OUT TO LUNCH
Back in the 1980’s I was a regular visitor to the then recently opened State Theatre in Pretoria where I saw some of the most sublimely staged operas it has ever been my privilege to attend. Opera is notoriously expensive to perform involving, as it does, a full orchestra, soloists, often a chorus not to mention expensive sets and scene changes. However, thanks to generous corporate sponsors the Opera house at the State Theatre never disappointed and the pool of available talent was world class with many of our best soloists leaving South Africa and seeking their fortunes in European opera houses.
In those days it was possible to leave Johannesburg at around 17:30 and drive north on an almost traffic free and toll free M1 to arrive at the underground parking at the State Theatre at around 18:15. There was a restaurant within the State Theatre complex so one could eat an early dinner before curtain up at around 20:00. I did this a couple of times until they served me a badly mixed dry martini in a beer glass which abruptly ended our relationship. ___STEADY_PAYWALL___
However, a night at the opera needs to be accompanied by some sort of pomp and ceremony and so I borrowed an idea from Glyndebourne and decided on a pre-opera picnic. The only problem was where to hold the picnic. The underground parking at the State Theatre was on several levels so obviously there were ramps leading down to the lower levels. We reversed the car into one of the spacious parking bays below a ramp, unrolled some astroturf in the adjoining parking bay, set up a table with a cloth and got the chairs out of the car boot along with the picnic, the pre mixed martinis and the wine.
Every so often the driver of another car looking for a parking bay (there were always plenty available) would glower at us and carry on looking. In those days we dressed to go to the opera and nobody in their right mind wants to pick a fight with a guy in a perfect fitting white tuxedo holding a martini glass. Back then you could even smoke in the underground car park without some interfering health freak objecting.
When the opera was over at around 22:30 we would go back to the car and have a restorative brandy while we waited for the parking to clear (normally around 20 minutes) before the duty driver (a.k.a. MrsB) hit an empty M1 south and got us back home just after midnight. This slightly eccentric arrangement proved very popular with our more discerning company clients with the added advantage that the whole evening could be billed as ‘client entertainment’ back in the days when the taxman still had a sense of common decency.