Arrival day

My sprightly little red VW winds its way down the mossy Irish lane to the sign pointing me to Ballymaloe Cookery School.

A chicken runs across my path and I hear the sound of barking and quickly break to  see a bounding yellow, fat I might add, labrador. This is my welcome to the place I will be living for the next 12 weeks. 12 whole weeks in this small Irish country estate. 

I meet several girls, younger. Much younger girls. As in leaving school younger. Sweet but have I mentioned young? A quick cup of tea, teaming plates of scones piled high with whipped cream and raspberry and coconut slices were offered. I can feel my jeans tightening as the plates pass me by. Quick, off to see the accommodation!

I'm in the pink cottage, guess why? I'm feeling lucky and so I should be. I have a twin room all to myself, twin room! Two massive wardrobes, my own bathroom (with bath) and a radiator that seems not to turn off. Yes Mum, I have tried!

After unpacking whilst trying to move as much as possible (working off the plate of scones I looked at) I go off to wander around the grounds. Little piglets run around, rows and rows of veggies, rows and rows of glass houses and a maze. A real life maze! Not tall enough to get lost I might add, but a maze!

I've spent the last couple of hours reading through the 500 pages of information and recipes I was given on arrival. Oh yeah, that is just for week 1. I'm trying not to get scared by how much information there is for me to take in and learn. It's been a long 7 years since I studied..I have my colour coded lever arches at the ready, fear not!

Knives at the ready, until next time!