I’m struggling with this post. I keep writing stuff and then deleting it because I don’t know what to say about Hillbrow that I haven’t said before. I’ve been blogging about Hillbrow since 2011 (that first post was embarrassing though), and I’ve used up all the Hillbrow clichés. I’ve even created some clichés of my own, like “Hillbrow is hard to know.” I wrote that in 2017 and then almost used it as the title of this post, until I realized it’s super pretentious.
So I’m going to (mostly) shut my mouth and just show you the pictures I took of the Hey Hillbrow! Let’s Dlala! street parade.
This wasn’t a conventional parade, where spectators line up along the street and stand in one place as floats and performers pass by. In this case the spectators were the parade; the performers were mixed in with the spectators and also popped up at various stops along the way. Those of you who attended the Brixton Light Festival, which was masterminded by the same brilliant people who planned Hey Hillbrow!, know what I’m talking about.
Hey Hillbrow! was a magical event. I cried, even sobbed, throughout most of it. It was just so beautiful and joyous and heartbreaking all at once. This parade reminded me why I keep actively choosing – day after day, month after month, year after year, despite all the challenges – to make Joburg my home.
Thank you, thank you, thank you to Gerard Bester and the Windybrow Theatre, Tamzyn Botha and Shade, Daniel Buckland, and all of the other amazing people who made me and many other people sob with joy and wonder during this event. Thanks especially to all the kids, and people, of Hillbrow.
For more great photos from Hey Hillbrow! Let’s Dlala!, check out this lovely article by photographer Ihsaan Haffejee.
How have I never blogged about 44 Stanley Avenue, the coolest shopping and dining complex in Joburg, which is only five minutes from my house?
I guess it’s wrong to say I’ve never blogged about 44 Stanley; I’ve mentioned it countless times over the years (see here and here) when writing about specific restaurants or shops that are there. But I’ve never written a dedicated post about 44 Stanley as a destination and it’s about time I did – especially now, with the holidays upon us.
I’ve been dreadfully uninspired lately, struggling to think of anything I want to blog about despite having a long list of great ideas (many of which you, my readers, provided in September). I’m finding it hard to feel positive about life at the moment. But on Saturday Thorsten and I got the chance to visit Indwe Park, an indigenous garden and sculpture park in Braamfontein, and I knew I had my topic for today.
Given this week’s political nuclear bomb blast, it feels like a weird time to publish a light-hearted post about my recent (pre-election) jaunt through the United States. But I’m hoping you’ve have had enough of the U.S. election horror show – I know I have – and are ready (at least temporarily) for some wholesome American travel adventures. If so, please read on about my four-day visit to Maine, the northeastern-most state in the lower 48, with my sister, Susanna.
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It makes me smile, when I see it.