the other side of town

on the other side of town is a big tree.

it's so big that they have built a nature reserve around it. it's so old, 1000 years by carbon dating, that they have built a wooden boardwalk-thing around it. it's so prominent that they named an entire northern pretoria suburb after it.

wonderboom. the "wonder" tree. which apparently people used to live in, and which used to provide shelter to ox wagons, with 20 oxen up front.

but until saturday i had no idea it even existed.

for 24 years, the wonderboom remained hidden to me, on the other side of the magaliesberg, where an abandoned anglo-boer war fort remains on the ridge, dilapidated, like a mini military machu picchu.

the brick walls were deeply etched by graffiti, words that once said something like "koos", but now read something more like "doos".

charred, roofless, and almost eerie, this fort is nothing like the well maintained museum walls of fort klapperkop, on the eastern side of town.

apparently, there were four main forts in the pretoria area, which although they don't seem to have seen much gunfire, were a symbol of strength after the jameson raid.

well, at least two of them didn't. fort schanskop, in the south, and fort klapperkop are maintained, accessible, and well documented online. they have the honour of being declared national monuments.

the one at wonderboom lies protected by another national monument, the wonderboom, and is protected by the confines of a nature reserve, and the apies river. and although it's a fair walk up the hill to see it, still retains some kind of faded grandeur. you get the feeling it was somewhat important.

and that it would be an insane party venue.

but the location of the rogue fourth fort, fort daspoortrand, remains unclear. according to google maps it's on a farm near atteridgeville. if i's even still there.

the only pictures of the fort are accessible via a site called "boerevryheid". you need to sign in to see them. obviously.

so it still remains AWOL. but if i carry on exploring the city like i have been i'm sure it's only a matter of time before we discover its crumbling brick facade.

like the confined wonderboom fig tree, my awareness of my own hometown has been limited to a certain area, restricted by "town" limits and safety paranoia.

so driving down voortrekker road feels like driving into a different city. it reminds me a long commercial strip i drove through to get to venice beach, california. the same faded feel, pawn shops and car dealerships.

voortrekker road, like a trip into forgotten america, even has a roadhouse. casbah roadhouse, with its suitably rainbow/reggae coloured neon sign, large parking lot and waiters who did actually think we were foreign.

the surrounding suburbs are quiet, with front lawns and towering ng kerk spires on the corner, and old-school one-storey style houses, with rounded indoor stoeps.

on the nearby paul kruger street there is also maders. an afrikaner style butchery that's more of a museum, with a collection of vintage scales, typewriters, cameras and toy cars. in glass cases.

and a vast collection of old south african flags, and wall full of anglo-boer war photos.

generaals in top hats with waistbands of bullets around them, and smiles on their faces. men with guns hiding behind rocks, in helmets.

maders is a trip into the last 100 years plus, and a tribute to a less than flaunted, and less discussed, past.

and the best sausage rolls, ever. R8 a pop.

the presence of all these places, established and historically rich, had never crossed my mind.

for all the travelling i have done in the past few years, all the obscure bakeries i visited in peru, the street stalls i bought from in thailand, all those empanadas in argentina.

and i hadn't even driven 10km away from my house to eat a pie.

i'd travelled by planes, overnight buses and trains to see something new, when all i really had to do was get in my car and head northwards.

but maybe i wouldn't have felt the same way if i hadn't eaten those squishy, potato stew filled saltenas from that humble street side bakery in bolivia.

maybe i wouldn't have the same appreciation for new things if i hadn't experienced the insane rush of leaving my comfort zone, repeatedly and without an option on all those occasions.

who knows.

all i know is that i can't wait to find more hidden pretoria places.

and hopefully, that other fort.