It’s just gone 4.30pm on St Patrick’s Day. I’m sitting in a beach house called the Sea Pad in the Romansbaai Estate, just outside  Gansbaai, as the sun sets slowly.

As an Irishman, I have observed a tradition these past 50 years of finding a pub that sells Guinness draught. I wait for those exquisite few minutes for it to settle then wallop it down in five long sips, leaving the tide lines of the froth on the glass as evidence. ..

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