In the late fifties there were not many jobs for young people, therefore, when my father was alerted to an available position in the kitchen of Newport House he suggested that I should apply as I would be just "hanging around" during the school holidays. I passed the interview and started work sometime in June. My mentor was an elderly lady called Mrs. Cusack who had worked in the "Big House" as it was called since she was a young girl and when the O'Donels owned it. Part of my job was washing the dishes, pots and pans and anything that was put before me. But when it came to preparing vegetables and potatoes for lunch and dinner, instructions were handed down to be precisely carried out.

All the vegetables and fruits were grown in the hotel garden and were incorporated into the menus as to what was in season. Always there was a wonderful smell of cooking from the brown bread wafting across the kitchen to the chickens roasting in the oven.

Lobsters were brought in a crate and left on the kitchen floor, in the course of my work I would meet one making it's way across the flagged floor, resulting in a flurry of activity to get away from the monster. Someone who knew lobsters would pick it up and land it right back where it belonged with a warning that "if it was not handled properly it would take the hand off you."

Newport House had it's own milking cows and the fresh cream was skimmed off the milk and whipped with an old-fashioned hand-held whisk for the desserts. They were Mrs. Cusack's specialty, she told me on many occasions that "my grandfather had given a donkey to her late husband" therefore I was privileged to be handed a saucepan and spoon and sent to the scullery to sample the remains of desserts of the day and one dared not refuse.

The larder had marble slabs and in addition to the milk kept there, beautiful hams from Lipton's in Westport cooked and dressed in the kitchen took pride of place on the slabs, if anyone helped themselves to a sliver, questions would have to be answered.

Morning times were busy, in addition to breakfasts, lunch baskets had to be prepared for the guests who were going fishing. The hotel bar in the evening was crowded with fishermen relishing and living through the events of their catch.

Many a waitress cautiously checked the clock wishing them to be seated for dinner - and indeed the gong in the hall would give another resonant signal to try to usher them to their tables - as there may have been a dance in the Parochial hall that night with the Newport based band called the "Twilight Serenaders".

Much to the displeasure of the manageress. Miss Walsh, two gentlemen guests would faithfully approach the kitchen inquiring as to what was for dinner that evening, they would discuss the day's events with Mrs. Cusack and politely adjourn to the dining room.

Fortunately for me my days in the kitchen were coming to an end, I was getting a promotion, moving up to work in the pantry. This entailed more washing of dishes, but with an elegant status, as it was all the silverware and china. The silver was examined closely for any stains before it reached the dining room and the china was also scrutinised.

The staff had their meals in the pantry and after tea at six o'clock, it did not matter what was happening, Mrs. Cusack would make her appearance with her beads in hand and everyone knelt and said the Rosary.

Hours were long, from eight o'clock in the morning to eleven at night with a two-hour break during the day, seven days a week with a paycheck of thirty shillings (£1/10s)

School did not appeal to me very much, but after my couple of months working I was glad to be back in class.