|
Facts
about DurbanAccording to the current TV ad when the
grandchild asks the Grannies what they did for fun, the
Grannies answer that they cooked and baked. Well those
Grannies if they were "young" in Durban in the late
50s, early 60s, would not have been "hip" and would
have been regarded more as "squares" as the lingo of
the day put it. What exactly did the young people of the late
50'/60s do in Durban for fun? Having been a young person at
the time, I am recalling what we did in those days, long
before TV, and when personal freedom was slightly more
restricted.
First
of all in those days, there still existed a healthy respect
for one's elders, dress code was rather formal and seemingly
enforced in that you could not access some places wearing very
casual clothes. Virtually no "legal organised"
entertainment continued much after midnight. Alcohol was
strictly controlled due to the fact that anyone remotely under
age was strictly prohibited from entering a bottle store (the
only retail source) where alcohol could be bought. Bars and
hotel lounges (in vogue in those days) again were strictly for
adults and in the main frequented by middle aged / older men
and women (perhaps a World War II legacy) not so much the
younger man. Bars were not the jovial, theme decorated
establishments of today, more just the basic counter, a
serving barman and cigarette smoke. The interiors of bars were
well hidden from public view by entry screen walls or
barriers. Then there was the question of transport. I would
venture to say that up until the late 50s, drivers were 95%
men and 5 % women. You hardly saw women driving and it was
only the 60s generation that saw young adult girls take to the
road as drivers.
For
the young male (under 18), a new form of transport freedom hit
the streets in the late 50s. The …. Buzz Bike. This was a
50cc moped which could be licensed by any 16 year old whose
parents could afford to buy him one. I well remember at my
school in the late 50s, the awe that all the boys stood in, as
the 2 buzz bike owners came up the driveway on their
respective Garelli and Dik Dik. For the older schoolboy,
having a moped definitely put you one above the rest, no
matter how many pimples you had on your face. For the rest of
us, the NDC Corporation Bus service was the way to go. It
covered the whole of Durban (at the time) just about, was
reliable, on time and relatively cheap. Finally, if you did
not have any "bread" or "start" (money)
for bus fare, you just had to resort to shank's pony.
Generally, your entertainment was limited by your transport
possibilities, the amount of money you had and, of course,
what entertainment, suiting your age group, was available.
What
was "Saturday Night Out" for the general public. I
would say the most popular thing was "going to the
movies." The "bioscopes" (cinemas) in Durban
were all centred in the vicinity of the Smith Street / Aliwal
Street intersection. Starting in Smith Street opposite the
Durban Library / Museum in the City Hall Building, was the
Princes, next door the Playhouse. Across Albany Grove was the
Metro virtually on the corner of Smith and Aliwal. On the
opposite corner was the 20th Century and next door was the
Embassy. Down Aliwal Street next to what was Forsdicks Motors
was the Piccadilly. Isolated down on the corner of West St.
and Warwick Ave was the Alhambra. In the late 60s the Ice
Skating Rink in Sol Harris Crescent near the Beach Front was
reduced in size and altered to accommodate two cinemas, Ocean
City and the small compact cinema, the O'Connor.
These
were the main "movie houses" and virtually every one
would be packed to capacity on Saturday night. Tickets were
normally booked beforehand during the week, failing which you
took your chance and stood in the queue before the show
started. You can well imagine the disgruntled look of those in
the queue as some individual, knowing someone way up the queue
negotiated, with them to get extra seats. It just meant
someone further back would eventually not be able to get in.
Going to the movies was no casual affair in those days. It was
strictly dress up with men wearing suits and ties and ladies
dressed to the nines. The Metro Cinema used to have a notice
outside that a jacket had to be worn for the late show. There
used to be 3 shows on Saturday (no movies allowed on Sunday) 2
p.m. 6p.m. and 9 p.m.. Cinema goers would come into town in
their own vehicles and parking close to the cinemas was at a
premium but you could park at the Albany and Embassy Parking
Garages or on an open space where the BP Centre now stands.
If
you did not have a car and were dating you had to use the
Corporation buses. The Transport Department were very
considerate in those days because the bus termini were all in
the centre of town, mainly around the Cenotaph and Post
Office, so it was not a long walk to the show but, on top of
that, buses were available after the show so that you did have
an option of getting home cheaply without resorting to a taxi.
A drink before the show at one of the adjacent hotels was the
done thing (if you were old enough) and then one joined the
throng as everyone headed for their respective cinemas.
Inevitably, as you stood in the foyer (either upstairs or
downstairs) before the show waiting to go in, the passing
parade was inspected and you checked to see who was there and
especially to note who was dating whom.
For
lesser mortals, there were two other avenues for going to the
movies on a Saturday night. For those not so well disposed to
dressing up and who were impartial to the "locale",
there were the "bio cafes". In Durban at the time
there were two,; one being the Roxy, which was virtually
opposite the Colombo Tea and Coffee Shop up West Street, and
the other was the Oxford which was down Pine Street opposite
the Pessoa Monument (Pine Parkade). In the late 60s a third
was added, the Capri which was in Smith Street between Beach
Grove and Salmon Grove. The bio cafes were cinemas where the
show was run continuously from about 9 am onward till closing
time which was roughly 11 p.m. You could enter at any time and
leave whenever you had seen enough so, if you came in
mid-show, you would see the end of the film before you saw the
beginning ,unless you sat through the whole show again from
start to finish.
The
dress code for the bio cafes was totally casual so, if a good
show like "The Dambusters" was showing on the
weekend, the whole family would be there. One tried to time
one's entry with the start of the show and these times were
normally advertised outside. There was no booking of seats for
the bio cafes and, as you entered the dark murky cinema from
the outside brightness, you blindly looked around for suitable
seats. If the place was full, families would be split up,
sitting here and there but, as soon as interval came round and
an exodus resulted, you would see families madly regrouping.
For the cheap entrance fee of about 15 cents, you also got a
free cool drink or a cup of tea or coffee. (My mother always
warned us to drink as if we were left handed so that the cup
would be turned around!!) These cinemas were basically for the
working class family but they did provide a form of
entertainment. The interiors were totally undecorated, and
there were no screen curtains.
Occasionally
you heard the crunch as one of Durban's finest, those
notorious cockroaches, met an untimely death. The interiors
were not air-conditioned but fresh air was circulated by roof
fans. Smoking in all cinemas was allowed in those days and as
the average working class adult was a smoker, the bio café
interiors were heavily smoke filled. You would see the
projected light battling through the thick smoke haze to reach
the screen. On either side of the screen were two emergency
exit doors with lighted signs above them indicating in large
red letters "EXIT / UITGANG". Occasionally. as one
of the "shorts", (short film before the main show),
one would get a bouncing ball sing-along which the audience
joined in. Mostly post war vintage tunes such as "Daisy
Daisy, give me your answer do …", the general response
was pretty good and the audience even used to sway in their
seats. If a cartoon was shown, the laughter was spontaneous
and hearty. Looney Tunes, Bugs Bunny and Elmer Fudd
("WHAT'S UP DOC?") , Mr Maggoo, Tom and Jerry,
Tweety and Sylvester, and Porky the Pig, come to mind. During
the week these bio cafes were the retreats of those school
boys who were bunking school!
There
were a few other conventional suburban cinemas in Durban at
the time catering for the people who lived in the vicinity.
There was the Avenue which was a very old corrugated iron
building in First Avenue, near the Queen's Tavern. The Alvin
at the lower end of Berea Road, the Royal at the top end of
Smith Street, not far from the old Technical College, the
Planet in Umbilo near the old Congella Fire Station, the Alex
on the Bluff which occasionally had shows and the Rex in
Durban North (Broadway). A cinema was added to the Lido
Complex on the Beachfront in the early 70s.
Alternatively,
for the younger and dating set, as well as the mobile family,
there was the Drive In. This American phenomena which took off
in this country and and Durban had three Drive Ins in the 60s.
Durban Drive In (Brickhill Road), Bluff Drive In (Tara Road),
Umbilo Drive In (Oliver Lea Drive). There was also the
Pinetown Drive In. The Drive Ins were very popular and long
queues of cars would gather for the Saturday late show,
waiting for the earlier show to exit. Once the early show
evacuated, there used to be a stampede as cars rushed in for
the best vantage points. Each Drive In had catering facilities
and hamburger and chips, etc., were big sellers. There were a
couple of problems with the Drive In. If it started raining,
the car interior would heat up with the windows closed so the
windscreen misted up. This was problematic if you were
actually watching the show. A raw potato cut in half and
rubbed on the windscreen used to help. Secondly, the speakers
connected via a heavy duty coiled cord, two to a pole, were
badly maintained and if you hit a non worker on a night the
Drive In was full, you could not move to another position, so
you either watched a silent movie or just left. Thirdly if you
landed up close to the front you ended up with severe cricks
in the neck and boggle eyed as the screen was so big in front
of you. On more than one occasion, I noticed "free
loaders" getting out of the boot once the car had parked!
Drive In goers were not particularly understanding people. If
you came in a bit late and forgot your lights were still on
shining onto the screen, you would be blasted with a cacophony
of hooting from everyone else. And on exit, woe betide the one
that tried to sneak in front of you as you headed for the exit
lanes which were badly maintained loose stone pathways.
After
movies at the main cinemas, generally everyone exited and went
home, but a trend was started when Ivor Kissen opened a coffee
shop in Albany Grove (the Troubador?) and it was the in-thing
after the show to go and have a late night cappuccino and a
slice of cheese cake / blintz. All liquor sales and
entertainment stopped promptly at midnight and, next Saturday,
the whole process would be repeated.
Another
way of getting out and about on a Saturday (living in confined
flats was quite common then) was to take a slow stroll through
town. West Street in those days was the shopping hub of
Durban. It virtually was one big open air mall in a sense.
From Gardiner Street right up to Broad Street and even beyond
to Russell Street, with arcades and side lanes in between,
there were numerous shops all displaying their current wares.
The bigger department stores all had specialized window
dressing staff and the standard of presentation was extremely
high. Window dressing was done competitively between the
various stores and, dependent on the social calendar and the
season, generally reflected the time of the year. As a family,
my mother, sister and I and my aunt and her husband and their
family would quite often on a Saturday evening walk from one
end of West Street right up to the Bombay Bazaar and back. The
children knew where all the toy shops were; King's Sports,
Playdays, (London Arcade), Regwoods (Hooper Lane), Jix, OK
Bazaars, the Hub, so they would go on ahead and on reaching
the shop point out to each other the treasures in the
showcases.
The
pavements were covered in square cement blocks and my girl
cousins would hopscotch some of the way or play "Don't
step on the lines". Greenacres, Ansteys, Payne Brothers,
Stuttafords, Henwoods, all had multiple show windows.
Woolworths, funnily enough, was very small in those days with
an old shop near the corner of West and Gardiner. It had a
wooden ramp off the pavement to the entrance and had wooden
floors throughout. Greenacres used to have island showcases
which you could wander round. At Easter weekend, Payne
Brothers would have just a large draped Cross in one window to
mark the season. Christmas time was special for all the shops
excelled themselves and the City Electricity Department would
put up their festive street lighting. Cars could be parked
anywhere along West Street (it was two way then) and as car
theft was non existent, there never was any anxiety that it
would not be there when you got back. At the corner of West
and Broad Street was an ice cream outlet (Polar Bar?) and
normally everyone got an ice cream cone at this point, crossed
the road and walked back down the other side.
If
it was still early enough and the children were not getting
ratty, then prior to returning home, we would all get into my
uncle's small car and go down West Street heading for the
Beach front. We would turn left at the Beach Hotel and drive
along Marine Parade. Just beyond the Rachel Finlayson Baths
the road dipped towards the sea and one drove along the Lower
Marine Parade which skirted the sea front. Here you joined a
queue of cars driving at funereal speed, past Model Dairy,
Kenilworth Amusement Park, Newtons, the old paddling ponds,
the new (now demolished Aquarium) and then turn right into
West Street again and then off home. I have digressed here a
bit so let me return to what the younger people did to have
fun.
It
must be remembered that in the 50s and early 60s, the youth
were being influenced to quite an extent by the radio.
Portable radios had just come onto the market but they were
bulky by today's miniaturised standards and driven off a 22
volt batter,y which was quite heavy and expensive. The early
portables had valves as transistors were yet to change the
landscape, although they had existed since about 1948. The
Rock and Roll era had begun in the early 50s and the SABC was
not very partial to this type of music. Occasionally some rock
and roll music and new record releases were played on a SABC
programme in the evening, "Mr Walker wants to Play";
John Walker was the host. But the station to tune into was LM
Radio based in Lourenco Marques (now Maputo) in Mozambique. LM
Radio was heard on short wave only so if you wanted to listen
to it you had to have a radio capable of tuning in to
shortwave. ( I often wonder if that was the origin of the
slang "to tune someone" i.e. to inform someone with
respect to putting him right). There was no FM in those days
only AM and SW.
LM
Radio, I think was on the 41 metre band, and was quite crackly
and the signal wandered at times, so now and then you had to
retune to the station. The station used to open with a
statement in Portuguese which I never did get to know, but
included was something like "presintine de un descultos"
and the Portuguese announcer in "English" stating
"Dis is de Radio Club of Mozambique". One of the
most popular announcers on LM Radio was David Davies who was
taken with Rock and Roll music. The LM Hit Parade was
compulsory listening and he used to end his show at midnight
saying "To you and to you and especially to you Good
Night." The influence of Beat and Rock and Roll music was
spread by the visit to Durban of Tommy Steele, then Cliff
Richard and the Shadows in the early 60s.
And then came Beatlemania.
This
era resulted in a rash of four-man bands erupting in Durban. A
live band, consisting of a lead, rhythm, and bass guitarist
plus a drummer and one in the group who could double up on
vocals became the in thing. I am not sure who started the
idea, but in the late 50s, "sessions" became the in
place to go to for the younger set. "Sessions" were
basically a live band playing at a venue where the younger
crowd could "hit out" (rock and roll) ostensibly as
a fund raising event. Funnily enough the M.O.T.H. (Memorable
Order of Tin Hats) Shellholes, some of which had suitable
halls, became popular venues for these sessions and I would
imagine substantial funds were raised. Sessions caught on and,
by the grapevine, one would learn who was playing where and
when. Sessions happened on Friday or Saturday nights. They
were supervised to an extent by the owners of the hall and,
strictly speaking, no liquor was allowed on the premises. Off
the premises was another matter. Sessions were loads of
exuberant fun where the youth could let off steam and express
themselves in the music of the day, and there was many a
"raut" (loosely a fist fight) amongst those
attending.
At
that time, boys danced with girls. That was it. There were no
"rings" or single dancers or groups, as at today's
raves. You either brought your own partner, a
"chick" or you picked one up there. If "the
talent was min" (no suitable partners available and looks
were a serious factor) you "lost out" and spent the
evening as a spectator. |
Girls
would arrive in groups (moral support) hopefully looking to be
asked to dance or "scheming" to get to know someone
they had see but, if they weren't asked, that was the sad part
of it; they sat out as wall flowers. That was the harsh
reality of the time. Conflicts arose and tempers flared
sometimes over crossed lovers or when slightly inebriated
louts started spoiling things and, once ignited, the session
could erupt into a terrible all out fist fight.
Liquor
was consumed off premises by some under age individuals and
inevitably that was the start of the trouble. Sometimes
matters really got out of hand with chairs being thrown about,
damage to property etc. The Police would be called out and
they would arrive in their Dodge van with the long
"Scorpion" aerials whipping about. However the
popularity of these functions and the crowds they drew
resulted in all sorts of organisations holding them to raise
funds. I know of a couple of today's churches who raised funds
for their building programmes in such a way. Dress standards
going to these sessions were strictly of the time. White T
Shirts and denim jeans (ala James Dean) were "in" as
were white socks and your "skats" (shoes) were
either highly polished Jarman toe caps or brown suede
buccaneers. The Chukka boot was also popular. Also popular
were silver grey (linen) stovepipe trousers, with a thin black
leather belt or silver chain belt with white long sleeve
shirts, the sleeves folded three quarter up your arms. In the
back pocket was the compulsory long thin barber's comb to comb
the big wave of hair on your forehead, which was also held in
place with a good dollop of Potter and Moore's Brilliantine (SAE
120!). For the girls, beehive hairstyles were in, wide
circular skirts and blouse tops, low heeled pumps. Denim jeans
were still a predominantly male thing.
As
the bands that played at these sessions became more and more
popular, it was a natural progression that their talent and
pulling power were noticed. It was not long thereafter that
the local bands started playing at dedicated venues and this
brought in the Cookie Look era. Not sure why it was called
Cookie Look, perhaps it was a place to come to see the
"cookies"! Cookie Look, if I remember, was started
at the Claridges Hotel on the Beachfront. What the Hotel had
done was set aside an area on the ground floor near the foyer
which became the Cookie Look venue. A local rock band was
hired to play for the period 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. on a Friday and
Saturday night. Being licensed premises you were supposed to
be over 18 to gain entry. The band played all the current
popular rock tunes and a dance area was provided. As drinks
were served, the Hotel was set to make a profit. The concept
became a hit and soon packed houses were the norm.
I
can well remember the anticipation as one approached one of
these venues, the 60s rock tunes being mimicked note for note
from the originals by the local bands, volume coming out of
VOX amplifiers / speakers at the extreme. It kind of wound you
up. Being in licensed premises and one up from a session, male
dress started to follow the overseas trends. The fashion for
the young male became a Beatle look-alike "Time to
Shine" suit, made of Trevira material, a type of linen
which gave off a sheen. Pants were straight cut stovepipes,
suit jackets body fitting, narrow collar and lapel with three
button fastening. Coloured shirts had started coming in as
well, displacing the basic white, and collar bars threaded
through holes in the shirt collar were popular. Ties were
either square bottom, string or the new innovation the Twister
Tie, square bottom, narrow with oval sides. Chelsea boots ala
Beatles were non-negotiable and the best Chelseas could be
bought from the Indian shoe merchants in Grey Street. As for
that so were the suits at such shops as Dominions, Lords or
Govansons.
Possibly
the four most popular "Cookie Look" venues in Durban
were the Claridges, the Londsdale Hotel's Bull Ring, the Al
Fresco (Esplanade Hotel on the Victoria Embankment) and the
Macabre at the Butterworth Hotel (Soldiers Way). The Esplanade
Hotel no longer exists but used to be adjacent to the Royal
Natal Yacht Club (also demolished). The Al Fresco was very
popular on a Friday night, being central in town and as an
after work venue, also operating 5 to 7pm, after which it
converted to a restaurant. The bands I remember playing there
were Dickie Loader and the Blue Jeans, Dunny and the Showmen
and The Diamonds. You would often go on to a house party
(popular in those days) or even the late movie show,
afterwards, and the session gave you 2 hours to find a date if
you didn't have one.
Basically
you eyed someone, asked her to dance and if you "hit a
luck", she agreed to a "date". If you had your
own "cab" (car), things were "sweet" (on
the upside) as the transport improved your chances of a date
at such short notice, because invariably young girls in those
days lived at home or in hostels and curfews had to be obeyed.
Inevitably she had a friend with her so "home" had
to be phoned first to say where they were going and how they
were getting home. Hence, if you could not get her home in
time you lost out. I was quite familiar with this routine. If
you had "no luck" you then diverted to Plan B which
was to go first to NAWRA House in St Andrew's Street, not far
from the Al Fresco. This was the Natal Anglican's Women's'
Residence Association, a hostel for young single girls.
The
secret here was to have a contact in the hostel. You would
arrive there, (you could not get beyond the entrance) and ask
to speak to so and so, your contact. She would be paged and,
if she was in she would come down and you would explain you
are looking for a blind date or two/three depending how many
mates you had in the car outside waiting. Your contact would
leave you at the reception whilst she went and asked around
and sometimes you were lucky, sometimes not. If Nawra House,
failed you could do the same routine at Walsingham, off Berea
Road (another Women's' Hostel) and try again. With no cell
phones in those days, getting a date at the last minute was
"hard graft" (hard work) so one inevitably had one's
little black book which you used to organise your weekend
entertainment. in advance.
On
occasion the male group I went around with just got together
on a Friday or even a Saturday night and would bond, as the
modern day term is. We would leave girl friends at home and
meet at the Empire Snooker Saloon, which was on the second
floor of an old building in Field Street near the Esplanade.
You got to the Saloon via a narrow staircase which carried on
up to a third floor where there was a dance club of sorts. I
have an idea it was called the Balalaika. More of this later.
Entering the Snooker Saloon, you were hit by a wall of old
cigarette smoke, a deep haze, lighting at belt level coming
from the tables' shaded lights only. The snooker saloon smelt
of old cigarettes, nicotine and stale air. You saw
"Joe" the saloon minder, an old man, in the corner
and waved hello. He knew us as regulars. If all the tables
were full you sat on wooden benches lined up along the walls
until one became vacant. In the meantime you selected a cue
from the motley range they had in the stands around the walls
and waited. Inevitably the wait called for a smoke, so you
added to the haze. Eventually a table became available and the
group would "dubs in" to pay for the table, about 25
cents a game. There were rules displayed on the shades of the
table lights and on the walls which included, Do not smoke
over the table, Do not rest your cigarette butts on table's
edges, Do not climb on the table, Use a rest, No drinking
allowed on premises.
Being
amateurs, games (mainly snooker) were relaxed and the fluke
sinking of a red brought with it a tirade of "yeahs"
and "come off it" and "calling all
pockets". Missing the ball, miscuing, sinking the white
ball or, heaven forbid, scraping the green baize with your cue
released a torrent of expletives. On reflection, those were
happy hours, one never gave a thought to your car downstairs,
getting hijacked or held up in the street. During games a
variety of subjects would be discussed, latest dates, studies,
work situation, what to do next Saturday or weekend, car
problems, whatever. We would play games up to closing time
which was about 11 .30 pm. Getting back to the dance club
upstairs. On Saturday nights a boereorkes would take over the
club and the upstairs party goers would belt it out thumping
on the floor to the sounds of a trekklavier (concertina),
banjo, heavy electric bass and drums. Some of the music was
quite catchy especially the "seties". The snooker
players occasionally would all shout out "balke"
when the crowd upstairs were really going hammer and tongs!
Inevitably,
as one started serious dating, the tendency to wanting to be
alone became more prevalent. This was the "going
steady" period or in Afrikaans "ge-kysed". Once
you had reached this stage and word got round, both of you
were virtually out of circulation! Saturday nights then
started becoming "private sort of affairs" and it
seemed you just not could get enough time together. From being
wanting to be with the crowd, you slowly drifted away and did
much more sedate things, like going to play Putt Putt, either
at the course near the Blue Lagoon or the one which was also
on lower Marine Parade, ten pin bowling in Brickhill Road
(they also had an indoor putt putt course), spending time at
the Kenilworth or Newtons Amusement Park on the beachfront,
walking along the lower Marine Parade beachfront, going for a
Saturday night drive and ending up at the Tropicale at Albert
Park, the Cuban Hat or the Nest (lower Marine Parade) drive in
cafes.
The
Cuban Hat and Nest were located side by side directly in front
of the entrance to the Rachel Finlayson (Beach Baths). These
two locales were where you showcased your "cab"
(motor car) or your "iron" (motor bike). At the time
there were distinct sets of "groupies" car wise. You
had the Mini , the Cortina , the VW Beetle and, to a lesser
extent, the Renault Dauphin. If you had a Mini, Cortina,
Dauphin, it had to be modified, whereas the Beetle was
preferably standard but with all chrome accessories such as
chrome eyelids on the lights, chrome wheel trim rings, chrome
anti scratch plates behind the door handles, chrome strip on
the rear air intake, chrome stone guards on the rear wheel
arches. These went along with the heavy double chrome bumpers
which were fitted as standard. Some Beetles had modified
single exhausts. The scene was to show yourself off as being a
standard Beetle yet being able to keep up with a modified Mini
over a distance robot to robot! An early form of street
racing.
However,
at the Nest or Cuban Hat, your car used to come under scrutiny
of all those parked in the respective bays. Having had a
Beetle at that time, it was the done thing to enter slowly and
show off your gleaming paintwork and chrome. This you had done
on Saturday afternoon so that your "steady" would be
just as proud of the car as you were. Minis could not compete
on this as they had little chrome trim, and they used to come
roaring along announcing "I have been modified".
Likewise the Cortina, this car was the modifier's dream and I
remember one individual who had a Cortina, and who would, for
the entertainment of those there, roar out and exit with a
"screeching wheelie" burning rubber as his rear
wheels "made smoke". A slipped gear change and he
would get a derisory hoot from all watching!
Near
the kitchen area of the café, the bikers would congregate
with their "irons". These were the days before the
Hondas and Suzukis had taken over so you saw BMW R60s, AJS,
Norton and the Triumphs. Harleys were virtually unheard of,
and the only ones I remember at the time being World War 2
vintage still with Vee Motor and a gear change on the side of
the tank! There appeared to be two/ three biker groups then.
There was one that gathered at the Nest/ Cuban Hat, and the
other at the XL tearoom, which was some distance away near the
bottom end of West Street opposite the then Claridges Hotel.
These were the "other bikers" or "brekers"
(Afrikaans for Breakers) . This seemed to be the tougher
element. Another group used to gather at the Blue Grotto, a
café then at the Lido on the beach front.
At
the Nest / Cuban Hat, once you were parked, an Indian waiter
would come and take your order. Staff used to be loyal in
those days and, being regulars you, got to know most of them.
"Eh Lahnee what you all order?" Double thick
milkshake. When the waiter returned you gave your window a
half a turn wind up and he would hook the tray on your window
and place an extending arm under the tray against your door.
All hell would let loose if that extending arm did not have
its black rubber washer to protect your paintwork from getting
scratched! Most of the waiters knew better. Sometimes the
Durban Surf Lifesaving Club, which had a clubhouse above the
Beach Bath entrance, would be having a session but, if you
were not a beach bum, you basically were not welcome.
Talking
of beaches, of course, that was a daytime fun thing for young
people but, again, certain beaches were for certain people.
The "in" crowd, who wanted to be noticed, were at
North Beach opposite the Beach Baths. You virtually had to
have the body to show here and, when the Durban City Council
unbanned the bikini, this is where the guys came to ogle.
South Beach other side of West Street was for the general
public and holiday makers. Addington Beach was for the loners,
those that wanted to get away from the madding crowd, whilst
Sunkist, which was virtually opposite the Durban Country Club,
was where a fair amount of racial mixing took place between
white and Indian communities.
I
remember Durban beaches being quite strange in those days
(changed any?) because the sand seemed to have a kind of black
(metallic) powder in it and after walking in the sand your
feet were left blackish. Surfing had become popular in the
early 60s with the advent of the glass fibre boards, although
the early versions were longboards and still relatively heavy.
I remember at Addington someone had a masonite wood surfboard
which was left parked against a pumphouse on the beach. We
tried to lift it once and it took two at least to carry.
Perhaps it was an early WW2 "X" craft! We never took
it to the water fearing it would sink with all hands. Body
surfing was the done thing or else you had a small wooden
plywood bodyboard with turn up nose with which you surfed.
The
Beach Baths were popular at the time as well. What was nice at
the Baths was that you could pay your entrance fee, which I
think was about 10 cents and you went into the change room and
picked up a galvanised clothes hanger basket in which you put
your clothing. This basket you handed in to an Indian who
supervised the locker room and he in turn gave you a black
rubber band with DC and a number imprinted on it. This you put
round your ankle and your clothing was safely stored away for
the day. You had free access to the pool area and could go to
the beach and return as often as you liked. Also helpful was
that you had access to a toilet (there were not many around
the beach at the time) and at the end of the day you could
have a lovely shower, get rid of the black sand, and go home
minus the "sticky".
One
could carry on with numerous other activities that the young
people were involved in, which today seem to be waning or low
key. Sunday Hockey was very popular with about 6 to 7 men's
leagues running. Women's leagues were on Saturday. Queensmead
was the focal point but club grounds were scattered around
Durban and Amanzimtoti. Amateur Soccer was also keenly
contested, and started attracting big crowds when the NFL had
professional teams like Addington, Durban United and Durban
City. Occasionally British First Division sides used to visit
and I remember seeing Wolverhampton Wanderers play Natal 1957
(WW 5 NTL l ), Preston North End play South Africa in 1958 (SA
5 PNE 3) and Bolton Wanderers play South Africa in 1959 (BW 1
SA 0).
All
games played at the Kingsmead Cricket Ground, which doubled up
as the soccer venue in winter. A lively Sunday Soccer League
of amateur clubs was also run. Rugby, then totally amateur as
well, was keenly followed although (if I remember correctly
Natal never won the Currie Cup till many years later). I think
up until then Natal's 6-6 draw (1960) with the mighty All
Blacks, including Wilson Whineray, Don Clarke and a young
Colin Meads, was their finest hour. Cricket, tennis, baseball,
water polo all ran leagues and were well supported. On the
less physical side, fishing from the North Pier was popular,
and the whole Bay could be fished from any of the berths
dotted around. A sport which used to attract attention was
open air boxing. There was a site along Umgeni Road, near the
Indian Temple where young black hopefuls would take on each
other, long pants rolled up, shirtless, and without mouth
guards. The ring was a demarcated area on the ground. Passing
traffic would pull up and watch a few rounds and it seemed
anyone could take on anyone. Also in the same area but not as
common, young Black youths would take each other on at stick
fighting. I seem to remember the combatants would tie a white
handkerchief to a leg, arm or round the head.
I
think I have covered the majority of activities the young folk
used to indulge in to make up free time and weekends. Writing
these reminiscences has brought back many memories, thoughts
of crazy things one used to do in one's youth and characters
one met along the way.
|
