There are some people you meet in life who don’t just live in a place; they become part of its rhythm.

The kind of people whose story is stitched into the fabric of a town so naturally, you’d swear they were born there. Then they open their mouth, and out comes a fine Dublin accent to remind you otherwise. That, in a nutshell, is Cyril Boggins. A Dub who made his way to the Kingdom and, in doing so, became one of its own.
Cyril is the eldest of nine children, six girls and three boys, reared in Clondalkin in a house where, as he puts it himself, they had nothing but wanted for nothing. Strong genes run through the family; his mother lived to the grand age of 93, a testament to the resilience of the Boggins line.
School days brought their own challenges. Cyril attended St Michael’s in Inchicore, which he describes as tough. Being left-handed at the time was no small thing. “They used to tie my left hand behind my back to make me write with my right,” he told me with a laugh. “I’m practically ambidextrous now.” Things took a turn for the better at Lucan Technical College, where he found encouragement and teachers who let him write however he pleased.
When school finished and his mother asked what he wanted to do next, Cyril had no set plan, so he applied for everything—Aer Lingus, the Gas Works, and the ESB. It was a job as a commis chef in 1966 that set him on his path. Sent to Cathal Brugha Street to train, he was given vouchers for his whites and knives. His first week’s wages came to three pounds, ten shillings and sixpence, which was more than his father was earning at the time and a huge contribution to the household. Like many of his generation, he brought it straight home. His mother kept the three pounds, and Cyril treated his siblings to the cinema before putting the remainder into savings.
From the Green Isle Hotel to the RTÉ canteen and plenty of nixers’ along the way, Cyril built a solid career in the kitchen. But while he was busy cooking, music found him in the most unexpected way. After an accident involving his sister Deirdre, he called to check on the injured motorcyclist, Tommy Joy.
One visit led to another, and Cyril found himself drawn to a guitar in the room. “I’d love to play,” he said, “but I’m left-handed.” Tommy simply handed him a left-handed guitar, and that was that. From there, Cyril played across Dublin, finding his feet and his sound.
The big turning point came when he was given the choice of heading to the Bahamas or coming to Kerry to work in the Aghadoe Heights Hotel. He chose the Kingdom, and it was here he met his wife Nell, a woman he still speaks about with immense warmth.
Cyril’s chef career flourished in Kerry, moving from Aghadoe Heights to the Three Lakes Hotel, the International, and a stint in the Gleneagle, before spending 20 years in Park Lodge. He retired in 2019 at the age of 69.
Alongside his culinary career, his music never missed a beat. A memorable call came from the Dromhall Hotel, not looking for a chef, but for a musician. Cyril stepped in alongside Dick Willis, Pat Shortt and Tommy Fleming for what he described as a mighty night. His friendship with Dick Willis led to eight consecutive years travelling to the United States around St Patrick’s Day to perform for Irish communities abroad. It was just after returning from the last of those trips that his daughter Sabrina was born.
Back in Killarney, Cyril became a familiar face on the music scene. From helping out in The Laurels to forming The Quare Fellas with Enda Joyce, where a comedy act dressed as two crows earned them great laugh, to years performing with Jerry Healy, the Singing Jarvey. For the past 39 years, he has been performing with Johnny Ashe as "Bog Ashe," a duo that is still going strong.
Twice a week in the Dunloe Lodge, the music plays on. Tuesdays and Sundays bring packed rooms and voices raised in song. They even captured that magic on two CDs, Rattling Mary’s Windows and At It Again.
Life has also had its heavier moments. Cyril lost his beloved Nell just 18 months ago on Sabrina and Alan’s wedding anniversary. She was laid to rest on Cyril’s own birthday a few days later. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss my Nell,” he said.
Even in grief, there is light. The arrival of baby Freya Nell O’Connor brought a new joy into his life a "little miracle" as he calls her. Cyril speaks of her as a blessing from her two grandmothers, Nellie Boggins and Vera O’Connor. He now has two grandchildren, Freya and Quinn, with 23 years between them.
He speaks with great pride and gratitude for his daughters, Shirley and Sabrina, who have been his strength. It is clear that his story is defined by a deep sense of family and carrying on, even through the hardest days.
That is what stays with you after meeting Cyril: the music, the laughter, and the heart. He is a man who gave his life to his craft and his community, and who still shows up, guitar in hand, ready to lift a room. If you hear the sound of music drifting through the Dunloe Lodge of an evening, there is every chance Cyril is in the middle of it, keeping the rhythm going.