I got home, sat on my bed and no more than a minute later found myself uttering the words 'I’m bored'.
You would think that after a 12 hour taxi/train/plain/car journey, more than a little hung-over, my bed (that hadn't seen sleep in 5 months) would be inviting. However, home was not where i wanted to me.
After 5 months as a chalet host living a life of snow, mountain air, skiing, drinking, great friends, cooking, cleaning, hosting and more drinking...I found myself sat listening to the faint hum of seagull squawks as opposed to the blare of cheesy Swiss après music that I had grown so accustomed to.
Don't get me wrong I love home, and I love living by the sea but having nothing to do and no one around me left me feeling a little..empty in a way. And so the inevitable happened, dwelling on the past 5 months. All the adventures, and misadventures. All the drunken nights and hung-over breakfast services. All of the laughs, and the tears. All the kitchen triumphs...and kitchen disasters.
That’s what prompted me to create this blog, the cooking disasters. Telling my friends and family at home the stories of my season, the main thing that made them laugh and that people loved to hear about was the times where my cooking went a little...askew. The times where I would end up making 3 quiche or 5 cakes in 1 day as something would intervene and somehow mess it up. Or the times when i would manage to fall over the dishwasher in front of my guests...or many peoples favourite story...the time where I managed to get hit over the head with a frying pan and consequently get concussion. The times when Campbell’s kitchen was indeed chaos.
