After my first experience at this new spot a couple weeks ago, I was very hesitant to blog about it. I wanted this little slice of heaven to forever remain a secret. But I know that it won’t be before long that the hungry masses sink their teeth into this unique venue and it becomes the most popular spot for every Matric dance in 2013.( Think back to the final days of GMT at the Bat Center)
I have decided however,to share my experience in hopes that the inevitable exposure of this sort of place will result in this developing strip in Point Road,getting some positive attention. Maybe if we sacrifice one super cool venue as collateral damage, we can create a potential platform for a new strip of jols, to satiate the locals starving for new hangouts. I alone don’t have the power to stop this place from becoming The Next Big Thing, but maybe it ain’t so bad if word gets out.
When you walk up to the big rusty gates in a rather seedy part of town, you imagine a swish shebeen to be bustling behind the entrance guarded by intimidating bouncers in chic black suits. However after convincing them that you didn’t know there was a dress code and promising you’ll swop your slops for heels next time, you are ushered behind the doors and exposed to a whole other world.
The venue is dimly lit with ornate chandeliers and stacks of candles melting in to one another. It is the definition of cool: Mysterious, decadent and luxurious. Think cigars, vinyl and ceiling high cabinets of sought after alcohol. The decor is all apparently imported from India and other exotic places abroad – Persian rugs, enveloping couches and white washed antique frames line the face brick.
I got talking to the hostess ( yes, that is how swanky this spot is) to find out where this gem sprung from. Apparently the architect is the eccentric fellow who is responsible for the spontaneous shuffle of furniture and importing of ornaments. This jazz lounge was intended to be a Gentlemen Only sort of Blind Tiger/Speakeasy, but no one was about to kick out the fabulous women, draped in fur and sipping tumblers of expensive brandy in the corner.
The maze of rooms and coves is rather titillating and you sort of imagine yourself to be in this hazy, moody atmosphere where you could get swept off your feet by a mysterious tycoon at any given moment.
This place is still in the beginning stages but all I know is that as I sat sipping my SoCo and lime, sucking on an acid pink hubbly pipe and succumbing to the familiar and soulful sound of Electric Ladyland wafting from the record player, that I had reached a personal state of Nirvana.
Don’t expect this place to have a Facebook page anytime soon – they are going for a low key, guest-list only sort of vibe. I really hope this this space remains sacred a little while longer. But whatever happens,no one can take away the evening that I went up to heaven, high-fived Jimi, came back down to earth and understood the meaning of self. It was just that good, that unique and that elite.
These pics don’t do it any justice,but here they are none the less.