A weekend shopping in Pretoria and Rosebank
Saturday morning dawned just as cold icky as had the previous five days. Nevertheless, Peter Ong called to ask if I’d like to drive up to Pretoria.
What the hell. Why not?
Unfortunately, however, I failed to do any homework on the sights in Pretoria before I left the hotel. So I’m afraid our tour was a little incomplete.
Pretoria was made the capital of the old South African Republic in 1860. Many of the government buildings here date from the late 19th century, like the ou Raadsaal building shown here.
The ou Raadsaal was once the parliament building for the old Boer republic. When that entity merged with other provincial governments in 1910 to create modern South Africa, the legislative capital was moved to Cape Town. The executive branch of government stayed here in Pretoria, based in what’s called the Union Buildings, high on the east side of town.
Unfortunately, we didn’t think to drive over to see them.
Directly across the courtyard from the ou Raadsaal is the Palace of Justice.
It was in this building in 1963 and 1964 that Nelson Mandela and other opposition leaders were put on trial and found guilty of sabotage in order to overthrow the apartheid government.
Mandela, of course, served 27 years, was freed, won the Nobel Peace Prize and served as president of the country for a number of years.
On the grounds between the Palace of Justice and the ou Raadsaal is this giant statue of Boer leader Paul Kruger.
The statue was cast in Italy in 1899, the same year the Transvaal Republic went to war with Britain in what became known as the Boer War.
Beneath, around the pedestal, are four anonymous Boer soldiers.
The surrounding area is called Church Square. Click on this panorama for a much larger view.
Hundred-year-old buildings abound. The street that runs through here — Church Street — is allegedly the longest urban street in the country.
The city of Pretoria is supposed to be changing its name to Tshwane, which is already the name of the metro municipality. That’s the name on the city’s police cars, for example.
Tshwane is the Setswana-language name for the Apies River, which flows through through Pretoria.
Naturally, a large faction is not in favor of changing the name of Pretoria. The issue has been bogged down in the courts since it was first proposed, four years ago.
For what it’s worth, it’s reported the name of the town was originally Pretoria Philadelphia.
While we didn’t get to the Union Buildings or the Kruger House, we did stumble across this very, very old graveyard out on Church Street, on the west end of town.
The old tombstones looked wonderful. We were tempted to get out and stroll among them, but the place was locked up tight. I shot these pictures through a huge iron fence.
I’m told that they won’t let anyone living in the city limits of Pretoria be buried in this cemetery.
It’s true. You have to be dead first.
I wonder if my friend Arlene Prinsloo — the design director of the group of newspapers with which I’m working — could use this photo on her Facebook page.
It was still raining, so we decided we’d do a little shopping. We found this nice area called Sammy Marks Square not far from the city center.
The inside was a fairly typical shopping mall. Except it looked a bit nicer than your average U.S.-based mall.
Peter wanted to find a Woolworth’s. We searched and searched but couldn’t find one. Perhaps we were looking in the wrong place.
Many shops prominently displayed the newly-released jerseys for Bafana Bafana, the national soccer team that will be representing South Africa in the World Cup in June.
Do you suppose the furniture in this store is any good? Or just OK?
The real reason we stopped, however, wasn’t to hit the downtown mall. We spotted dozens upon dozens of street vendors setting up in the rain, which was beginning to taper off.
Where there are street vendors, of course, there are all sorts of interesting bargains to be had. And, at the very least, all sorts of interesting people to watch and to meet.
I was amazed to see folks selling food on the sidewalk.
No, I mean literally on the sidewalk.
Neither Peter nor I have a kitchen or a refrigerator in our hotel rooms. But it was interesting anyway to sift through the fruits and vegetables for sale.
The prices seemed awfully cheap. Three Rand — which you see on these signs — is about 40 U.S. cents.
South Africa, I’m told, is one of the world’s largest exporters of fruit. I believe it. Peaches, oranges, mangoes, dates, watermelon… you name it, you can find it here.
We found this young guy entertaining the crowd with an electronic keyboard, a couple of modest speakers and a hell of a set of pipes.
Man, he was just wailing away. The money I tipped him was well-deserved.
By lunchtime, the rain had finally stopped. You can see here the crowd had picked up noticeably.
However, we were a little disappointed in the selection of merchandise at all the little booths. Mostly, it was manufactured stuff like T-shirts, backpacks and sunglasses. There were very few hand-made goods. So we gave up and headed back to Johannesburg.
We did pull over to the side of the expressway so I could shoot this picture of the University of South Africa, or UNISA. The place looked more like a cruise ship than a college.
Note the tower on the right that includes a huge soccer ball.
I got back to my hotel in mid-afternoon, threw open the curtain and was greeted with this sight:
I nearly called down to the front desk: What is that giant ball of fire in the sky that’s causing everything to be all lit up?
It was nice to see the sun again. Someone cue the George Harrison song.
I met Peter again for a nice dinner, stayed up late blogging about a new German e-magazine and then slept in a little late on Sunday. When I woke up, I looked outside again and was startled in the change from the photo above.
See that little sports complex on the right? It was full of families and kids running around on multiple soccer fields.
It was some kind of tournament. And what a gorgeous day for it, too. This was the first time, really, I had enjoyed sunshine since the previous Saturday — when, I might add, I sunburned the hell out of my scalp.
[Please insert your own Apple peel joke here.]
Sunday was Peter’s last day in town, so we decided to meet up the street at Rosebank shopping mall, where there is a huge flea market every Sunday morning.
The mall itself is very, very nice. It kind of blows my mind, though, to see it all done up for Christmas.
It doesn’t seem at all like the weekend before Thanksgiving. Time seems frozen in my mind at the point where I left Virginia Beach — late September.
And remember, despite the cold, rainy weather lately, it’s late spring/early summer here. South Africans celebrate Christmas, but the holiday is a lot more like our Fourth of July.
Except for the trees, of course.
We stumbled across this really interesting store in the Rosebank Mews shopping center. It sells used magazines. By weight.
Unfortunately, the place was closed. The door was locked and this awfully confusing sign babbled on and on.
Peter and I stood there with our little noses pressed up against the glass, peering balefully at the shelves laden with piles and piles of back issues. What a find for a couple of design packrats.
Perhaps it was for the best, though. I’m already toting quite enough home next week as it is.
What’s for lunch at Rosebank, anyway?
Mmmm. Lamb spit. I hope that comes with a straw.
Not far from the restaurant, a number of young men performed for tips. This guy is doing the limbo beneath a flaming bar.
Lower, lower…
…lower still…
…and he’s done. Well-done, in fact. But not seared.
The real attraction at Rosebank, of course, is the aforementioned flea market. I had photographed this market — and blogged about it — several weeks ago, so I didn’t shoot a lot this time. Just a few things that caught my eye.
Like, for instance, this artist who covers all bases with his samples.
Folk art? Check. Abstract? Check. Landscape? Check. Nude? Check. (Lower left, partially hidden).
Pop culture icons? Check and check: Nelson Mandela and Michael Jackson.
The highlight of our day was this booth featuring hand-carved stone candleholders, decorations and knick-knacks.
The artisan himself worked the booth, selling carvings and then carefully wrapping them for his customers.
Yes, he wrapped his work in newspapers. Try doing that with a Web page!
Both Peter and I fawned over the stone elephants. The trunk meets at the bottom, forming a kind-of handle.
Very cool. But also very heavy. What a nightmare it’d be to get this stuff home.
There were an assortment of angels…
…nude torsos…
…and stuff just unbelievably cool. See those two tall items in the back, each with a carved iguana on top? Do you know what they are?
They’re CD holders!
Eventually, our attention turned to the man’s carved faces. He had a number of them — tall, short, big, small.
The best ones were hollow, so you can put a candle in the center, as if it were a stone-carved Jack-o-lantern.
We made our selections. I took pictures while Peter pressed the guy for a volume discount.
Which, incredibly, he gave us. Score another victory for Peter’s negotiating skills.
On our way out, I came across this in the Rosebank parking lot.
Yes, those are Post-It notes. Dozens and dozens of them. Each had a hand-written note on it.
Why they don’t fall off or go swirling in the breeze, I don’t know.
Peter and I retired to our respective hotels — Peter to nap in advance of his early flight Monday; I to edit photos and to blog. We ate dinner in a nice Chinese restaurant and made our farewells.
Will I ever see Peter again? I have to imagine we’ll meet again someday. For now, though, we’ll have to be satisfied with the work each of us has done here in South Africa and the fun we’ve had in our spare time.
Meanwhile, the clock ticks down toward my own departure. Today — Monday, Nov. 23 — marks the 55th day of my 62-day teaching expedition to Johannesburg and Cape Town.
I’ll depart for home a week from today.