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The horror of Sun City
12/06/2008 13:11 - (SA)
Georgina Guedes
I am not a fan of casinos. I hate the dull half-light, the relentless pinging and trilling of the slot machines, the grubby carpets, the free alcohol to lower your inhibitions and keep you at the tables, and the poor, sorry individuals throwing in what you can see is the last of their earnings for the month in the vain hope of taking something home.
The R10 parking charge on entry at Montecasino bears testimony to the fact that people have left the place penniless more than once. The conversation I heard through the paper-thin walls of my expensive hotel room in Vegas between a prostitute and a punter, where he was begging her to wait for him for another hour while he just went downstairs to win some more money, is a perfect indication of the kind of sleazy desperation that casinos cash in on.
This past weekend, Chris Rock was performing at Sun City. My husband and I weren't organised enough to get tickets at Carnival City (another casino) in time, so we had to head all the way out there. The drive being long and the show being late, we decided to try to find some place to stay for the weekend, and make a holiday of it.
Taking care of the pennies
Since we're trying to watch the pennies in these financially tight times, we decided that staying in a Sun City hotel for the night would be silly especially considering how much it costs to stay somewhere that isn't interesting or pleasant for us (one night in Sun City would buy us fifty nights in India - what a waste).
About ten years ago, I stayed in the Pilanesberg in a sweet little log cabin. With communal ablution and cooking facilities and no electricity, it was a great way to spend a weekend away from the city without having to camp. Unfortunately, these log cabins have been cleared to make space for family units with Dstv and microwaves, so we couldn't stay there again.
We searched and called around. One B&B looked quite promising but was fully booked. Eventually, we stumbled upon a backpackers just outside of the Pilanesberg. I called to make a booking, and was asked "have you stayed in a backpackers before?"
I explained that I had, and was completely comfortable with the idea of shared kitchens, bathrooms, no room service, hairy hippies, and so on, so they took my money and sent me the directions.
Without going into too much detail, staying in backpackers before was not enough to prepare me for the bleakness of our destination. The pool was rotten, the rooms had only beds in them, no attempt was made to create warmth or coziness, there wasn't even a poster on the walls, there was no tie-dye, no hammocks and no hairy hippies.
Not being the types to let life get us down, my husband, a friend and I made a braai in the parking area, pumped out some tunes on the laptop which we had intelligently brought with us, and cooked a great dinner out of our car boot. We drank beers and lived it up like trailer trash.
To refurbish or demolish
The next morning we made our way to Sun City faster than you can say "den of iniquity". And this is where our story really gets sad. The Valley of the Waves was closed for winter refurbishments, parts of the casino are also being upgraded and the whole place was like a post-apocalyptic ghost-casino. Oddly enough, as the day wore on, a surprising number of people we actually know made an appearance, and they were there, not to see Chris Rock, but to spend time at Sun City. Why?
The place is awful - there are fake sunsets painted on the walls, the décor hasn't been upgraded since the seventies (even the refurbishment seems only to be buffing up the light fittings and replacing the carpets), and all the things I hate about casinos were on display.
We survived the day by dividing it up into half-hour units, a la Hugh Grant's character in About a Boy, and making sure that we had things to do in each of them. The rugby helped. We also managed to win enough money at roulette (I am psychic and my husband is a strategic genius) to pay for two very good meals.
What made up for all of this was that Chris Rock was incredible. He was funny and acerbic, but remained likeable the whole time. He had great insights to offer on meeting Nelson Mandela, and how he struggled to find common ground with the man, who he was sure has no idea who Chris Rock, Jay-Z or Amy Winehouse, or any other of the countless celebrities he gets to talk to, are.
In response to Chris Rock's question, "so what do you got on your iPod?", Madiba apparently responded "what is an iPod?", before Rock was whisked out of the room.
Having a sense of humour and giving our senses of humour a workout were what got us through the day, but I'm left wondering why one of South Africa's tourist areas - containing Sun City and the Pilanesberg - is so unfriendly to budget travelers.
Georgina Guedes is a freelance journalist. She'd much rather be in India.
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