Honeymooners hang their bloomers at Panty-noster
THE Paternoster Hotel on the West Coast of the Cape is a delight for voyeurs. If looking at lingerie is your tipple, look no further than The Panty Bar, inside this quaint resort opposite the beach.
It does raise a smile on the faces of patrons inside the bar, as one cannot avoid noticing the swarming collection of panties that are suspended from the ceiling. The place is quite dark and almost claustrophobic, but then again, this was once the prison in Paternoster.
What a feeling, when you’re dancing on the ceiling after a few drinks – but why would women drop them like they’re hot and hang ‘em high inside a West Coast bar? After all, it’s rather risqué behaviour for a conservative little seaside town.
Many a time, though, the lascivious habits of small-town folk have made headlines in national media. It’s not cool to talk about colourful undies stuck on the ceiling, right? Wrong! This practice apparently began in the 1970s, when this former jail in Paternoster was converted into a hotel and Johan Carosini began his collection of honeymoon panties in 1974.
The legend goes that a local preacher got his knickers in a twist over this “unholy practice”, reporting the hotel to the police. The panties had to come down – temporarily. They say that the officer responsible for taking the tooty off the ceiling was dubbed “Panty Basson”.
Incidentally, Paternoster means “our father”, but the preacher’s prayers – and protests – were seemingly unanswered by his father in heaven. With the dawn of the naughty nineties, freedom of expression was thrust into the spotlight again and honeymooners were able to get a step closer to post-nuptial bliss, by leaving behind the one piece of garment some say you save for lust, er last.
Johan’s son and now co-owner, Giorello, brought the panties back into favour.
The exhibition on the ceiling was almost like a mini-display of flags outside the UN in New York. It would certainly become livened up if their flags were in the shape of the most exotic lingerie, like those in this balmy bar.
The hotel has three entrances, all without signage, but the first entry takes one through the lingerie lounge.
Check-in is effortless in the 10-room dwelling. The rooms are modest, showing signs of tiredness. Everything has a rustic feel. For a hotel with a spicy bar, they don’t do chillies, but come up with second best, Tabasco sauce.
An idea as novel, however, of panties hanging from a ceiling still does not sit well with some people. In the 21st century, it’s just politically incorrect and, recently, Formula One had to get rid of its grid girls. After all, women are not sex objects and some think that the Paternoster Hotel should have a giant bonfire of the panties.
Panty-noster must fall! Better visit the pub before they come down again.