something was off, but I’ve never been good at bringing up problems. It feels invasive and a betrayal of trust (though, clearly, nobody there really cared about trust).

The manager promptly switched us up, so that my next few tours were with Ashlyn as we originally requested. We made a good team, at least until the Roommate Arguments and The Betrayal tore us apart.

Even before the disagreements, Ashlyn came back after a couple solo tours to say she’d realized she works better alone after all.

Similarly, another partner I was put with just did not care about her role, yet still needed to be the person in charge. That was a painfully awkward tour to sit through.

Finally, finally, when I got to manage some tours on my own, I did a great job, if I do say so myself. One of my later partners questioned why I even needed to be paired up in the first place.

Which brings me to the most important lesson I learned…

Just say no

There’s a time for compromise and a time to stand your ground, and more often than not, saying “no” will be your best friend in seasonal positions. You’ve really got nothing to lose except maybe a measly bonus for underwhelming “teamwork.”

Don’t want to share your role with a partner? Just say no. (They might be offended at first, but it won’t take long for them to grow their own wings).

Don’t want to share your originally private room with a newcomer? Just say no. (That’s your manager’s problem.)

Lesson: As harsh as it sounds, you’ll probably never speak to or meet most of these people again, so there’s really no harm in saying no to anything you don’t want to do. Of course, this also goes for drinking, partying, and sex. Say no; stay true to yourself.

Social media

Be careful of social media on season. Don’t post anything you wouldn’t want blasted on the front page of the Wall Street Journal, and don’t post anything against company regulations.

Another reason for the toxicity in the tourism industry is that staff — and particularly performers — are often not allowed to show anything behind the scenes or talk about their jobs at all. Because it’s not a job. That really is Tinker Bell over there. Understand?

And if you can’t show off on social media, who are you going to talk to? The people around you.

I’ve apparently broken the posting rules one time, albeit without knowing I couldn’t post a particular image. The way I — and the managers — found out was that a girl I’d met briefly one time requested to follow me on Instagram. I was already very private with my account, and I didn’t let many people in, but I decided I’d give her a chance and maybe make a new friend.

Next thing I knew, my team leader pulled me aside and ordered me to delete the 9th image in my 10-image carousel on my private account. My team leader, who wasn’t on my followers list…

I removed the girl from my account ASAP.

Lesson: Only trust your personal social accounts to your closest of friends and family. Anyone else may not have the best intentions. Alternatively, don’t post anything that might trigger unwanted attention.

You’ll meet the best and worst people

As much as I might’ve scared you off seasonal work by now, it is possible to meet some really great people on the job. It took me more than half the season to find them, but it turns out the best people were right next door to me.

They worked for the other hotel, which is why I rarely saw them. Once I transferred over, my relief was immense when it became clear they also disapproved of the hours, wages, and petty drama with a passion — though the way they dealt with the drama was by embracing it fully.

They confirmed to me what I’d felt all along: that this was a toxic environment. And one of the red flags of a toxic environment is when you question your own judgment. Is it just me? Am I the only one? No, honey, you’re being gaslit.

Everyone deals with toxicity in different ways, and for some people, that means hopping onto the bandwagon.

On the bright side, it almost forces you to grow up because you’re faced with consequences of your own making (or not) in an isolated bubble. I could’ve left, and that would’ve been fine, but I got a lot more personal growth from sticking it out and resolving my conflicts.

And when things got too hard, I had the girls next door to hear me out. Because the number one worst thing is feeling like you have no one to talk to.

(Also, one of the girls very admirably called her tour partner to tell him to “f*ck off” and, “I will smile with you at the party, but I don’t like you,” after an incidentally miserable tour where he’d spread untrue rumours about her to staff and management. Girl kicked butt. She’s also studying to be a lawyer.)

Lesson: It may take a while, but your true crew is out there. And don’t be afraid to call people out on their bullsh*t.

Lessons learned

Summary:

Stick to your values but learn to protect yourself.
Know your legal rights and local employment laws.
Set money aside for unexpected circumstances.
What goes around really does come around. Be careful what you say.
When you’re working with an international crew, be aware of cultural sensitivities.
Just say no to anything you’re not comfortable with.
Only trust your personal social accounts to your closest of friends and family.
You will resonate with certain people and not with others. Be patient in friendship.

My experience was a markedly extreme one due to the weather, remote location, and unfamiliar culture, but the situations I’ve laid out can happen in any type of enclosed environment.

This goes for Disney and Universal theme parks, cruise ships, resorts like Tui’s Holiday Villages, and other tour operators. Teaching English abroad and even volunteer work (those placements with food and board provided) are other potential brewing grounds. Some of these placements may have better work conditions (for example, hosts at resorts may only have to work evening shows), but the same lessons apply.

There is still value in trying one of these seasonal escapades out. The Finnish Arctic Circle itself was gorgeous, and I saw some amazing natural phenomena in the landscape.

This article serves as a warning. If you’ve made it this far, I hope you understand now there’s rarely such a thing as a free lunch.

I have no lingering resentment because everything had been settled back there. I’m glad to say that when I think back on this time, I picture the beautiful landscapes first, the cheerful children, and the good times we did have. I appreciate the fond memories I have even of people whose relationship with me turned sour later.

So, what’s the final truth? The truth is many people who sign up for travel work abroad are looking for an easy time to drink and fool around.

It takes a great amount of resilience to do work like this, and I only suggest you think it through and figure out what you want to achieve by going.

No amount of travel is worth breaking your back over pennies and a toxic environment.

Your wellbeing is what’s going to take you far and wide.