Another great tale from Mac Tonks
“We were on the three camp sites CCF trek, and arrived at our first destination without problem. We made camp, walked a couple of miles to the nearest village and had a drink in the pub…. great! We returned to camp as night fell and then into our tents and sleeping bags.
It was freezing, and we had to light our gas stove (no health & safety in those days) to keep warm; next morning we were up like larks but the stream that ran through our camp had, in places, frozen over.
We ate our breakfast rations and had a brew. Mr Do-it-by-the-Book decided he needed the toilet (there’s always one) whilst the rest chose to use proper toilets or wait till we returned to Farchynys. Off he went, entrenching tool over his shoulder and toilet paper in hand, looking a lot like one of Snow White’s helpers.
There, in the corner of the field by a dry stone wall he dug his toilet and proceeded to use the same, when suddenly the farmer, who had decided to visit us, popped his head over the wall, Bore da, he called to the squatting individual.
The farmer continued up to our party and asked if we were okay and then continued on his way. Our colleague returned and told us what had occurred: ‘The farmer said something to me in Welsh, but I do not know what it means – it was Bore da.’
‘Ah that’s easy, Bare a**ed’ we said.
I do not know how many Welsh Good Mornings he had before he realised what Bore da actually meant.
The following day whilst moving on to the next camp, we were walking alongside a large forest when our leader, a great map reader, discovered a track running through the forest which would save us time if we followed it. Into the forest we went: a dark foreboding place, the only light that fell was on the track we walked.
Around about two miles in, we spotted smoke and as it grew nearer we realised in was from a cabin that looked like something a frontiers-man had built. A closer inspection revealed that it was -of all things- a café. Inside, we all duly went and a middle-aged lady took our order for four breakfasts and four mugs of tea.
Each breakfast was served by a different young lady – all of whom were charming and we spent over a couple of hours chatting to the lady and her four daughters. The food was great, the company good but do you know that no other group ever found that place or even we on subsequent visits. Even the locals who we asked hadn’t a clue what we were talking about.
Did we imagine it?”
Mac Tonks QM 1962-67