motorbike
South African biker in Dakar challenge
Guy Scott: Zambia’s impolitic white leader
His lineage bars Guy Scott from running for president – only those with Zambian-born parents may do so – but for the next 90 days he will run the nation until elections are held. Outside the country, his race is of the most significance; in Zambia, however, his ability to do the job is far more relevant.
Guy Scott: Zambia’s impolitic white leader
His lineage bars Guy Scott from running for president – only those with Zambian-born parents may do so – but for the next 90 days he will run the nation until elections are held. Outside the country, his race is of the most significance; in Zambia, however, his ability to do the job is far more relevant.
Bikers do it for Nelson Mandela
With helmets on their heads and leather riding boots protecting their feet, bikers selflessly travel across South Africa each year, stopping off to help where they are needed. This year, among their many outreach activities, Bikers for Nelson Mandela Day will hand over handmade blankets.
Pierre Terblanche puts SA design skills on the map
Pierre Terblanche puts SA design skills on the map
Pierre Terblanche's childhood passion for design and motorbikes has blossomed into a career as a world-leading motorcycle designer.
Solid South African showing at Dakar Rally
Solid South African showing at Dakar Rally
Pumping up the volume in Durban
By Yvonne Fontyn
16 August 2013
I used to be a bit of a quiet freak – if given the choice between, say, a disco and a Buddhist retreat, I would opt for the latter. So I would usually choose somewhere quiet for a holiday – a remote seaside cottage, a B+B in the country where I could relax and recharge my batteries which had been depleted by Joburg life. I have a retired mom in Durban so I head that way a couple of times a year, usually staying in nearby Umhlanga, which mostly moves along at a sedate pace. But this time I wanted to be closer to Mom, so I looked for places in North Beach, around there.
What about the Marine Parade? I took a chance and booked the Belaire Suites, which looked quite glitzy on their website. It’s a newly revamped high-rise – trendy, with a vibey coffee shop downstairs.
As I arrived, the staff seemed genuinely pleased to see me and after getting the key for my 10th-floor apartment I was soon piling into a lift with a festive crowd dressed in Hawaii shirts and sarongs. A little too festive? I wondered…
As I was letting myself into my apartment, a manager walked past jangling a big bunch of keys. He popped his head into one apartment then banged the door closed – Blammm! It resounded through the block. And then blam, blam, blam he went, down the passage. My heart sank and my anger rose – if those two things can happen at once. There was panic in there somewhere too. Had I signed up for three days in purgatory?
I could only survive, I decided, somewhere in my tired brain, if I ignored it, if I did not construe every banged door, every raised voice, as an act of inconsideration aimed at me. Egocentric, who, me?
And so I went down for lunch to the coffee shop, where a bouncy waitress came over and soon we were chatting about why I was there, the weather and so on. She wasn’t at all like most of the B&B owners I’d encountered on my travels – pretty reserved.