For anyone who can remember the ’80s, it’s hard to visit Sun City without some historical prejudice. After all, this was a resort built in a Bantustan – one of the “independent” ethnic reserves that Black South Africans were encouraged to move into during the 1970s – specifically so that it could offer activities such as gambling and topless shows that were banned in South Africa during apartheid.
More controversy followed in 1985 when a group of high-profile artists released the anti-apartheid record Sun City, whose chorus – “I, I, I, I, I, I ain’t gonna play Sun City” – attacked the decision by other prominent musicians (including Queen, Cher and Elton John) to perform at the resort despite a United Nations-sanctioned cultural boycott.
For many people, these facts alone would prevent them from ever setting foot in the place. And I respect that decision. But I confess I’m intrigued. First, to see how Sun City positions itself today given it’s no longer the only place in South Africa where you can gamble and see big-name performers.
And, secondly, because it sounds kinda nuts – a sprawling 32-square-kilometre mega-resort in a jungle-filled valley 170 kilometres north-west of Johannesburg that contains four hotels, two Gary Player-designed golf courses, an artificial lake and a giant waterpark. Plus, it’s adjacent to Pilanesberg National Park, home to the Big Five and more than 300 bird species.
I have two nights at the swankiest of the resort’s four properties, the allegedly five-star Palace of the Lost City, which erupts from the surrounding jungle in a Jumanji-like riot of fake stone columns, soaring archways and elaborate dome-topped towers. Inside it’s equally bonkers – a colourful, jungle-themed blizzard of murals, mosaics and carvings depicting some disturbingly violent scenes – from a giant sculpture of two cheetah hunting six impala to carpet emblazoned with lions and wolves merrily munching away on various prey.
Two features that have genuine wow-factor are Crystal Court, a cavernous, dome-roofed restaurant with a central fountain of four trumpeting elephants, and the 1000-square-metre resort pool, which is surrounded by a sea of daybeds and manicured gardens.
The whole setup feels like a crazy mishmash of Vegas and Disney, but without the calculated polish of either. Too often the service doesn’t match the five-star price tag, with maddeningly long wait times for meals and requests that are either completely ignored or only begrudgingly acknowledged after several reminders.