Johannesburg, South Africa

I was sorry to leave Nairobi, I felt so at home there and had such a good time with the family. Dan and Elisa made a lot of effort to show me around so I could see the country, and I loved it. However,  South Africa called. It is my birthplace, but there was a certain sadness of going back knowing so many of my family had passed on. I knew it would not be the same, but it was a good feeling that finally after years of regretting that I had not taken the boys to South Africa when they were younger, Dan was now coming with me and his family.

A final ride to the airport with a friend of Maina, who had a large van for all our luggage, and off we went to Johannesburg on Kenya Airways business class, courtesy of Elisa's frequent flier miles (there is a benefit to all those trips she makes. Hopefully easier now she is in Africa and not commuting from New York!) The flight was about 4 1/2 hours. It was very smooth and comfortable with great views of the Kariba Dam going over Zimbabwe. How I remember when a student in London, those wonderful summer holidays

I had in the Zambezi Valley with John and Betty, and John flying us in to the Kariba airport in the little Cessna 150.   On the Kenya flight, there was only one little thing that could have been better. More time to enjoy our meal. As we were the only people in business class, our flight attendant concentrated all her attention on us, and the meal was served very efficiently, with not much time to savour the actually pretty good food. As we went further south, the terrrain became greener. I learnt later that the Johannesburg area had had more rain than usual.

The airport is world-class, very impressive, spruced up I suppose,  for the World Cup. I could tell immediately that in the 44 years since I had been in South Africa, so much had changed. First of all it was no longer the Union of  South Africa that I grew up in, run by the British, now Africans were working in all sectors as equals.  The young African man that sold us the SIM cards for our phones was very knowledgeable, efficient and helpful, I hadn't a clue what to do about my phone.

We had arranged for a driver to meet us and take us to the B&B breakfast I had booked in Sandton. Frank became our driver on several trips, and he too was very interesting to talk to about many things. A great help to us as we were not the average tourist-type. He was very adept at getting all our luggage and us into a VW Passat.

Sandton was not an area I remembered from my schooldays. In fact, I am not sure it existed then. The whole area from Rosebank where I used to live, to Sandown where I went for my riding lessons, and is adjacent to Sandton, is now suburbs, where before it was way out in the countryside.  Sandton itself is a mini-city, built during the difficult 1980s when there was so much trouble in downtown Johannesburg. The Sandton Mall (as luxurious as any mall in the US), was built first to make shopping easier and safer for the suburbanites, then banks and businesses came out as well.

Frank was very patient with me, as I looked for familiar places which no longer existed. However, I remembered most of the locations and we drove around and found some of them. My earliest memory was of an hotel, the Balalika, where my parents and I would go for social events. There was a large thatched-roof rondavel which was used as a ballroom and dining room. I seem to remember a children's birthday party there. As South Africans spent a lot of time outside, there are always lovely lawns and playgrounds for children to run around in, while the grownups chat away. There were ponies for gentle rides at the Balalaika. A few years later, when I was with my father and his second wife Joy, we were living in a cottage on the Balalaika property with toddler Charles. It was there 50 years ago, during rest time after lunch, lying on the soft grassy lawn, listening to some heavenly music, I decided I wanted to be a musician. I have those memories of the Balalaika more in my head than the upscale modern hotel it has become in Sandton, surrounded by city streets and buildings.

Sandton Mall and Mandela Square

My old school, Redhill, was where I remembered it, although the road which we walked down from the main road was now paved, instead of being  gravel. Frank talked the security guard into letting us in through the main gate and we could see some of the older buildings with thatched roofs that I remembered. One had a particular memory for me. When I was a 7 year-old at the school (it was boarding), two of the older girls were planning to run away and asked me if I would like to join them. Although I was not at all unhappy at the school, I said yes, as I thought I would go visit my brother in Rhodesia, now Zimbabwe, a thousand miles away. So we carefully and secretly packed up our things, including toothbrushes, and somehow crept out of the grounds. As I mentioned, we were in the countryside (veldt), the road was gravelled and there were few houses on this very dark road. The girls decided to spend the night in the garden of a day-girl's home, down the road from the school (how far, I don't remember) and we settled in under a large tree. The day-girl must have heard noises,  as she came outside and found us, but assured us her parents were out and we would be OK in the garden. However, it wasn't long before the parents returned and were told we were taken back to school. I suffered the least punishment because of my age. The other girls were expelled from the school, but I was put into the headmistress's house and not allowed to go to my dormitory or classes for a week. I was given books to read and there were 2 kittens to play with. I was perfectly happy. My mother came to visit and brought me some sweets, but I was not allowed to have them.

When at school, or if I was at home nearby in Rosebank,  we were taken  to church on Sundays at St. Martin's in the Veld, and although it is in the suburbs now and has been renovated, (it seems bigger and missing the thatched roof), there still is the feeling of the old church.

Not far from St. Martin's it seemed, was my home on Bath Ave when I was a young child. It was on a small plot with a lawn in front and a driveway on the side. Although Bath Ave is still there, the  number of  the house, 52, does not exist, so I think it must have been re-numbered at some time. 54 Bath Ave is now a very elegant hotel, The Grace, but it is on the corner of Bath and Tyrwhitt Ave. I remembered that we would walk towards Tyrwhitt to go to Stuttafords for afternoon tea.  We walked away from Tyrwhitt Ave. along  a block which looked familiar, with small overgrown plots. The houses were either torn down or overgrown by trees and bushes. I like to think it was there somewhere, and hadn't been bulldozed away.  

Here are two photos of my third birthday there.


One place I remembered well was the Johannesburg Park. Frank drove Dan, Zoe and me out there on Dec. 28 (Elisa was tired and a cold was coming on). The park also houses the National Military Museum. As Dad was in the SAAF during WWII, I was interested in seeing it.
There are interesting exhibits, and a Spitfire and a couple of Messerschmidts which I suppose had been shot down. I was hoping to get a book or some information from the shop, but the owner or the shop assistant was very unhelpful, either talking on the phone or taking his dog out for a pee, so I gave up.

Johannesburg Zoo Lake



Mum and Jane(in Redhill uniform) on the lake in the Johannesburg Park





 

 

Going to the lake was much better and it was just as I had remembered it.

My brother John must have come up to visit us, and with Mum we went to the park and rowed in the lake. This is also where Mum met my friend Louise (about 3 years old) who had come to the park with her Grandmother and walked away, and Mum found her. Alice, Louise's grandmother, was visiting from England, so she and Mum had a lot in common and they became lifelong friends. The friendship continued with Louise's parents and Louise and I have become good friends. Louise was very good to Mum when Mum was living in sheltered accommodation in London and then in the nursing home in Blackwater. All that from a chance encounter in a park!

There was a lovely playground for Zoe, but no shade, and the kids couldn't play on the equipment as it was too hot.  It is the same in the US, designers build beautiful playgrounds which the children can't play in because the slides and swings are burning hot. 

We went to Moyos, an African-themed restaurant for lunch in the park overlooking the lake, and although it was delicious, it was mostly European food with a few African/exotic spices.

 

 

 Zoe had fallen asleep in Dan's arms during lunch, so we opted for a drive around the suburbs before returning to the B&B. Johannesburg is the best city in the world for greenery. Immaculate parks everywhere with pristine lawns that the public is allowed to walk on! Streets with canopies of jacaranda trees, even after all this time I still have a picture in my head of those gorgeous avenues, breath-taking in the purply-blue blossom time.

December 29, our last day in Johannesburg. We were packed up and checked out by 10:30 for Frank to pick us up. The B&B had been pleasant enough, with the lawn and pool, and having a guest kitchen/lounge, but the breakfasts were minimal - all cold, not scrambled eggs or other hot items we had in the other B&Bs we stayed in. It was also in deep suburbia and we felt far away from everything. Frank was able to get all our stuff packed away, but it was certainly tight.

We decided that Dan and Elisa would go to the Apartheid Museum http://www.apartheidmuseum.org/ and I would take Zoe to the amusement park next to it. However, when we got there, we discovered it was a theme park, like Busch Gardens and quite unsuitable for Zoe. We all went into the museum  and I saw most of it before taking Zoe out into the natural bush area and wetlands nearby. It was a lovely day, not too hot, there had been storms in Johannesburg in the night, cooling down the temperature. There was a cafe in the grounds and we all met up for a good lunch together. Dan and Elisa were very interested in the museum, it was of course a real eye-opener seeing and reading how apartheid had come into being, and is now thankfully gone by law. 

We left for the airport, said goodbye to Frank and checked in with no complications, in spite of all our luggage.

I had mixed feelings about leaving Johannesburg, the place where I have most of my early childhood memories. It has changed so much, and I have no family or friends left there, but I was still sorry to say goodbye.

Interestingly enough, we had to take a bus to the plane.