Neon Lights, Cold Castles, and Residual Smoke: A Love Letter to the South of Joburg (1982–1992)

If you grew up, worked, or drank in the South of Johannesburg between the early 1980s and the dawn of the 90s, you knew you belonged to a distinct tribe. It was a world bounded by the ridges, heavily infused with Portuguese culture, working-class pride, and a fiercely loyal social scene. Before the massive commercial shifts of the mid-90s rolled in, the weekend ritual across suburbs like Rosettenville, Forest Hill, Ridgeway, and Robertsham was nothing short of legendary.

Pour yourself a cold one, put some classic rock on the stereo, and let’s take a ten-year walk down memory lane.

The Weekend Spectacle: Rosie O’Grady’s at Gold Reef City

In the early-to-mid 80s, our weekends often kicked off with the vibrant, theatrical energy of Gold Reef City. The mining-town replica wasn’t just for family day trips; by night, its old-school saloon pubs were a massive drawcard for local crowds looking for real entertainment.

The crown jewel of them all was Rosie O’Grady’s. Stepping through those doors on a Friday or Saturday night felt like walking straight into a high-energy time capsule. The atmosphere was loud, festive, and unapologetically fun. The absolute highlight of the night was the famous Can-Can dancing. Dancers in flamboyant, ruffled skirts kicked to roaring live music, getting the entire crowd cheering, stomping, and singing along. It was the ultimate way to set the tone for a wild night out in the South. Barney's and the Consolidated were always a hit. 

The Anchor of Ridgeway: Tobies

As the years rolled on toward the late 80s and early 90s, our local universe revolved tightly around Tobies (or Toby’s, depending on who you ask) in Ridgeway. It was the quintessential neighborhood action bar—low lighting, thick cigarette smoke, the sharp clink of pool balls, and neon Amstel and Castle signs casting a warm glow over a crowd where everyone eventually knew your name.

But what truly gave Tobies its soul was the music. For so many of us, the definitive soundtrack of those years belonged to a local musician named Sean Liebenberg. Standing in the corner with his guitar and a microphone, Sean had the uncanny ability to capture the entire room. Whether he was playing classic rock anthems or acoustic covers, his voice was the background track to our youth, our heartbreaks, and our best weekend plans. You didn’t just go to Tobies for a drink; you went to see Sean play.

Down the Road: The Locomotive and The Smelly Rose

When the crowd at Tobies decided it was time to move on, the night was always young. Just down the road sat The Locomotive (fondly remembered as The Loco). True to its name, it had that rugged, rhythmic energy where the drinks flowed fast, the jukebox was always loud, and you were guaranteed to run into someone you went to high school with.

And then, of course, there was that brilliantly named dive bar that everyone frequented earlier in the decade, whether you lovingly called it The Smelly Rose or The Stinking Rose. It was raw, completely unpretentious, and had character in spades—the kind of place that didn't care about frills, just good company and ice-cold beer.

A Rite of Passage: Gino’s Pizza in Robertsham

You couldn't survive a decade of nights out in the South without proper fuel, and for that, all roads eventually led to Gino’s in Robertsham. Having opened in the late 70s, Gino's was already a culinary institution by the time 1982 rolled around.

Stepping into Gino’s after hours was a sensory overload: the rich smell of garlic, bubbling mozzarella, and wood-fired crusts. Sliding into a booth to share a massive, authentic pizza or a prego roll with friends was the ultimate midnight recovery ritual. It wasn't just a restaurant; it was the late-night social hub where the entire evening's stories were recapped, gossiped about, and laughed over until the early hours of the morning.

An Era Kept Alive in Memory

By 1992, the world was changing rapidly, and the tightly knit suburban pub culture of the South began to shift. The venues we frequented might have changed hands, closed down, or evolved, but the memories remain completely untouched by time.

To the bouncers who kept the peace, the bartenders who knew our orders, musicians like Sean who gave us a soundtrack, and the "Southern Boys and Girls" who made those ten years unforgettable—here’s to the best era of our lives.

"What was your regular order at Gino's, and do you remember Sean's favorite song to cover at Tobies? Mine was definitley "Kiss from a Rose - a Seal cover" I always believed he was singing it for me! 
 Drop your memories in the comments below!"  

True ...

 

Barclays Bank Head Office - Johannesburg

 

Echoes of 1980s Johannesburg: From Vetkoek to Banking Palaces

Working in the heart of Johannesburg during the 1980s was an unforgettable experience. For the youth of that era, the city was alive with energy, packed with pubs and clubs that came alive every evening—often soundtracked by nothing more than a musician, a guitar, and a crowd of friends. While the names of many of those old favorite haunts have faded with time, the memories of that vibrant atmosphere remain vivid.

Back then, I was based at the Barclays Head Office, a massive and genuinely beautiful building that stretched between Commissioner Street and Market Street. Lunch breaks were an adventure in themselves; a popular favorite was grabbing a legendary curry mince vetkoek from the "Vetkoek Den" on Loveday Street.

In the early '80s, life felt largely carefree, and we had no trouble spending our hard-earned wages enjoying everything the city center had to offer. But the decade soon took a turbulent turn. The reality of the era hit incredibly close to home around 1984 or 1985, when a bomb exploded at the Wimpy Bar just off Rissik Street. My colleagues and I had been sitting in that very spot having lunch a mere thirty minutes before the blast.

By the end of 1987, I moved on from city center life, taking a job with Metro Cash & Carry in Ormonde. Yet, the charm and elegance of that old Barclays building always stayed with me. Curious about the history of the place I used to walk through every day, I recently did some digging, and what I discovered is fascinating.

The History Behind the Grandeur

As it turns out, the building was a masterclass in architectural evolution, seamlessly blending fifty years of design into a single, unified block:

• The Original Corner (1903–1904): Designed by famous architects Leck and Emley at the corner of Commissioner and Simmonds Streets, this late Victorian Neo-Classical structure rose 11 storeys, making it Johannesburg’s tallest office block until the 1920s. It featured a striking external copper dome and a spectacular internal glass dome that flooded the massive banking hall with natural light.

• The Market Street Extension (1953): This is the piece of history I remember so well. Designed by the legendary South African architect Gordon Leith, this extension stretched through to Market Street. Leith meticulously matched the original Neo-Classical styling and scale so perfectly that it blended seamlessly into a single "banking palace."

A Peek Inside the Fortress

The interior was built to project immense wealth and absolute security, featuring craftsmanship that is incredibly rare today. The executive spaces boasted rich mahogany counters, heavy bronze screens, intricate wood paneling, and pristine parquet flooring. Beneath it all lay massive subterranean vaults designed to handle gold bullion straight from the Witwatersrand mines.

Where It Is Today

Happily, this beautiful piece of Johannesburg's history has survived the decades intact and is now a protected provincial heritage site. Following a major urban rejuvenation project in the early 2000s, the lower banking halls were meticulously refurbished, while the upper levels were transformed into luxury inner-city residential lofts and penthouses (85 and 87 Commissioner Street). It remains a stunning monument to the Beaux-Arts era—a reminder of a time when banks were built like fortresses of art.

Johannesburg pubs

Pints, Pastries, and Pop Hits: A Nostalgic Crawl Through Johannesburg’s 1980s Pub Scene

There was a time when central Johannesburg didn’t just close up at 5:00 PM—it ignited. During the early-to-mid 1980s, the square mile around the city's financial district was absolutely packed with character. Checking out of the bank head offices or stock exchange floor on a Friday afternoon to hit the local watering holes wasn’t just a casual choice; it was practically a Johannesburg ritual.

The energy of the CBD during those peak years was unmatched. The sheer noise of trading floors and bustling corporate hubs spilled out onto the pavements and went straight into a diverse, vibrant grid of wood-paneled taverns, neon basement bars, and high-end hotel lounges.

If you walked the city streets back then, these are the legendary spots that defined an unforgettable era of Joburg nightlife.

The Historic Staples of the Financial District

For the corporate and banking crowds looking for a classic pint and a hearty lunch, a few foundational pubs offered a deep sense of history and a refuge from the high-stakes financial world.

1. The Guildhall Pub (Corner of Harrison & Market Streets)

Widely tied for the title of Johannesburg’s very oldest surviving pub, the Guildhall first opened its doors in 1888 during the chaotic days of the gold rush.

• The Vibe: Stepping inside felt like walking into an old Edwardian time capsule. It featured a gorgeous, comfortably worn antique wooden bar downstairs and a historic second-story balcony perfect for people-watching.

• 
  The Story: In its earliest mining days, it was a raucous spot where prospectors literally traded gold dust for liquor. By the 1980s, it had evolved into a beloved lunchtime haven, famous among bank and stock exchange workers for its ice-cold beer, excellent steaks, and Portuguese-style peri-peri chicken.
  
  
  
  

2. The Library (Commissioner Street)

Situated further down Commissioner Street, "The Library" was a classic, heavily frequented institution that offered a brilliant bit of cover for cheeky patrons.

• The Vibe: Dark, intimate, and deliberately styled to mimic an old-school gentleman's smoking room or an academic sanctuary, it was complete with rich wood accents and faux bookshelves lining the walls.

• The Story: Because of its academic name, it became the subject of a running joke among the city's corporate crowd. Professionals would famously call home to tell their partners, "I’m going to spend the evening studying at the library." It was technically true—they just happened to be studying the bottom of a pint glass!

3. Jameson’s (Commissioner Street)

Further down Commissioner Street lay Jameson’s, a venue that held an incredibly unique, rebellious, and progressive place in the city's cultural tapestry.

• The Vibe: Reached by a narrow staircase leading downward, it was a gritty, high-energy basement pub known for a packed house and legendary live music.

• The Story: Jameson's possessed an incredibly rare, historic liquor license granted in the late 1800s by Paul Kruger, President of the old Transvaal Republic. Because of the unique legal phrasing of that ancient license, Jameson's managed to operate as a completely integrated, mixed-race bar right through the height of the 1980s. It became a legendary oasis where journalists, musicians, and bank workers of all backgrounds drank and listened to live rock and blues together.

4. Kitchener’s Carvery Bar (De Korte Street, Braamfontein)

While located slightly north of the immediate banking center, anyone who truly loved the city’s classic pub culture eventually ended up at Kitchener's, located inside the Milner Park Hotel.

• The Vibe: Strikingly old-fashioned, it featured original ornate wallpapers, dark wood paneling, and deep velvet booths dating all the way back to 1906.

• The Story: Named after Lord Kitchener, it spent decades operating as a traditional, straight-laced carvery where businessmen grabbed a roast lunch and a midday drink. It beautifully survived the city's later transitions by seamlessly shifting from a quiet daytime pub into a vibrant, creative nightspot.

5. The Radium Beerhall (Louis Botha Avenue)

Though a bit of a trek up Louis Botha Avenue, the Radium is a mandatory mention because its very heart belongs to the city center.

• The Story: The massive, beautiful wooden bar counter inside the Radium was actually salvaged from the historic Ferreirasdorp Hotel in the old city center when it was demolished to make way for the Magistrates Court.

Going Underground: The 80s Neon Grid

As the 1980s boomed, street-front real estate on retail spines like Eloff, Rissik, Joubert, and Loveday streets became premium gold. This sparked a massive architectural trend: the basement pub.

Leaving the bustling pavements meant walking down a set of stairs into a completely different, dimly lit world.

The Subway & Cellar Pubs

Scattered along Rissik and Loveday, these basement venues leaned hard into a "cozy British pub" or "subway transit" aesthetic. They featured faux-exposed brick, glowing neon beer signs, heavy wooden tables, and those distinct 1980s copper bar pumps. They were notoriously thick with cigarette smoke and constantly alive with the sound of top-40 pop hits or rock anthems blasting from a cassette system behind the bar.

The Theater & Plaza Watering Holes

Joubert Street and the areas cutting across multi-level shopping hubs—like the Sanlam Centre and various arcade walkways—offered a completely different energy.

• The Plaza Bars: These spots were a stark contrast to the dark, historic banking taverns. They were bright, trendy, and modern, sporting mirrors, chrome finishes, and hanging plants—the absolute height of 1980s design. They were famous for serving rapid-fire "pub lunches" (basket snacks like steak strips and chips or toasted sandwiches) to office workers rushing through on a tight one-hour break.

• The Cinema Crowds: Because massive movie houses like the Metro on Eloff Street were in full swing, the pubs closest to them on weekend nights would seamlessly transition from corporate office workers to young couples grabbing a drink before or after a big film premiere.

What made the early-to-mid 80s so unique was this sheer density of choice. You could walk out of the serious, quiet atmosphere of a head office on Simmonds Street, stroll two blocks east, and find yourself navigating a vibrant neon grid where every single block had at least two or three lively options competing for your attention.

High Luxury at the Carlton Hotel

If you wanted to completely escape the chaotic energy of the bustling CBD streets, you headed to the absolute pinnacle of inner-city luxury and style: The Carlton Hotel.

While the surrounding complex boasted spots like the sky-high Piano Bar, it was Charley’s Bar—nestled right inside the plush, gleaming, 30-story luxury hotel—that defined 80s sophistication.

Charley’s Bar

Charley's was the quintessential 1980s hotel "ladies' bar" and cocktail lounge.

• The Decor: It was beautifully carpeted, intimate, dimly lit, and incredibly comfortable, featuring deep, plush seating designed for unwinding in style.

• The Crowd: Because the Carlton operated under an "international" hotel status, Charley’s was a cosmopolitan melting pot. On Friday afternoons and paydays, it was the premier destination for a stylish crowd. Corporate professionals, software quality assurance managers, and banking executives rubbed shoulders with international business travelers, airline pilots, and theatergoers.

The Ultimate Carlton "Bar Hop"

In the 80s, the Carlton Hotel was practically a self-contained evening out. A classic night out would often revolve around a few key spots right next to each other:

• The Three Ships: The hotel’s legendary, world-renowned fine dining restaurant. Patrons would famously meet at Charley's Bar for a pre-dinner cocktail before heading through for an exquisite silver-service meal.

• The Koffiehuis Café: Located just off the main lobby, this was a charming, slightly more casual alternative where waitresses dressed in traditional Dutch aprons and mob caps. If you wanted a break from the premium prices of Charley's, the Koffiehuis was the go-to spot for a legendary Welsh Rarebit, fresh waffles, and bottomless coffee.

Stepping into that gleaming Carlton lobby and heading into Charley's truly felt like entering another world. It was a golden era for Johannesburg's nightlife—a vibrant, bustling time in the heart of the city before the great corporate shift to the northern suburbs began later in the decade.

"There are so many more places flickering in my mind’s eye—atmospheres I can still feel, even if their names have faded with time. For us, that golden era of inner-city pub crawls quietly wound down in the early 1990s, caught in the wave as companies began migrating away from the CBD toward Randburg and Sandton. As the corporate landscape shifted, the old-world charm of the city center began to fade. Sadly, the historic streets we once knew entered a sharp decline, leaving much of that grand architecture derelict today. Yet, in memory, the neon signs still glow, the bars are still packed, and the city remains fully alive."

There are so many more pubs that spring to mind now, The Jolly Roger on Eloff street can you name any others?

The "Friendamily" Gap: Navigating the Holidays as an Immigrant

I’m curious to know how other expats feel right now. In Ireland, Christmas is all about those big, bustling family reunions. It’s beautiful to witness, but as an immigrant, it can be a tough reminder of what’s missing.

My "family" is a global network of friends. We talk constantly, but we’re separated by oceans and life paths. Lately, it feels even more poignant; our parents’ generation has passed on, and we’re the ones left holding the traditions in foreign lands while our 20-something kids start finding their own feet.

I love my life in Ireland, and I’m grateful for the family I do have here—so why does this season always leave me looking for more? If you’re spending the holidays away from your "home" or your "tribe," I’d love to hear how you’re feeling.

Those "Army" days ...

 

It feels like another lifetime ago, but I vividly recall my high school years when mandatory military enlistment loomed large for all boys aged 16 to 18. Upon finishing school, they'd receive their "call-up" papers, a summons to fulfill their duty to the nation.

While there wasn't an active war, the National Government at the time classified the ANC political party as a terrorist organization. This was the same organization to which Nelson Mandela, Chris Hani, and many current South African government officials belonged. It's important to note that this conscription took place under a minority white government enforcing Apartheid against all non-white people.

Conscription was an inescapable reality for all young white men. Some chose to leave the country as soon as they completed their education, while tragically, others resorted to suicide.

As a young girl, dating a boy about to embark on his National Service was particularly difficult. They would be away for two years, with their first home pass typically granted only after three months of basic training. The uncertainty of their posting locations added to the anxiety; some were sent as far as Upington, a considerable distance from Johannesburg, and after basic training, deployment to the Angolan/South West African border was a common possibility. (This is where my future husband was posted, though we hadn't met yet.)

In 1981, as I prepared for college, my then-boyfriend had just finished school and was due for his call-up. I remember the tearful goodbyes at Park Station, surrounded by mothers, sisters, and fathers all saying farewell to their loved ones. (That particular relationship was short-lived, but that's a story for another time.)

My mother was wonderful about sending care packages to my male cousins on the border, filled with comforts from home. Inspired by her, I started sending parcels to other boys I knew who were also serving. With no phones or email, letters were our only means of communication. It was common practice to adorn envelopes with lipstick kisses and spray the paper with perfume. We'd spend our pocket money on fancy stationery and our evenings writing romantic letters – the memories are truly flooding back now.

The soldiers received an Army magazine that featured a pen pal section. Civilians could submit their details – for example, "Female, Blonde hair, blue eyes, likes music, dancing etc. looking for pen pals!" I remember placing an advertisement like that myself and was astonished by the response; I must have received 50 letters or more!

I felt like a celebrity. Of course, it was impossible to reply to every single one, so I had to carefully read through them all and choose which ones to answer. Photographs certainly helped in the decision-making process! It significantly boosted my social life, with dates almost every other weekend when someone was home on a pass. However, I didn't fully grasp the hardships these young men endured during those two years until much later, when I heard their heartbreaking stories.

Thank you, Trevor Romain, for jogging my memory. I deeply appreciate your work and hope you don't mind me sharing my recollections inspired by it.

I'd love to hear your memories as well.

AI gave me a great overview on Google:

National service in South Africa, specifically for white males, was primarily implemented to bolster the military manpower needed to enforce apartheid policies and maintain internal security amidst growing resistance. It was also used to project South African power in neighboring countries, including Angola, Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe), Namibia, and Mozambique, sometimes covertly, through military interventions and support for destabilization efforts. 

Here's a more detailed breakdown:

Enforcing Apartheid:

The apartheid regime relied heavily on the South African Defence Force (SADF) to enforce its policies and suppress opposition, both within the country and in neighboring territories. 

Security Concerns:

The government perceived a "communist threat" and used national service to counter perceived internal and external threats, particularly from liberation movements and anti-apartheid activists. 

Border Wars:

The SADF was heavily involved in border wars, particularly in Namibia (then South African-occupied) and Angola. National service provided the necessary manpower for these conflicts. 

Maintaining Nationalist Rule:

The government viewed national service as crucial for maintaining its power and control, both in suppressing internal dissent and projecting military strength abroad. 

Political Context:

The implementation of national service in 1967 coincided with escalating resistance to apartheid, both domestically and internationally. The government needed a large, conscripted army to deal with the growing challenges. 

St. Mary's Children's Home - Rosettenville, Johannesburg

When I was home a few weeks ago, I met up with a few friends from the South of Jo'burg, who went to the same Primary school as I did: - "Highveld Primary". 

One of my friends who became a teacher and eventually was appointed principal of a private school in Linmeyer, but has now retired was telling me how she spends her days.   She told me she volunteers at St. Mary's home.   We always referred to it as an orphanage, but it wasn't really a place for orphans but for kids who's parents either could not afford to keep them or neglected them. 

We all would have had a kid in our class who came from the home.  At school they were not treated any different from what we were.   In one of my posts I mentioned going to a disco on a Friday evening at the home.   My mom who was a book keeper looked after the books for the home.

On our way to meet up with the friends at "Gino's in Robertsham", there were a few kids begging at the traffic lights, my friend said that often these kids would land up at the home as well.  This made me happy to know that they had somewhere they could go to have a meal and a warm bed.

I vowed that when I got back I would give back to the community where I grew up in and will start with "St. Marys", I have often helped other people who have organized events in the South, however this one is close to my heart and wanted to share it with all of you.  If you perhaps feel the same then please see if there is something you can do to help them as well. 

https://stmaryschildrenshome.org.za/news 

Interesting facts about St. Mary's - In one of my posts I spoke about the Anglo Boer War and how the Johannesburg Concentration Camp was at the Turffontein Racecourse.   My friend said that after the end of the ABW they opened St. Mary's which is not far from the Turffontein Racecourse. 

"St Mary’s Children’s Home has been operating since 1902. Their services include residential care to 54 children designated to them through the Children’s Court on account of the Child Care Act, for reasons which include abuse (mental, physical, emotional and sexual abuse) and / or neglect, being orphaned or some have been affected by HIV/ AIDS virus. They come to them from surrounding informal settlements and many can be seen as the poorest of the poor."

Home is where the heart is ...

We just returned from a couple of weeks in South Africa, far too short a time! 

It was a family wedding in the Midlands just near Nottingham Road, I had not been to that area since I was engaged to a guy I met down in Newcastle.   His family on a farm on Botha's Pass just outside of Memel on the way to Newcastle.

I was down on business and met him in the lounge at the Holiday Inn and we exchanged numbers, can you believe it, this was back at the beginning of 1991 and yet to call the farm, you still had to go through the exchange ... remember "Nommer asseblief" well that is exactly what it was.

They owned a farm which was 4000 ha of land, and they farmed mainly sheep.   When I look back now, I can see I fell in love with the farm and not with the guy.   It was an escape from the rat race, as I would often go down on the weekend and spend my weekends there.   

Then at one stage I had to go down on business and took my annual leave and spent 5 weeks down there.  I think after that I realized that I was a "city" girl by heart.   But the trip down to Nottingham Road, brought me back to a simple life.  The farm was called "Donkerhoek" and was approximately 25km's from Newcastle.  I remember that from turning into the gate of the farm it was a 5km drive to the main house, and the road wasn't the best. 

The Farm was very colonial - the mother Eileen Mollie Steel (nee Davis) born 9th January 1923, and who obviously came from Money married Raymond Graham Steel.   They had 3 Sons, Michael, Ian & Peter Graham Steel.  They were all given the middle name Graham. 

Eileen's father "John Richard Davis" came from Liverpool and was a sea Merchant, he must have had a lot of money as he acquired a piece of land in Witkoppen, Johannesburg called "Craigieburn" - I know his mom still had this land when Peter and I were dating.   When John died in 1948 he left this piece of land to her, she was an only child. Eileen was baptised in Parktown, Johannesburg. 
Interestingly I found all the details on the familysearch.org website - John seems to have been a very wealthy man as his Will shows that he left hundreds of pounds to his workers.  

Part of the Will also states that the balance of the income from his Trust Fund shall be paid one half to his sister "Ceceilia Annie Davis" a Major spinster of "Castle Downeen, Rosscarbery, County Cork IRELAND".  Now that is interesting. 

Looking at Google maps this is all that is left and one webpage says: "A section of this once large castle now stands on its windswept promontory isolated from the mainland by years of erosion."

I think I went down a Rabbit whole with this post, my whole intention was to talk about how beautiful the Midlands are and the area.  Where this probably came from was that after I was rescued from the Oceanos, I did not see Peter again, I broke up with him.   However I did bump inot him and his mother at Sandton Clinic one day, I had gone to see the specialist about having my tonsils removed.   And he had brought his mom up to see someone as she needed to get her 2nd hip replaced.  I was around for the first one!   She was a lovely lady and who knows where life would have taken me if I had ended up marrying Peter and inheriting a vast amount of money.  But we will never know. 

I don't even think I have a photo of the farm or the family, I will need to have a look. 

Oceanos Podcast

 A few Months ago, I was approached by a Canadian company who do podcasts called "Tell Me What Happened"  - Here is the Podcast if you have aobut 35 minutes to spare. 

I have started following them on Spotify as there are a lot of other interesting stories as well. 

Communes in Jo'burg - Revisited

 Back in 2017 I did a post from an email I received from David who was reading my blog, then in January 2025  Richard commented on my blog post, and today sent this photo to see if anyone remembers. 

Firstly this is the Post from 2017 - Commune parties in Jo'burgs Northern Suburbs 

And here is Richards Comment:

Amazing to stumble on this blog. I was around a bit earlier than most of the history here - my time was 1971 to 1974 . I started Gasworks in '71and left in '74 after marrying one of other "inmates" - Gill, and still married - just made 50 years. Now living in Tasmania - 2 children (ha!) and 5 grandkids spread around the world. Great memories of Gasworks - largely in an alcoholic haze. I started the house olympics and actually have a picture of our team. (sorry John Cornell - he can claim fame to the "League of Gentlemen" darts league but not the olympics - sadly John died quite a while back). The Summer of '72 was an epic party - we even had Glenda Kemp who was a famous stripper. My wife had the task of looking after her snakes between acts. Then there was the gambling nights with full size roulette tables and blackjack. Not to mention movie nights with "under the counter movies" . I hope there's a statute of limitations because the number of rules we broke was huge. We built a great bar - there was always competion between houses for the best.

I can't see how to publish pictures on this blog but to name the Gasworks Olympics team - and where they are now: Bob and Jim - sorry can't recall surnames. Pam Martinez and John Cornell (John later married Marilyn) . Steve and Carolyn Kirk - now divorced living in Ireland. Jilly Warren, my GF at the time - married and living in Wales. Mike and Ardyne O Sullivan - now divorced DK. Stella Still - married and living in Jersey - still in touch.
Like so many ex-pats we decided life was getting too unpleasant ( bombs at the school , bricks through windscreens) and in 1987 we moved to Tassie - started up the same electronics business I had in Jo'burg which I eventually sold , retired, now into local politics for entertainment. Getting old gracefully.
Love to hear from anyone who can fill in the blanks.

And here is the email I received today along with the photo:

Hi Rozi

 

Here is the picture I refer to in post. Coincidentally, Stella Challinor now Still is visiting us in Tassie from another island  - Jersey.

Happy to share my email if it can raise any old contacts.

 

Cheers

 

Richard (richardireland @ bigpond . com ) 

TV in South Africa - 1976

I was looking at the Stat's on my Blog, to see which posts have attracted the most attention, and it seems it is all the one's in which I reminisce about the old days.   

I think a lot of us look over those days with fond memories, and by reading about someone else's memories, they think of their own and where they were and what they were doing at the time.

This reminds me of a post in a blog SA IN THE OLD DAYS from 2011, which triggered so many memories for me.  So, I thought I would write something similar about my own memories. 

1976 - TV was introduced to South Africa with the first Broadcast on the 5th of January 1976, we did not get our TV set until much later that year or the following year. 

However, to start the programs were short, I think they only broadcast for a few hours every evening. 

My Aunt and Uncle who lived on a small farm in Roodepoort had TV, we would go visit them on a Saturday with my mom and swim in the dam when it was hot, it was like a round reservoir with corrugated iron sides and it was slimy with all kinds of stuff floating in it.  But we did not care it was wet and cooling.   
Then when they got their TV, we were allowed to watch re-runs of "The Brady Bunch" that were aired on a Saturday at 1 PM. 
We didn't even realise that the show was almost 10 years old at that stage.   But we didn't care, we were actually watching a box with moving pictures, in someone's house without having to go to the Cinema. 

There was only 1 Channel to start and if I remember correctly each alternate day it would start with a different language, so for instance on a Monday you would have English from 6 - 8 and the news in Afrikaans, and then Afrikaans for the rest of the broadcast.   
On Tues you would start with Afrikaans and go onto English with the news in English. 
I destinctly remember Tuesday, as my mother would make us watch the programme "The World at War" which started at about 9 PM and had some horrific scenes of Hitler and how he killed the Jews.  They even showed someone being shot in the head and the brains splattering on Hitler's shoes. 

The sad thing about getting TV was that we no longer listened to our favourite stories on Springbok Radio.   This was the start of the end of Springbok Radio and the many shows we would listen to in the evening, like "Squad Cars" & "The men from the Ministry", so many different ones. Wikipedia has a list of all the different shows here.  But I think Springbok Radio probably deserves a post of its own, so watch this space. Oh, actually I did one previously ... Springbok Radio.

Mostly we listened to the Springbok top 20 which was late on a Friday night with David Gresham and then repeated on a Saturday.   They eventually made Pop Shop which was shown on TV on a Friday evening with the latest top hits and music videos. 

My best friend's brother "Alex Jay" (name dropping) eventually took over Pop Shop and hosted it for many years. Although now that I googled it, I think Alex's show was called "Fast Forward" and not Pop Shop.  Check it out ... 

That was also the start of all the shows that we became hooked on e.g. Dynasty, Rich Man Poor Man, Dallas, and I could go on and on for 40 years, but I will leave that post here and we can reminisce about something else tomorrow. 

Keep your feet on the ground and reach for the start until next time.  Adios Amigos

How i wish for Simpler days ... Happy New Year 2025

Happy New Year to you all! 2025

There are moments when I find myself deeply nostalgic for the world before we had information—and each other—at our fingertips. Lately, I’ve realized that much of our modern mental stress stems from the constant "ping" of social media.

This past New Year’s Eve was a perfect example. As the clock struck midnight in both South Africa and Ireland, my phone became an ongoing alarm clock. WhatsApp messages flooded in from people I hadn’t heard from since the last New Year. It makes you wonder: without the ease of a "copy-paste" broadcast, would these people reach out at all? Next time, I’m turning off the Wi-Fi. It’s not about being grumpy; it’s about valuing real connection over digital noise. If you’re truly thinking of me, call or email. Otherwise, a Facebook post covers it!

Thinking back to the 80s and 90s, life worked differently. We didn't have cell phones to check up on each other every ten minutes. We made plans, we met up, and we lived our lives.

This brings me to the modern trend of tracking apps. I know parents who monitor their children’s locations well into their 20s—even after they’ve moved to different countries. I recently visited a couple whose 22-year-old son came home at 5:00 AM; the mother knew exactly where he had been for the last twelve hours. I simply don't get it. Unless there is a genuine emergency requiring the police, why play detective?

I refuse to do that to my daughter. Relationships should be built on trust, not surveillance. My rule is simple: text us when you’re heading home so we know when to expect you. Other than that? Enjoy your life.

When I was 17, my parents had no clue what I was up to half the time (which is lucky, or I might have been sent to a convent!). We’d tell my mom to drop us at the rink, then sneak off to teen discos like "Just for Kicks" or "Club Chicago," racing back to the Carlton Centre just in time for pickup. It was innocent fun, and we learned how to navigate the world on our own. Maybe the parents who monitor their kids today are just afraid their children are doing exactly what we did!

My advice? Give the kids a break. Let them grow up and "bump their heads" a little. And as for me? If I don’t answer your WhatsApp until Monday, don’t take it personally. If it was urgent, you would have called... right?

Reflections on 2024 ... what a year. (Part 1)

  2024

I know I need to reflect on 2024, Why it was a Milestone year and I noticed that I only blogged less than a hand full of times.
I meant to have at least one post every single month, but as always life got in the way & work of course.

Let me go back to the beginning, 

January .... Sick and tired you've been hanging on me 

Not too much happened on the Social Scene, we played Tennis (Workclub) and we started a brand new project that was going to take the guts of over a year to complete, we are finishing Milestone 3 at the end of Jan '25 and will have the final hurdle before we go live ... exciting times. 

February .... google says  - the second month of the year in the northern hemisphere, usually considered the last month of winter ... really???  

We have a bank holiday the first Monday in Feb, it's a new one they brought in from 2023, St. Brigid's day.   So we took the day and went off to Kilkenny with my half grand niece (long story) and her husband to have lunch and do some exploring. 

March - Britannica says "March, 3rd month of the Gregorian Calendar.  It was named after Mars, the Roman god of war. Originally March was the first month of the Roman calendar. 

The month before I was due to take the whole of April off, my birthday month!  It snowed on the 1st, it always seems to snow at the start of March!  

Played more tennis, and it was Mothers day and St. Patrick's day.   The VP came over from the US and we had a night out at the Church, free bar (haven't had those in a while). 

We also took the opportunity to go up to Newcastle in Northern Ireland for a night at a lovely 5 star hotel that was having a special deal, the Slieve Donard hotel. 

We then left for South Africa on the 30th of March and arrived on the Sunday 31st. 

April -  April is a spring month in the northern half of the world and a fall month in the southern half. It might be named after Aphrodite, the goddess of love.

1st of April, I had arranged a "Birthday Brunch" at "Proud Mary" in Rosebank my favorite restaurant when I come to Jo'burg.  A group of my old life long school friends as well as my Best friend and her mum and sister, my MIL and a few other friends.   It was a great day catching up with everyone. 

We did so much in the April we were there, a few days in Mabalingwe Nature reserve, and another birthday party at the Greek restaurant.   My BFF's mum who was supposed to come away with us to Mabalingwe was diagnosed the day we left with liver cancer, so she could not join us which was so disappointing. 

We went down to Mossel Bay and onto Cape Town, did the helicopter ride, caught up with so many friends and family members and had an awesome time.  Stayed in the Winchester Hotel in Sea point, that was amazing, not so much the service but lovely hotel. The place we stayed at in Mossel Bay was amazing, do try it if ever you are down that way ... it's called "Baylodge" and if you pre book and pay with them they give you a special rate, you step out from the boutique hotel straight onto the beach. 

We got back to Jo'burg on Friday 19th of April, so we had a week to relax and see friends, before leaving to go back to Ireland.   The week whizzed past.  It was Irene's 86th Birthday on the 21st of April, and had it not been for us taking over my late father in laws wheelchair she would not have managed to join us even for the brief time she did. 

We then went over to her on the Wednesday to spend time with Irene, it was probably the most amazing time I had with her on a one to one basis even though we had, had plenty, we spoke about everything.   She had a nurse looking after her, and when the nurse told her it was time for her to rest, she told her to sod off as she had guests... us.   We eventually left.    The next day on the way to the airport G did a video call with Irene and the way she was speaking was like she was saying Goodbye permanently - I was so upset I cried all the way back to Ireland. 

On Tuesday morning the 30th of April at 2:30 am I got the dreaded call from Gwen to say she had passed away.

I knew right then I had to go back. 

May ... It was named after Maia, a Roman fertility goddess.

Luckily while I was away for the month of April, the project at work had been put on hold due to a Security issue which had to be rectified with all the current systems, so I hadn't really missed much, and we would really only be starting again later in May, it was my opportunity to tell my boss that I was going back to South Africa for 2 weeks.  

The 2 weeks flew, it was eventful - I flew EgyptAir and managed to get an upgrade so it wasn't too bad, but no, never do Cairo on my own again.  I spent the first few days helping Sheila with the memorial service arrangements and then took my MIL through to the memorial service.   I had gone with G & A to the crematorium a few days previously which was probably worse than the service. 

I spent another week, just being with the family - too much happened that wasn't great so I am not going to reflect on that period anymore.   

Oh I forgot to mention, I met cousins and family I had never met before, through the My heritage DNA match I found some family on my mother's side "de Villiers" and had the great pleasure of meeting them.  Antoinette, Ollie, Caryn and Megan from the "Botes" side of my moms family. 

The rest of May was just work, work, work. 

June ... Named after Juno, the goddess of youth.

My Baby's 21st birthday!  Wow, what a lady she has become and started Uni this year as well. 

We played more tennis ... then my cousin's wife and her nephew arrived from SA for a couple of days, it was awesome, I took them sightseeing and we had such a great time.

I then thought I would have a nice break before my MIL was due to arrive from SA in July, however there were other secret plans happening...

I had been out with the guys from Tennis for dinner and got back home around 8:30 or 9:00 pm only to be surprised by my BFF from Australia sitting in my lounge all the way from Perth, I had not seen her in 5 years, what a surprise.   

It was the most amazing visit, unfortunately I could not take leave but I was able to spend loads of time with her, and because of the long summer nights we just had the most amazing time.   I don't know how my liver coped, we had at least 1 bottle of wine every single night for the entire time she visited, which was about 10 days if I remember correctly.   Long story but her daughter Dani was in England visiting her boyfriend who was playing cricket and so she came over for a few nights too.

I was so sorry to see them go!  The best visitors ever. 

to be continued ... 

Blood & Water

 

If you have never seen the Netflix Series "Blood & Water" - I am not going to tell you to go and watch it, but I did find it good.  One of the best series to come out of the New South Africa in many years. 

The first 3 series were really about these kids in a private school in Cape Town and about a child who was kidnapped and trafficked as a baby and in the end lead up to the perpetrators being caught and arrested and everyone being exposed and how it affected some of these children whose wealthy parents were involved in the whole scandal.   Just a brief synopsis. 

So yesterday I was off sick, I am so tired of looking for something decent to watch on TV and Netflix, but I went straight to Netflix and what was there waiting for me - YES series 4 of Blood & Water, a good way to kill 4 hours (6 episodes in a series & no advertisements).

I had thought that after Series 3 there would not be another one, but of course you are always left on a cliff hanger after every series. 

They gave you a recap on what had happened previously, but this series spoke about cheating in Matric exams (kids stealing test papers) and a blackmailing incident and sex tapes which eventually led down to a pupil at this private school who had been bullied and how it affected his whole future and ruined his life. 

It's something that I brought up a few years ago when someone was trying to organize a school reunion, and suddenly the school bullies got involved and started deleting people they did not want to attend the reunion from the WhatsApp group. 

It took me back 40 years and reminded me how this person bullied me and I decided to walk away leave the slack channel - the next thing I got a private message from this person and I just had to let everything out that had been supressed for over 40 years, they said they can't believe I am saying these things as they don't remember every bullying me.  But I guess I wasn't the only person they bullied.  

It reminded me of something I read one day:

People may not remember what you said, but they will always remember how you make them feel!  

And I totally agree, I don't remember what was said to me, but I do remember being excluded and how I felt on many occasions. 

If you don't want to watch all 4 series and you were a bully at school, just do yourself a favour and watch Series number 4. 

I am grateful to work for a company where Mental Health is so important and there is always someone to help you.  Gone are the days where you had to leave your problems at home and not bring them to the office and great that companies are prepared to help their workers through all their mental issues they have. 

Top Hits of 1964 - Spotify

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Milestones ... Growing Older

 I guess having a Milestone birthday this year has made me think about life and ponder on everything.  

Growing up we have our Music Idols, the Beatles, the Rolling Stones etc and you never really put an age on any of them ... then all of a sudden you hear "Mick Jagger" is turning 80 .... Whaaaat that means that I must be turning ... I mean after all these guys have been around playing music since before I was born, the rolling stones started playing in 1962. 

Last week on BBC4 they started re-running shows from when "Top of the Pops" started airing back in 1964 yes it's 60 years old!  

What happened to the years we lived, for some of us our 20's we spent partying, then 30's got a bit more responsible got married, had a kid, in our 40's raised the kid - did a bit of travelling, and all the time worked!  Suddenly we get to our 50's and you can see the end is getting closer, I mean face it as Freddie Mercury said - "Who wants to live forever"?  Especially as your body gets older, sure I would love to live forever if I could say be 55 healthy and strong ... forever!  But of course that won't happen. 

I know I hate the fact that I am turning that big six O number, a lot of our friends never even made it to 50 - I have had a good life, despite all the ups and downs, and I have learnt so much and then you have to find answers to those questions that nag you (I mean me)?

Why was I born?
What have I accomplished in my life?
Why is there so much sadness in the world, why was I born into a white family and not into a family who lives in a township?
Why, Why, Why, as Johnny Nash said - "There are more questions than answers".

This post is going to be very long, so I will break it up and leave you with one of my favourite videos of Marc Bolan, with Elton John on Piano and Ringo Starr playing the drums. 

Remembering Covid Lockdown

 

The Covid Lockdown period seems like a million years ago now, but not sure if you also feel that 2 years of your life disappeared, and you can't remember what happened in those two years?

There are so many people especially the elderly that were affected detrimentally by Covid, and so many of them that passed away.   I guess we were the lucky ones who were able to work from home, but it was hard on my daughter who did half of her transition year and her final 2 years of schooling at home.  She was also affected by a boy in her class who had an aneurysm.  He woke up one morning with a headache and within an hour he was on life support in the hospital, only 18 years old an only child and so much to live for. 

However, there are so many stories like that, again I was the lucky one – I have never put this down in writing, but in 2019 early March I got Pneumonia, after a trip to the Clinic and loads of medicine, I do not remember what happened as it felt like an out of body experience.   That happened on a Friday evening, I cannot remember anything about the weekend, on the Monday my husband left me to sleep and went to work, when he could not get hold of me on the phone and felt that something was wrong he came home, to find me collapsed on the bedroom floor.

He called the Ambulance who were there within minutes, they had to resuscitate me and put 2 main lines in the sides of my neck.  Apparently, they had to resuscitate me again on the way to the hospital.  I was in ICU in a coma.  When I woke up 10 days later, it was St. Patrick’s Day as “D” had been at the hospital everyday talking to me, and on this day, I woke up with him telling me that our daughter had gone to the St. Patrick’s Day parade in the city.  He was also telling me that everyone was praying for me, and I just thought WTF is he talking about.

I probably only realized a few days later, I had no clue what was going on or why I was in the hospital, but I was on a respirator and the hospital had done so much to save my life.   Now most people think, or I certainly did, that when you come out of a coma you can just get up and get on with it.  Well, I did learn the hard way!  I had to learn to walk, talk, eat, and do everything myself again.

After having spent two weeks in ICU, I spent another 2 weeks in a private ward getting rehabilitation every day.  All the holidays I spent in the hospital, Mother’s Day, my birthday, I was home for Easter thank goodness and then home for another month recuperating.   By this time, I had run out of paid sick leave, so really wanted to get back to the office, the Occupational therapist suggested against it and put me on a phased return to work.

Not long after I returned to work I had a month off as I had booked a trip to SA for the July, it was the last family holiday that we would go on all together.
I returned to work in the August which I think was far too soon, my body and my mind had not fully recovered from the Ordeal.  Then 7 months later Covid hit (although it was around a lot longer than that as I am sure that is what I had).  We went into Lockdown exactly a year after I had ended up in ICU, it was one of the BEST things that could ever have happened to ME!  I had no stress; I could plan my day with 4 or 5 walks a day.  

When we were able to travel locally, D & I also did a few trips around Ireland and stayed at some magnificent places. Emily had asked for a cat while we were in Lockdown, so this meant that we either had to get a cat sitter or someone had to stay home.  Worked out well (sometimes).  But that is a whole other story about teenage parties!!!

I am so grateful to have had Lockdown to recuperate fully from my ordeal in 2019, but I am sad for those people that it effected in a different way.  I am sad because we lost so many of our elderly relatives during that time.

What do you remember?  Besides watching an awful lot of Television, watching WHO on a daily basis told how bad it was and how many people have it and have died.  Boris Johnson having parties during Lockdown, Donald Trump saying it was all a Hoax to start with – was it, were the pharmaceutical companies just profiteering from this?  There are so many unanswered questions which I guess will take years before we find out the truth!  

Whatever happened to ...

 I was watching "Young Adult" on Netflix with Charlize Theron as the main actor, I must say I actually Fast Forwarded through a lot of the movie as it was really slow, but it got me thinking back to when I left the South, and when I moved back and where I am now!

I left the South back in 1985 or 86 and moved with my then boyfriend to Randburg, young stupid and in love.  Well that didn't work out and I moved back home at the end of 1987 after breaking up with said boyfriend, changed jobs, and the new job was closer to home, however staying at home was always restrictive but I could not afford to live on my own.    

My best friend at the time lived out in Linbro Park, I could drive I had my own car so ended up moving to "Party City", I was there for 2 years and then moved back in with the x in a new apartment in Randburg, a year later I was back home again another new job and saving like mad to afford my own place. 

It was never to be, I worked for a great company - lots of young adults and we partied like crazy and that is were I met my husband!  We eventually got married in '95 and that is when I moved out of my childhood home in Linmeyer for the last time.   The only time we ever ventured back to the South was to visit my mom or help out a friend or relative who was moving.

Life Happens and we all chose different paths in life, from about '95 a lot of my friends were moving to Greener pastures.  I never really bumped into anyone from school when I was back in the South and presumed that most of my school friends had moved away.   Only to find out years later through the grapevine that a lot of school mates where still there.

It's funny how life turns out, how the guy who was expelled in Std. 8 for having weed at school is now a successful millionaire who owns his own company. 

All those that went to university have had success in their lives and have moved on.  

When you are approaching that big birthday in a few months and you realize you have lived more years than you have left, and what have you done in those years?   

Life has been kind to me, my number was called a few times, but the Universe kept saying "Not yet" you haven't finished living, so I guess I am one of the lucky ones. 

In Facebook there is a page called: The Hill High School Rememberance Wall  and it is so sad to see how many of my school mates have gone before me.

I am lucky to still be in contact with a number of my school friends and still see them when I come over to South Africa every now and then, and the conversation always ends up with "Whatever happened to ..."  and someone will always know something.  It was the same when I met up with Martin and Gavin.  I wonder if my name ever comes up in someone's conversation and what they say about me, I guess I will never know! 

Do you ever still reminisce about the one that got away, or the boyfriend you had in high school and whether you may have ended up together.  I can only think of one couple I know who married out of High School and are still together - Bev & Ivan. 

Johannesburg 1912

 One of the blogs I follow is called: Johannesburg 1912 – suburb by suburb research 

As an ex-Jo'burger it is really interesting to know the history, on Marc Latilla's blog he recently wrote a post about Hotels of Early Johannesburg, and wow what a blast from the past as some of the hotels were still there during my party days after leaving school.  

 A lot of the Night clubs we frequented would have been in these hotels, or we would have had the priviledge of going there for a meal at some stage, if you are curious have a read. (Link is in the title above). 

South African diaspora

Have you ever wondered how many South Africans have left South Africa in the last 30+ years?

Please don't bother googling it because the numbers they give you, is far less than what the real number is, that have left. 

We never officially emigrated from South Africa and still have bank accounts, tax numbers etc.  therefore, we are not classed in the number they give.   To see the ridiculous number they do give you need to check out Wikipedia.  One website put the number up to 2020 as 915,000 - cannot be, unless they are not counting those who have dual citizenship with another country?

Firstly, the ones who were able to leave first were those who had the insight to see that the country would eventually fall into disrepair and could find work in another country quite easily, along with some who had a foreign passport.

However, I have found that majority of my friends who still live in South Africa have foreign passports, so why aren't they leaving?  Well as my really good friend once told me, South Africa is a beautiful country, and you can live there really cheaply and also employ people to do things for you without costing you a huge amount of money. (But if you are white, you need to own your own company or have some kind of income) -  And ... then came the and, if something bad happens in this country, then the government of the United Kingdom will expatriate us immediately, because we have a British passport.

So hence the need to Emigrate and find another passport!  

White South Africans were all immigrants into the country, those fleeing persecution would have left in their home countries in the 1600's up until the 1800's, the newer immigrants probably came to South Africa in the late 19th Century - 20th Century at the time of the Gold rush, and they were clever to hold onto their heritage and passport from their birth country.   A bit like what we did when we came to Ireland and applied for dual citizenship before applying for Irish Citizenship, so that we could have both passports - should we ever need them. 

The immigrants who came to South Africa after the 1960's would have been all the Rhodesians due to the war, who either came to SA or went to the UK, Australia, or other destinations.  Then in the 70's when Mozambique was fighting for their independence, a lot of the White Portuguese settlers, either went back to Portugal or came down to South Africa.

In La Rochelle which was nicknamed "Little Portugal" a lot of the refugee families settled there with other relatives and integrated into the area. 

If I take a look at the list of my friends on the "Book of Face" who still live in SA, majority of them would be privileged to have these Foreign Passports, British, Portuguese, Spanish, Greek to name a few and the rest, well a lot have done what we have and made a life for themselves somewhere else, others have ensured that their kids have been given a good education so that they can get jobs in another country.  

Why, I am sure that most of "you" who regularly read my blog are part of the "South African diaspora", I don't think there are many who still live in SA who do read it.    I write my blog to hold onto those memories that we had in SA and to share my experiences and thoughts since leaving.  

Since 2020 not only White South Africans have left but a huge number of Black South African's have left too. This year alone I have met and spoken to so many New South African Immigrants in Ireland, working in Deli's, pet shops, coffee shops, concert venues etc. etc. and majority have been here less than a year.   They are stating that the infrastructure is falling apart, just look at the load shedding - if you google the stats since 2015,  2022 is the highest by far on record, however 2023 has already overtaken 2022, people cannot live like that. 

Where are you from?