Mzoli's

“That famous braai place in that ugly township”, was the description I was given before we went to this infamous place on Sunday. You literally pick your meat at the butcher’s counter and then they barbeque for you. You then head outside into the sunshine on a dusty road in a township to enjoy the afternoon amongst thousands of others. The place was packed to an equivalent of the Holylands on St. Patrick’s Day. It was one massive street party and so much fun overflowing with beer and steak. Although we got a few looks being white kids in a township, we were still welcomed. Everyone was just chilling. There were impressive speakers playing tuneless African songs and dancing just popped up everywhere, though there was some crazy dancing in the toilet queue…At first I thought that people in the neighbourhood might get a little upset at having such a party every week, but they fully embraced it. People converted their kitchens into make-shift taverns. I bought litres of beer inside a women’s kitchen for less than £2. There were no rules. You could do whatever you wanted and that was fine with the world.

My friend pointed out that no where else in the world could you experience such different things in one day: to go from a posh breakfast, to a braai on the street in a township and then to watch the sunset on one of the richest beaches in the world. I was at first appalled at such discrepancies in a country, but she made out to be one of the most exciting and electric things in the world.