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On a recent visit to Bloemfontein, I made a point of stopping at an old favourite: Stadium, a long-standing burger restaurant with several branches scattered around the city and into Heidedal. For many locals, Stadium isn’t just a place to grab a bite—it’s part of Bloemfontein’s food identity.

The Stadium Fast Foods Legacy: At a Glance

• Founded: 5 May 1980

• Founder: Johnny Pereira, who blended Portuguese culinary roots with classic South African padstal hospitality

• Origin story: Pereira bought an old-fashioned café on the corner of Ella Street and Park Road. Because it stood directly opposite the Free State Stadium (now Toyota Stadium), he renamed it Stadium—and a local icon was born.

• The original location: The Park Road branch, still regarded as the “mother store,” has served rugby crowds for over four decades, including during the 1995 and 2010 Rugby World Cups.

• Expansion: From that single café, Stadium has grown into a Bloemfontein institution with more than 10 branches.

• Key branches today:

• Park Road (the original, next to the stadium)

• Zastron Street (a Westdene favourite)

• Curie Avenue (with a convenient drive-thru)

• Langenhoven Park (The Park Shopping Centre)

• Twin City Mall (serving the Heidedal community)

• The secret sauce: Stadium is famous for its Portuguese-style burgers, especially the Beef & Egg Burger and the massive Dagwood—burgers that have become synonymous with “stadium food” in Bloemfontein.

Visiting the Original Stadium

We went to the Park Road branch near the Free State rugby stadium, which is widely regarded as where it all began. This original store still captures the spirit of the brand.

The menu is straightforward: burgers, fish, and chips. Nothing fancy, but that’s part of the appeal. Inside, the restaurant is clean and neat, with small tables and a relaxed atmosphere. While the surrounding area of Bloemfontein feels a bit tired, it still seemed reasonably safe during our visit, and a car guard looked after our vehicle outside.

Food, Prices, and the Overall Experience

Prices are fairly sharp. I wouldn’t call them an absolute bargain, but the food is tastier and better priced than what you’d typically get at the big international burger chains like McDonald’s or Burger King, where the burgers can feel bland and forgettable. (I’ll exclude Steers here, as their burgers are genuinely tasty and many people swear by their chips.)

Service is reasonably good, and the food arrives quickly. But the real attraction is that Stadium offers something different. It’s not a global franchise—it’s a local experience, and one that feels uniquely Bloemfontein.

Why Stadium Still Matters

Perhaps the most important thing about Stadium is this: it was founded in Bloemfontein and has largely remained rooted here. In a world dominated by international fast-food brands, Stadium stands as a proudly local burger chain that has survived—and thrived—for over four decades.

If you’re visiting Bloemfontein and want to experience a true local favourite, Stadium is well worth the stop.

Yesterday, I watched thousands of crayfish being landed at Gordon’s Bay Harbour.

They were brought in by artisanal fishermen operating under permits issued by the marine authorities. The process was tightly controlled. The crayfish were placed in plastic crates, weighed on a verified scale, and observed and recorded by several inspectors assigned to each catch.

The big concern on the day was air temperature, which is critical to keeping the crayfish alive. Because these crayfish were destined for export, they had to be kept cool on the boats and then transferred quickly into a chiller truck running at about 7°C. From there, they would be taken to a processing facility, where they would be revived in holding baths before eventually being packed for export.

This brings me to prices.

We were told that export prices have dropped, mainly due to increased volumes of crayfish (or lobster) entering the global market from Australia and Mexico. The price being paid for the Gordon’s Bay catch was about $35 per kilogram. The fishermen were hoping for closer to $45 per kilogram, which is what they had become used to in recent years.

The recent dip in crayfish prices at Gordon’s Bay is a direct reflection of a shifting global tide. After a four-year hiatus, Australia has aggressively re-entered the international market, flooding major hubs such as China with record-breaking volumes of Southern Rock Lobster. Combined with steady supply from Mexico, this release of stock has created a global surplus. Locally, South Africa has also seen a massive 58% increase in the legal catch limit for the 2025/2026 season. With more lobster available globally than at any time in the past five years, buyers now have the upper hand, forcing local “beach prices” down from their previous highs.

If you’re a local in False Bay, though, you’ll still pay a fortune for crayfish at restaurants. The last crayfish I ate was about two years ago at a local seafood restaurant, where a whole crayfish was selling for around R150 with rice or chips. It was very small. In fact, they were all very small.

It’s a pity that locals can’t eat crayfish at lower prices, but with the strong commercial and export interests involved, that’s not going to happen. There is, however, a limited season for recreational fishermen and divers, when you can legally catch crayfish yourself and cook it at home at a far more reasonable cost.

While standing at the harbour, I couldn’t help thinking about the tons upon tons of crayfish that are illegally harvested. Crayfish poaching remains high, and newspaper reports regularly describe hundreds of kilograms being confiscated at a time. It’s the same story as with perlemoen (abalone), a species that has been heavily decimated by poachers.

So yes, it’s an interesting and even impressive experience watching crayfish being landed at Gordon’s Bay Harbour. But behind this cottage industry lies a far more troubling reality: increasing pressure on the marine environment from overfishing and illegal poaching. And that is the sad part of the story.

It started last year. I stumbled on a video of a French chef. He’s about ninety, moving calmly around his kitchen, turning stale bread into golden little pancakes. No fancy cuts, no measured ingredients—just a man and his hands, trusting his instincts. I loved that. I loved his ease.

I watched more of his videos: how to make an omelette, how to build a sauce. Basic things, but he made them feel like quiet rituals. He didn’t measure; he felt. And somehow, watching him chop an onion without rushing gave me more confidence in my own kitchen than any precise recipe ever had.

That was my gateway. Then the algorithm—TikTok’s eerie, intuitive brain—kicked in. It started sending me cooking shorts from everywhere. An Italian couple, probably in Dubai, rolling out pasta dough like it’s second nature. Niina, a young Japanese woman with a crisp British accent, guiding you through her Tokyo kitchen. You’re not just learning a dish; you’re in her home, hearing her fan hum, seeing her bowls. It’s intimate.

Then came the Italian-Americans. A clip from some family kitchen in New York, voices loud and hands waving. You get the real lowdown—the gestures, the asides, the unedited joy. For a minute, you’re there. Not reading about it. There.

And that’s the thing. I saw a “quick meal” recipe in a newspaper the other day. The ingredient list alone made me glaze over, so I put it down. But with TikTok, I watched that French chef make something, walked to my kitchen, and cooked it without looking back. No steps to remember. Just a feeling—a visual rhythm I’d absorbed. Turns out I’m a visual learner—always have been—and I never knew how much that mattered until I started watching instead of reading.

Oh, and about that French chef—I looked him up. Jacques Pépin. He’s written 34 books. He was the chef for Charles de Gaulle. He turned down a job from JFK. He’s a legend. And I found him between a dancing cat and a viral prank. I can’t believe the quality of content you can stumble upon now. It’s not just cooking. It’s history, relationships, skills, voices from everywhere—real people, showing real things, without polish.

So if you want to learn something fast, and feel it in your hands, try TikTok. Don’t search. Just watch. Let it bring the world to you—one short, human, unmeasured moment at a time.

Bon appétit. And happy cooking.

I walked along Kalk Bay Main Road yesterday, bumped and elbowed by foreign and local tourists alike. All were vying for the various attractions Kalk Bay has to offer, mostly commercial. Kalk Bay is a mix of small retail clothing boutiques and touristy knick-knacks, several of them handcrafted by locals from the southern suburbs and further afield.

The first thing you won’t find in Kalk Bay is groceries. There is no grocery shop in Kalk Bay. As Dave Knowall told me — and he’s an expert on matters like this — who wants a grocery store in Kalk Bay anyway? Low margins, and you want to keep away the riffraff starting those little hole-in-the-wall foreign-owned shops that have crowded out Fish Hoek Main Road.

The second thing you won’t find in Kalk Bay is newspapers. The daily newspaper is not to be found anywhere. I looked. Yes, you could say that newspapers aren’t popular today — just look around. In so-called traditional places where newspapers used to be stacked almost a metre high, you’ll now find a pile four or five papers deep, usually in a supermarket. But not in Kalk Bay.

Willie Coetsuur was disappointed that he couldn’t find an Afrikaans newspaper like Die Burger. Sorry, Willie — they don’t sell any newspapers at all. You’ll have to go to Fish Hoek or Muizenberg if you want one. Dave Knowall did tell me, though, that the bookshop in Kalk Bay sells the weekend Financial Times. He can afford it, perhaps, but for others it’s just become too expensive. These days a weekend Financial Times costs R175. Perhaps you could buy half a non-fiction book, or half a novel, for that price.

The third thing you won’t find in Kalk Bay is any franchised takeaway. No pizza joints, no fried chicken outlets, no burger takeaway restaurants. The reason probably is that fast-food franchise chains dare not tread into Kalk Bay because they might be shunned. More likely, the real story is that there’s very little retail space left, and overseas and local tourists aren’t looking for junk food when they come to a scenic place like Kalk Bay. They want something different, something exotic, something they haven’t had before. You can find some of that at the tiny little restaurants along the main road.

Claire Haverway, who’s an expert in many things, pulled up her nose when I told her this. She said, “Oh no, those horrible, disgusting places. Who wants to eat food like that? It’s just junk. It’s bad for you. It would lower the tone of Kalk Bay drastically. Thank goodness there aren’t any of those.”

So all those fast-food places are stuffed into the main road of Fish Hoek, where they’re doing a roaring trade, thank you very much.

Yes, Kalk Bay is different. It’s a tourist destination. Not for the locals — unless you count the coffee shops, where they sit pencilling budgets and quotations, working on laptops in their slops or bare feet. Or walking down the street with yoga mats rolled under their arms and tofu lunch packs tucked into their biodegradable bags.

No, this isn’t the title of a new song for the 2025–2026 season.

Nor is it an AI-generated track that might become a hit in 2026.

It’s simply about going back to school and going back to work.

After many sunshiny days, the Southern Peninsula gave holidaymakers one last generous gift this weekend. Seawater temperatures climbed above 20 degrees, the summer sun showed no mercy, and people were everywhere — in the water, under umbrellas, beneath small tents, all determined to stretch the festive season just a little bit further.

It felt like a whole army marching down to the beach and then marching back up again, all day long. Yesterday, the last day before work and school resumed, Mother Nature certainly delivered — for overseas visitors, up-country travellers, and locals alike.

But then reality returned.

The news and radio have been full of reminders that this is a tough time of year for parents. School uniforms, stationery, sports gear — all requiring deep pockets and brave faces. And that’s before school fees are even mentioned. Years ago, when I was paying them, they were shockingly high. I don’t even want to imagine what they are today. Shame, parents. Shame.

Thinking about school made me think about samis.

Yes, those sandwiches wrapped in brown paper bags or packed neatly into Tupperware containers. My mother often made me snoek sandwiches, and I remember feeling slightly embarrassed when other children pulled out pristine Tupperware filled with peanut butter and jam sandwiches, little Melrose cheese blocks, and tiny packets of peanuts and raisins — while I sat there with snoek.

Little did I know I was probably eating the most delicious sandwiches possible. All they needed was cracked black pepper and a squeeze of lemon juice.

What did you have in your samis? Some children dreaded polony. Others couldn’t stand peanut butter. Apricot jam was an all-time favourite. And Marmite — well, Marmite on its own is a bit of a poor cousin, but add cheese and suddenly it earns its place.

And whatever happened to biltong spread? The powdered kind you sprinkled on bread to create an instant biltong sandwich. It was surprisingly good — even better with Marmite. I rediscovered it once when I moved into a new place without a fridge. It didn’t need refrigeration and saved the day.

Cheese and chutney samis? Timeless.

Then it was back to work — with the familiar mix of backstabbing, brown-nosing, quiet knifing, and HR reminding you that you’re less a human being and more a line item on a spreadsheet. Add the occasional restructuring, transformation target, or “realignment,” and suddenly job security feels like a festive-season myth. So you grind it out for the rest of the year, counting down to the next December, hoping you’re still employed — and that there’s enough money left to escape for a few days.

The only consolation is that everyone is in the same boat. What softens the blow are the holiday stories — overseas adventures, coastal escapes, or “doing the Garden Route,” which sometimes simply meant watering the plants in your own backyard or feeding the birds in the aviary.

If you’re feeling the blues when you get home, listen to some blues. A favourite radio station or a Spotify playlist will do — preferably without a presenter talking over the music, explaining all evening how much they know about the genre.

The blues have changed over the years. It’s no longer just about longing for a lost love or a dusty American town. These days it’s raw and edgy — songs about bad relationships, bad decisions, and still plenty about whiskey, although beer has finally made an appearance.

So do whatever helps. Someone yesterday suggested deep breathing. Maybe they’re right.

At the end of today, take a deep breath and tell yourself:

you’ve made it through what might just be the worst day of the year.

Newspaper reports from the US say pizza sales at the big franchises are sliding. Apparently Americans are cheating on pizza with Chipotle burritos and coffee shops that sell drinks costing more than a whole meal used to. Even Yum! Brands, the company behind Pizza Hut, is reportedly considering selling the chain to beef up its menu elsewhere.

When last did you eat a pizza? I honestly can’t remember. It might have been last year. I may have a faulty memory, but I also have a fridge, a stove and far too many food choices. These days, pizza isn’t a special occasion — it’s just one option fighting for attention in a crowded takeaway world.

That said, pizza has always been a winner with children. It’s the reward meal. Eat your meat, rice and vegetables all week, and suddenly Friday arrives with melted cheese and permission to eat with your hands. No cutlery, no complaints.

But lately, even in Johannesburg, where pizza outlets once multiplied like olives on a supreme, many franchises have quietly disappeared. You don’t see them everywhere anymore. If you want a proper pizza now, you’re more likely to find it in an Italian restaurant with a fire oven and a chef who looks offended if you ask for extra pineapple.

And yet — here’s the twist — pizza is still doing just fine in South Africa. The rising middle class is keeping the dough rolling in, with fast food sales, including pizza, continuing to grow. People may eat out less often, but when they do, pizza is still invited.

The real problem, though, is price. It was all perfectly reasonable when a medium pizza cost R25 or maybe R30. Today, R100 is more realistic — and that’s before you add anything fancy. And don’t even start with the margarita. Too often it’s a dry base with a polite smear of tomato paste, like someone waved a tomato over it and said, “Good luck.” At that point, a fresh bread roll with whatever you want on it makes more sense.

Sure, pizza can still be fun. Home-made pizzas are often the best. I tried a few last year — black mussels, shrimps, capers, olives. Not bad at all. You won’t find that at your local pizza outlet, though. Community or otherwise.

Still, if you’re in a pub, a sports club or one of those sports bars where the TVs never rest, pizza remains the safe choice. When you don’t feel like a burger or the usual spare ribs and chips, pizza is there for you — reliable, filling and easy to share.

So while pizza sales may be wobbling in the US, here in South Africa, pizza still brings in the dough. The chips aren’t down for pizza — even if pizza has been around since the Romans and Egyptians, or so we’re told (though theirs probably didn’t come with extra cheese).

In the end, enjoy your pizza the right way: with friends, a decent beer or a glass of red wine — and no arguments about toppings.

https://theweek.com/business/pizza-decline-sales-takeout-prices

https://denirospizza.com/36-amazing-facts-you-didnt-know-about-pizza/

South Africa’s pizza market remains robust and growing, unlike the US decline. Valued at around ZAR 1.47 billion in recent years, it has shown steady expansion with a historical CAGR of over 10% (2018-2023), driven by urbanization, rising middle-class demand, delivery apps, and quick-service preferences. Prices rose modestly (~6% in 2023-2024), but overall value growth continues, with projections for further increases through 2030 amid economic recovery and convenience trends.

The landscape favors local dominance: Debonairs Pizza (Famous Brands) leads strongly, adding 27 new outlets in the 2025 financial year (one every two weeks), reaching 868 stores across 16 markets, mostly in South Africa. International chains like Domino’s exited, but Pizza Hut is actively expanding in the region, with ongoing growth in Sub-Saharan Africa (over 100 stores in South Africa and nearby), emphasizing localized menus (e.g., boerewors, peri-peri) and delivery. Smaller, independent community spots thrive on affordability and customization.

Stepping off the FlySafair aeroplane at Cape Town International Airport after returning from a wonderful festive season holiday in Johannesburg, I was greeted by a familiar old friend: a raging southeaster. Cape Town saying “welcome home” in the only way it knows how.

Fortunately, I was in good spirits. The flight had been shared with the People Need Comedy crew, and I was thoroughly entertained by their make-up artist sitting next to me, filling me in on backstage stories. Spirits were high enough that, almost immediately, the crew began filming passengers attempting to disembark while the wind tried to knock everyone back into the aircraft. Classic Cape Town initiation.

Driving along Boyes Drive later, False Bay came into view — and with it, an unexpected sight: warships. Lots of them.

Now, I’d already seen the reports. Chinese, Russian and Iranian naval vessels in False Bay. Local WhatsApp groups were doing what WhatsApp groups do best: circulating detailed breakdowns of every ship, its history, its armaments, and probably its horoscope. Still, seeing it with my own eyes made it real. Right there, across the water from where many of us live, something distinctly naval was happening.

The explanations vary. News reports offer all sorts of reasons for the exercise, from the geopolitically alarming to the almost mundane. Google it, or consult your favourite AI — you’ll get plenty of theories. Some are fairly odious. Others suggest a more practical angle: in a world where oil tankers are seized and shipping routes increasingly risky, navies train together. Sometimes a naval exercise is just… a naval exercise.

That said, if you scroll through social media or listen to braai-side commentary, the South African Navy doesn’t exactly enjoy glowing reviews these days. Horror stories abound: ships unable to sail, the major arms and ammunition theft case in Simon’s Town, and the deeply disturbing News24 report showing the shocking state of the naval barracks. The images were bleak — hazardous, undignified, and frankly heartbreaking. One does wonder how people are expected to live, let alone serve, in such conditions.

Still, warships remain oddly fascinating. There’s something about them — the scale, the symbolism, the quiet suggestion of power — that draws the eye.

And who knows, there may even be a small upside. Perhaps your next Temu parcel, sailing all the way from China with millions of others, will face a slightly lower risk of being hijacked on the high seas.

On the economic front, Business Day reported yesterday on South Africa’s growing trade imbalance with its BRICS partners. As of July 2025, South Africa is sitting with a combined trade deficit of about R253 billion — roughly $14 billion — with the rest of the bloc. In simple terms, everyone else is trading fiercely with South Africa, but not buying much in return.

Anyway, by Saturday the wind has dropped — or at least paused — and hopefully it stays that way. It probably won’t. The southeaster does love a dramatic afternoon entrance. But maybe there’s time for a swim before it ramps up again, before settling back into the last stretch of summer in the Cape.

And honestly, that feels like a fitting return to Cape Town — stepping off a plane from Johannesburg after deliberately spending the festive season there, missing the crowds, packed beaches, and crawling traffic, and arriving just as the city starts to feel like itself again.

Gosh, time flies. I had planned to write a summer piece on my return to Johannesburg after more than two years away. It was going to be analytical—especially since 2026 is an important year for the city, with municipal elections on the horizon. As we all know, Johannesburg faces serious challenges: roads, water, electricity, parks, buildings in need of repair, and the persistent issue of crime in the inner city.

But that’s not what this post is about.

After being away for so long, what struck me most was how lovely it felt to reconnect. This is simply a note of thanks—to Johannesburg and its people.

It was wonderful to see people I hadn’t seen in a very long time. Everywhere I went, I was met with warmth and friendliness. Johannesburg is, at heart, a friendly city. And this warmth cuts across all walks of life—from old friends to shop owners, from staff who greeted me with genuine smiles to those who remembered me and went out of their way to be helpful.

It was also exciting to see both new places and familiar ones that have been upgraded, particularly shopping areas and suburbs. Some parts of the city have clearly been well maintained and improved over the past two years. I’m thinking especially of Randburg and Bryanston—areas I frequented for many years when I lived here.

And then there was the weather. Tremendous. From scorching hot, windless sunny days to those always thrilling Highveld thunderstorms. Just last night, while having a meal at J’s Diner in Blairgowrie, we were sitting outside in the warm evening air when the first drops of rain fell. We rushed inside, knowing what was coming. Soon there were brilliant white flashes of lightning and the boom, boom, boom and crack, crack, crack of thunder. Only the Highveld delivers weather quite like that.

I also enjoyed Johannesburg’s public spaces—Delta Park in particular—and the exceptional green spaces in and around the suburbs. Near where I was staying, there’s a municipal pool kept in mint condition: sparkling blue water, attentive and friendly lifeguards, and swimmers of all ages enjoying themselves. Watching children play in the park—kicking a soccer ball, batting at cricket balls with their mothers—and seeing an older woman training youngsters in lifesaving at the pool was a reminder of the city’s energy and spirit.

One afternoon, sitting in the park in the late, golden light, I asked a young man—about 21, dressed in a gangster-rapper style—if I could sit next to him. “Yeah, sure, sir,” he said. The “sir” felt unnecessary, but we got talking. He asked me questions about life and told me about his own complicated journey: having a child, looking for work, trying to find his way. One of his talents is rapping. He pulled out his phone, played a backing track, and delivered a long rap—confident, rhythmic, impressive. A friend joined us and proudly asked whether I’d noticed how he kept the rhythm throughout. I had.

They asked me questions about health, finances, relationships—about life at my stage of living. I didn’t try to be wise; instead, I shared stories about people I’ve known and let the lessons sit quietly within those stories.

Later, when I told a woman in her early forties about this encounter, she said she feels deeply for the youth—how few opportunities there are, how difficult it is to find work, especially in the city. Johannesburg may have high employment in parts, but unemployment remains a heavy burden for many.

And so, onwards. The point of this note is simply to give a nod and a heartfelt thanks to Johannesburg—especially Randburg—for a fantastic time. In the back of my mind, I know it’s still a great place, filled with great people. Yes, it has problems. But people are working on them. And with the determination I saw everywhere, I’m confident that year by year, this city will continue to grow, improve, and thrive.

Thank heavens for the forefathers of Johannesburg.

Thank heavens for them.

It is with the greatest appreciation that we can thank them for creating the green space of Delta Park in Johannesburg.

Why would I say this? It’s because it’s the most wonderful place you can go to in Johannesburg — for serenity, for peace, for tranquility, for exercise, whatever you want. Delta Park is the place. Thank heavens for the forefathers of Johannesburg who created Delta Park.

If you go down to Delta Park today and visit any part of it, you’ll be amazed. Yes, people are worried about crime and muggings, but when I went there, I saw the most incredible social capital. There were several women walking on their own at midday, all looking happy and relaxed. There were some men too — some on cycles, one man walking a dog. But it just goes to show the social capital.

Thank heavens — I repeat — for the forefathers of Johannesburg who had the foresight to create this amazing green land, with amazing trees. And the way it is kept is unbelievable.

A Return After Time Away

Now, I’m focusing today on Delta Park because of my recent visit. I hadn’t been there for more than two years, and that’s why I’ve come back with such amazement and gratitude for Delta Park.

I must tell you: people who live in Johannesburg today — young and old — can thank the forefathers of Johannesburg not only for Delta Park, which is amazing, but for everything else too. The infrastructure. The roads. The buildings. The administration. The waterworks. The power. Every single thing.

Those people who invested in Johannesburg — who made the Carlton Centre into a great international hotel, and who built other fabulous hotels — all of that investment is unbelievable. The universities too — there are two universities in Johannesburg. I can’t even begin to think of everything that went into creating this city. It was so much money, so much effort, and so much belief in the future.

It really makes one proud to think of the history of Johannesburg and all those people who helped build it up. It’s amazing.

Let’s get back to the green belt of Johannesburg, and that is Delta Park.

Picnic, Nature, and Balance

I went there the other day for a picnic, and when you’re reunited with a place after more than two and a half years, you feel it deeply. I must say, I was absolutely grateful and had a real sense of awe and wonder being in that park.

I was glad it wasn’t fully mowed yet because there had been heavy rains. In some places, the council had come in and mowed some of the grass, but it looked so natural in its ruffled-up state — especially after a storm, with broken twigs lying around, pieces of branches scattered here and there.

We had our picnic in a place that is quite hidden away. It’s very small and not really an official picnic area, but the residents in the adjoining properties look after it very well. I always love going there, and I especially love going there after returning from a holiday at the coast — to find a tranquil space where I can really balance myself out again.

A friend of mine, Alfie Caplen, once gave me a book on Marcus Aurelius. There was a quote in it saying that you can go anywhere — to the sea, the mountains, or the countryside — but the place to really find peace and tranquility is within yourself, wherever you are.

I saw that quote slightly differently. I felt that wherever you are in nature, any type of nature, you can find tranquility, peace, and harmony. Nature is a great healer.

And for me, in Johannesburg, Delta Park is that place.

A Park for Everyone

We can thank our forefathers for building — or rather, creating — this amazing green space in the city of Johannesburg. It’s available to everyone. It attracts foreign tourists. It’s a haven for people who enjoy outdoor sports such as jogging, running, and cycling. There are plenty of cycling trails.

It’s wonderful for mothers with their children during school holidays, exploring Delta Park together. Children having so much fun. It’s a special place for those who have many years behind them and who can come and enjoy the peace and tranquility of Delta Park throughout the year.

The Seasons of Delta Park

I remember going to Delta Park in winter — beautiful walks.

I remember how I couldn’t wait for spring, to spread out a blanket near the dam and catch the spring sun.

Then there are the summer walks, with the butterflies and the birds, the swallows swirling in the air, and a giant hawk overhead.

And in autumn, walking through the fields of cosmos splashed in pinks and reds and whites.

Oh man — it’s really fantastic. It’s amazing.

Gratitude, Always

I can only thank the forefathers of Johannesburg who had the incredible insight to provide this green lung. Thanks to those in the city who maintain the park whether it be the council, the organisations affiliated to Delta Park and the interested and concerned citizens.

Thank heavens for our forefathers — for their insight, foresight, investment, hard work, and vision — to make this a truly fantastic place where one can really commune with nature.

It is truly amazing.

DELTA PARK, JOHANNESBURG — EXTENDED FACT BOX

OFFICIAL NAME

Delta Park

CITY & CONTEXT

Johannesburg, South Africa

Northern suburbs of the city

Widely regarded as one of Johannesburg’s most important urban green lungs

ORIGIN & HISTORICAL LAYERS

Original Use

Delta Park was originally developed as the site of the Delta Sewage Disposal Works, a large municipal infrastructure project designed to manage Johannesburg’s rapidly expanding northward sewage needs during the early 20th century.

Construction & Operation

• Construction commenced: October 1933

• Foundation stone laid: July 1934

• Official opening: April 1935

• Operational period: 1935 – June 1963

At the time of its opening, the Delta Sewage Disposal Works represented cutting-edge urban engineering. It introduced the activated sludge sewage treatment system, the first of its kind in South Africa, marking a major leap forward in public health and sanitation technology.

Engineering Leadership

• Dr Ernest John Hamlin — City Engineer, project lead

• Supporting engineers included B.L. Loffell, H. Wilson, E.G. White, and J.R. Gaillard

TRANSFORMATION INTO A PARK

After the closure of the sewage works in 1963:

• The site was transferred to Johannesburg Parks and Recreation

• Large-scale rehabilitation began during the 1970s

• The area was gradually reshaped into a public park rather than being redeveloped

Environmental Revival

• Norman Bloom, environmentalist and philanthropist, was instrumental in saving the site

• He prevented demolition of the main building

• In 1978, the building reopened as the Delta Environmental Centre

• The Florence Bloom Bird Sanctuary was established in 1975 by Norman Bloom and his brothers in memory of their mother

Norman Bloom is widely considered the founding father of Delta Park in its modern recreational and environmental form.

THE ART DECO CONTROL BUILDING

Date of Construction

1934

Original Purpose

Main Control Block of the Delta Sewage Disposal Works

Architectural Style

Industrial Art Deco / Machine Age Modernism

Why It’s Significant

This building is a rare example of municipal infrastructure designed as high architecture — a reflection of Johannesburg’s 1930s confidence, ambition, and belief in modernity.

Design Characteristics

• Strong horizontal lines and streamlined geometry

• Rounded corners typical of 1930s Art Deco

• Vertical window bands creating an illusion of height

• Central staircase tower reminiscent of an ocean liner funnel

• Raised plaster signage in geometric Art Deco typography

• Decorative water-themed plaster details on parapet walls

Cultural Status

• Heritage-protected structure

• Marked with a Johannesburg City Heritage Blue Plaque (installed 2013)

• One of the city’s most striking surviving Art Deco civic buildings

Current Function

• Houses the Delta Environmental Centre

• Educational exhibitions

• Former treatment tanks reused as display spaces

• A unique example of a building completing a full lifecycle:

industrial ? abandoned ? restored ? environmental sanctuary

TOTAL SIZE & SCALE

Overall Area

• Approximately 104–108 hectares

• Equivalent to 1.04–1.08 square kilometres

• Approximately 257–267 acres

Perspective on Size

• Comparable to over 100 full-size international rugby fields

• One of the largest continuous public parks within Johannesburg’s urban fabric

• Significantly larger than it feels due to varied terrain and changing vistas

LENGTH, WIDTH & SHAPE (DETAILED)

Overall Length

• Approximately 2 kilometres from south (upstream) to north (downstream)

Width

• Highly variable due to natural landscape:

• Narrowest sections: ± 500 metres

• Widest sections: close to 1 kilometre

Shape

• Long, irregular, ribbon-like form

• Closely follows the curves of the Braamfontein Spruit

• The park never feels rectangular or formal

• The changing width creates a sense of discovery and expansiveness

Why the Park Feels Bigger Than It Is

• Rolling topography limits long sightlines

• Trees, dams, and valleys break visual continuity

• Paths curve rather than run straight

• The park reveals itself gradually as you move through it

TOPOGRAPHY & LANDSCAPE

• Grasslands and open meadows

• Mature indigenous and alien tree stands

• Wetlands and multiple dams

• Gentle slopes and low ridges

• Stream valleys shaped by the Braamfontein Spruit

BOUNDARIES & GEOGRAPHY

Southern Boundary (Upstream)

• Near Rustenburg Road

• Adjacent to Victory Park and Roosevelt Park

• Close to:

• Florence Bloom Bird Sanctuary

• Keith Fleming Park

• Johannesburg Botanical Gardens and Emmarentia Dam (just upstream)

Northern Boundary (Downstream)

• Near Pitcairn Road and Penelope Avenue

• Borders Bordeaux Riverside Park

THE BRAAMFONTEIN SPRUIT

Flow Direction

• Originates in southern Johannesburg (Parktown/Braamfontein area)

• Flows northward through Delta Park

• Continues through:

• Craighall Park

• Hyde Park

• Bryanston

• Joins the Jukskei River near Paulshof

Relationship to Delta Park

• Delta Park occupies a specific, defined section

• It is not the entire Braamfontein Spruit Trail

• The longer trail extends well beyond the park boundaries

RECREATION & DAILY USE

Activities

• Walking and hiking

• Jogging and running

• Cycling (key node in the JoziTrails network)

• Dog walking

• Birdwatching

• Picnicking

• Informal recreation and reflection

User Groups

• Families and children

• Elderly residents

• Solo walkers and runners

• Cyclists

• Tourists and visitors

SEASONAL CHARACTER

• Winter: Clear air, long views, crisp walks

• Spring: Wildflowers, fresh grass, picnic season

• Summer: Butterflies, swallows, raptors, lush growth

• Autumn: Cosmos fields in pinks, reds, and whites

CURRENT STATUS & PROTECTION

Management

• Johannesburg City Parks and Zoo

• Supported by active community groups (e.g. Delta Users Committee)

Development

• No approved commercial or residential development

• Protected under Johannesburg’s Spatial Development Framework 2040

Environmental Importance

• Bird sanctuaries

• Wetlands

• Ecological corridor within an urban setting

WHY DELTA PARK MATTERS

Delta Park is:

• A reclaimed industrial site turned public sanctuary

• A fusion of engineering history, Art Deco architecture, and ecology

• One of Johannesburg’s most democratic public spaces

• A lasting testament to foresight, investment, and vision

It remains one of the city’s greatest inheritances — a place where history, nature, and everyday life coexist at scale.

Sandton City Shopping Centre began life as a pioneering development in Johannesburg’s Sandton area. Built on former farmland by developers Rapp and Maister—later associated with Liberty Properties—it opened its doors on 12 September 1973. More than five decades later, Sandton City remains a benchmark for retail in South Africa.

Recently, there were reports circulating about Sandton City’s occupancy levels, with some suggesting that the centre was not fully let. Having read these snippets on various business news websites, I decided to go and see for myself.

The reality on the ground told a very different story.

Every single shop and retail space appeared to be occupied. From my walk-through, it looked very much like 100% occupancy. This highlights a broader issue with the way many newer business news platforms operate. Often, they push short-form content via social media, presenting only part of the picture. While this can create misleading impressions, these smaller business sites do serve a purpose: they flag developments that larger, more established newspapers may only revisit months—or even a year—later, due to space and budget constraints.

Sandton City itself continues to evolve. One of the most striking changes since my last visit—over two and a half years ago—has been the influx of new luxury brands, particularly in men’s fashion. I noticed several high-end labels that were completely unfamiliar to me, a clear sign of how the retail mix is constantly being refreshed.

The women’s fashion offering has expanded just as impressively. I was particularly struck by the arrival of Seafolly, the iconic Australian swimwear brand, now trading from a dedicated store in the centre. Founded in Sydney in 1975 by Peter and Yvonne Halas, Seafolly is known worldwide for its stylish, high-quality swimwear inspired by Bondi Beach culture, with a strong focus on fit and craftsmanship. Its presence at Sandton City speaks volumes about the mall’s international appeal.

The sheer scale of Sandton City also allows major brands to trade from full flagship stores—Adidas being a good example. I also came across a Springbok shop, packed with caps, jerseys, and a full range of supporter apparel and memorabilia, which seemed to be drawing plenty of interest.

I had the chance to speak to a shop owner I’ve known since the late 1980s, and it was encouraging to hear that his business continues to perform well at Sandton City. Longevity like that says a great deal about the centre’s resilience and pulling power.

Afterwards, I stopped for a light meal and coffee at The Bread Basket. Walking up to the counter and being greeted by the aroma of Italian coffee and freshly baked pastries was a pleasure in itself. The selection looked fantastic—and tasted even better.

Sandton City still amazes. Its range of luxury European brands is arguably unmatched in South Africa, and the centre remains in excellent condition following its major revamp a few years ago. Most gratifying of all is seeing it fully occupied and thriving.

More than fifty years on, Sandton City truly deserves its reputation as the Grand Dame of South African shopping centres.