It is almost an inevitable late night topic of conversation among journalists. ‘What is your most memorable hotel?’ Usually people respond with a fond anecdote of the cocktails in the Long Bar at Raffles in Singapore, the impeccable service at the Imperial Hotel in Tokyo, or the creative accountant at the Commodore Hotel in Beirut […]
A Night in Mobutu’s Zaire Read More »
PAP EN WORS We were going to the drive-in. Dad was coming home from work before it was dark, and Mom gave us our bath at half-past-four. She had to struggle to keep both of us still enough to be washed properly. Steve was splashing around so much at the front of the bath near
A Visit to the Drive in with my American Mom Read More »
Her neatly manicured fingers fold the edges of the Big Mac box. Her movements gentle, unobtrusive, but quietly determined. She looks up as she finishes folding the shiny cardboard. Her brown eyes are warm and filled with a pride that holds back dark tendrils of so much fear. Perhaps, from the little I know about
Essay | The Memory of Too Many Murders: Life and Death on the Cape Flats Read More »
We all come to Ithaca in our own way. It is both a homecoming and a mystery who we shall find there. A strange whistling came out of the scrub around me. There was the answering bleat of a goat. A tumult of copper bells began their rhythmic, hollow clanking as the herd began to
How I found Odysseus Read More »
Even small shards of history that survive help us to remember who we truly are One afternoon in autumn I stood at the ruins of the Sanctuary of Artemis Orthia in the ancient city of Sparta. There was little left of the temple except a few stone walls with two eucalyptus trees standing at the
Solitude and the Ruins of Ancient Sparta Read More »
Don’t look for quick or easy solutions to the Iran war conundrum, says author and ex-CIA analyst David McCloskey. When I meet him at the Embassy Towers in Sandton, I realise immediately what a seriously nice guy he is: smart, friendly, clean cut. There’s nothing sinister about him, and like all the CIA people I’ve
Trump Iran and The Cycle of Revenge Read More »
The story of Dietrich in Joburg is complex and inspiring, one of the many ghostly, fragile strands of our half-remembered city. It is also the story of the sheer guts and determination of a very young man searching for something greater than what his limited world seemed to offer. This article first appeared in The
Glamour and Ghosts: The Time Marlene Dietrich Fell in Love with Joburg Read More »
The unveiling of a mask reveals the magic of Venice and the duality of memory that we carry with us This article first appeared in Substack I had only a few days to marvel at Venice. That incredible city of memory and antiquity, of romance, poetry, art, decadence and love, with the Grand Canal at
The Masks of Venice Read More »
I remember the house in Majwemasweu township near Brandfort so vividly. It was a clean, neat house, painted white. There was a green lawn and a small willow tree in the front. It was Winnie Mandela’s home and tiny clinic that she had established there in exile. I was a young soundman working freelance for Dutch
Essay | Winnie, Hennie and Me: An Erstwhile Soundman Remembers 3 Days in Brandfort Read More »
A trip to the virtually unknown enclave of Karakalpakstan brings dislocated memories of Stalin Read the full article on Substack Our plane was delayed in Tashkent because the man sitting behind me began squirming. The people next to him remained surprisingly calm. The man started moaning. He kicked the back of my seat. A doctor
Lost Memories on the Silk Road Read More »