This morning I bumped into colleague Toast Coetzer of our sister magazine Weg/Go! “Didn’t you recently visit Koës in Namibia?”
“Yes, why do you want to know?”
“They told me at the hotel you were there.”
“Did Bonsai tell you?”
“No, he went hunting. But I spoke to his wife.”
Everybody knows who “Bonsai” is. It’s probably only his parents that know him as “Johan Combrink”.

Hell, the world is a small place.
I only spoke briefly to Elmarie while she and Bonsai were serving guests from behind the counter of the bar in the Koës Hotel.

And that was more than a month ago.
In the meantime I’ve been thinking about Koës a lot. It is a special place. Kind of on the periphery of the world as we know it, somewhere on the western edge of the Namibian Kalahari and not exactly on your way to somewhere specifically.

Because to go to Koës you really have to want to go there.
And after spending a day or so there, you’ll understand why people go there.
Next year I’ll be planting my elbows on the barcounter of the Koës Hotel again. And then Elmarie will probably ask if I know Toast Coetzer.
And while she’s turning around to fill up my glass with ice she’ll probably say: “Yes, he was mos here last year.”
To which I’ll reply: “Hell, but the world is a small place.”
And then she’ll concur: “Yes, it is bloody small.”
And then I’ll quietly sit and think about how bloody marvellous Koës is.