I did a Soweto tour by myself when we visited Joburg two years ago, but my guide was nothing like our boy Dennis. An older fella, young black guys that live in Soweto tell him they can do the job better. His reply- he’s been doing tours for twenty years and goes places no other guides go.
For example, he took us to the Oppenheimer Gardens, where a tower gives 360 views of the whole township. Most guides don’t know about it, Dennis assures me, apart from “the old boys”. When we arrive the tower is locked, and some guy gives us the run around about lost keys, suggesting we visit his village at the bottom of the hill while we wait. Dennis was not pleased, leading to an important point; white South Africans don’t put up with a lot of crap. They’ve seen the dance, heard the spiel, know the hustle. As we get back into the van to leave, the keys magically appear.
Dennis, to put it mildly, has had an interesting life. As a professional driver, he has had the pleasure of chauffeuring Mandela (very nice), the prince of Qatar (left him a R50,000 tip) and took Oprah and gal pal Gail on a game drive in Pilanesburg (she broke his window, didn’t pay for it, didn’t tip). He has worked on film sets, talking rugby with Richard Harris and having a head-on jeep collision with Olivia Newton John in the desert. On one movie, Peter O’Toole was apparently so inept on a horse that Dennis constructed a ramp to mount it, and Pete had to be tied into the saddle so he wouldn’t fall off.
As we idle outside Winnie Mandela’s home, Dennis says he’s been inside, leading to the best story by far. Benazir Bhuto (formerly exiled Pakistani dissident politician, recently assassinated) was visiting Winnie. Mrs. Bhuto whispers something in her assistant’s ear, who then requests that Dennis make a trip to Pretoria, more than an hour away. He was to deliver a sealed envelope to the UN, and would receive a parcel in return.
Upon arriving in Pretoria, he delivers the letter, and fifteen minutes later, a stern looking man gives him the package. Back again to Soweto, he delivers the package to Mrs. Bhuto. She opens it in front of everyone, revealing…a package of tampons.
For example, he took us to the Oppenheimer Gardens, where a tower gives 360 views of the whole township. Most guides don’t know about it, Dennis assures me, apart from “the old boys”. When we arrive the tower is locked, and some guy gives us the run around about lost keys, suggesting we visit his village at the bottom of the hill while we wait. Dennis was not pleased, leading to an important point; white South Africans don’t put up with a lot of crap. They’ve seen the dance, heard the spiel, know the hustle. As we get back into the van to leave, the keys magically appear.
Dennis, to put it mildly, has had an interesting life. As a professional driver, he has had the pleasure of chauffeuring Mandela (very nice), the prince of Qatar (left him a R50,000 tip) and took Oprah and gal pal Gail on a game drive in Pilanesburg (she broke his window, didn’t pay for it, didn’t tip). He has worked on film sets, talking rugby with Richard Harris and having a head-on jeep collision with Olivia Newton John in the desert. On one movie, Peter O’Toole was apparently so inept on a horse that Dennis constructed a ramp to mount it, and Pete had to be tied into the saddle so he wouldn’t fall off.
As we idle outside Winnie Mandela’s home, Dennis says he’s been inside, leading to the best story by far. Benazir Bhuto (formerly exiled Pakistani dissident politician, recently assassinated) was visiting Winnie. Mrs. Bhuto whispers something in her assistant’s ear, who then requests that Dennis make a trip to Pretoria, more than an hour away. He was to deliver a sealed envelope to the UN, and would receive a parcel in return.
Upon arriving in Pretoria, he delivers the letter, and fifteen minutes later, a stern looking man gives him the package. Back again to Soweto, he delivers the package to Mrs. Bhuto. She opens it in front of everyone, revealing…a package of tampons.
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