I passed through the doors to the dining room while a young woman with a clipboard argued with an older gentleman in a bright yellow ski suit about breakfast being relocated to another part of the lodge, knowing it was very likely I wasn't supposed to be sneaking past her without checking in. Whoopsie, my bad. On the other side of the heavy curtain and crappy rear of a wall of plywood I was transported from the back side of what looked like a huge mess and into the polished and ...