From insomniacs to party-goers, doting couples, tired paramedics and Johannesburg’s golden youth, The Pantry, a petrol station doubling as a gourmet deli, has become unmissable on the nightlife scene of South Africa’s biggest city.
Open 24 hours a day, the establishment which opened three years ago is a haven for revelers looking for a midnight snack to sober up after the bars and nightclubs close at 2am or 5am.
“Believe me, we see it all here,” sighs a cashier.
Photo: AFP
Before the curtains open on Johannesburg’s infamous party scene, the evening gets off to a gentle start. On a Friday at around 6pm, families with children flock to the Italian ice cream counter or near the pizza oven. Black, white and Asian, speaking isiZulu, Afrikaans, English or another of South Africa’s 12 official languages, the country’s diversity is mirrored at the dining tables.
Toddling around in twinkling rain boots and wrapped up in his dinosaur pajamas, 18-months old Akani is thrilled.
“We come here every Friday,” smiles his dad, Tony, 33. “He loves the activity and the people watching, seeing so many different people.”
Photo: AFP
Three young queer friends, one of them wearing a pink wig and high-heeled sandals, share coffees and a modest tray of fries.
“This is a good fun place for late nights, it’s always open,” comments Thembiso, a 19-year-old student in a pearl necklace, before a spontaneous photoshoot in the car park, amid the smell of fuel and exhaust fumes.
On the bonnet of a sports car, more modest in their plain shirts and chino trousers, a group of young men are playing cards next to the petrol pumps. They are Muslim, explains a security guard who recognizes the regulars, and as such avoid night spots that serve alcohol.
Photo: AFP
Inside the deli, sparkling wines, chocolates and flower bouquets for 300 rands (US$16) — a small fortune in one of the world’s most unequal countries — share the shelves with the usual petrol station goods: cigarettes, condoms and cool drinks.
As the buzzing workday gives way to a lively Friday night, the diner clientele is slowly replaced by dressed up women with super-long eyelashes, in transparent lace dresses, thigh-high boots, tight latex trousers or cropped tops, browsing the aisles before going out.
‘IT’S JOBURG’
In regular waves, tired staff from nearby hospitals pour into The Pantry.
“I’m on a 24 hour shift, so all-night coffee places are most welcome,” says 28-year-old nurse Jonathan Russell, who is here “on a break.”
Past midnight, the revelers start streaming back in, bringing with them some of the night’s energy. The music has switched from upbeat American pop to the deep feverish basslines of local Amapiano.
A tipsy young woman raises her arms to the ceiling, nodding her head in tune as she shuffles through the aisles.
“We pass here on our way home. If there is drinking, Pantry is involved,” says Lerato, a 26-year-old banker in a light blue pressed shirt.
Two girlfriends come staggering in. Yanga, wearing linen shorts, orders a pizza: “We went to two different bars. I will have a hangover tomorrow,” says the 34-year-old who works in IT. “I want something warm and consistent,” sighs Naki, a 30-year-old architect.
In the queue, a tall man is courting a bustier-clad young woman, who answers his questions with curt responses.
“You get the drunk selfies now,” smiles a cashier. “And people coming for their munchies, it’s a vibe.”
Suddenly, two fuel-guzzling SUVs pull up. Five colossal bodyguards climb out, revolvers tucked into their waistbands. One of them cradles an assault rifle in his arms as a chic woman with long braids passes through, wearing Gucci flip-flops and a floaty summer dress.
“We get all the celebrities here. They come after their gigs and events,” comments 43-year-old security guard Alfred Mathibe.
In this case, “she’s just rich,” he says. Seeing firearms in the parking lot is nothing out of the ordinary. “We see it all the time,” Mathibe shrugs. “It’s Joburg, baby!”
Shortly after 4am, the pastries section is back in stock. Daylight will soon be here, along with clean-shaven customers. Johannesburg is waking up.
May 11 to May 18 The original Taichung Railway Station was long thought to have been completely razed. Opening on May 15, 1905, the one-story wooden structure soon outgrew its purpose and was replaced in 1917 by a grandiose, Western-style station. During construction on the third-generation station in 2017, workers discovered the service pit for the original station’s locomotive depot. A year later, a small wooden building on site was determined by historians to be the first stationmaster’s office, built around 1908. With these findings, the Taichung Railway Station Cultural Park now boasts that it has
Wooden houses wedged between concrete, crumbling brick facades with roofs gaping to the sky, and tiled art deco buildings down narrow alleyways: Taichung Central District’s (中區) aging architecture reveals both the allure and reality of the old downtown. From Indigenous settlement to capital under Qing Dynasty rule through to Japanese colonization, Taichung’s Central District holds a long and layered history. The bygone beauty of its streets once earned it the nickname “Little Kyoto.” Since the late eighties, however, the shifting of economic and government centers westward signaled a gradual decline in the area’s evolving fortunes. With the regeneration of the once
In February of this year the Taipei Times reported on the visit of Lienchiang County Commissioner Wang Chung-ming (王忠銘) of the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and a delegation to a lantern festival in Fuzhou’s Mawei District in Fujian Province. “Today, Mawei and Matsu jointly marked the lantern festival,” Wang was quoted as saying, adding that both sides “being of one people,” is a cause for joy. Wang was passing around a common claim of officials of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and the PRC’s allies and supporters in Taiwan — KMT and the Taiwan People’s Party — and elsewhere: Taiwan and
Even by the standards of Ukraine’s International Legion, which comprises volunteers from over 55 countries, Han has an unusual backstory. Born in Taichung, he grew up in Costa Rica — then one of Taiwan’s diplomatic allies — where a relative worked for the embassy. After attending an American international high school in San Jose, Costa Rica’s capital, Han — who prefers to use only his given name for OPSEC (operations security) reasons — moved to the US in his teens. He attended Penn State University before returning to Taiwan to work in the semiconductor industry in Kaohsiung, where he
RSS