Back when I was running around the country opening SpecSavers stores I found myself in the village of Waterval Boven in a hostelry with a lovely pub run by an Irishman. Waterval Boven is an amazing place – a rock-climbing mecca. I bought the book called something like “The Menu to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe” which listed all the climbs – dozens of them! This is not it, but similar:

Here are two of those climbs:

Waterval Boven.jpg
Waterval Boven falls

Isn’t that amazing!?

The publican was a raconteur and a wit and a delight. His brother was famous on SABC radio (Paddy O’Byrne, I think?). Seeing me all on my own, he chatted to me and taught me some Irish, of which I have never forgotten “‘kinell“.

As in ‘kinell! It’s short for Fucking Hell . . fuckin’ ‘ell . . ‘kinell.  A Pom might say ‘You don’t say!’ an American, ‘Beats me!’ – an Irishman will say ‘kinell!

His hostelry was special:

Waterval Boven Hotel.jpg

As is the whole village:

Waterval Boven village

So my personal Irishman fed me guiness, old brown, guiness, old brown. Marvelous evening.

Published by bewilderbeast

It's about life, marriage, raising kids, paddling rivers, travel in Africa . . . re-posting thoughts written over decades - at random, I'm afraid.

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