Cullinan: Not Just the Main Road

Apr 25
2 min read

For those of you who somehow don’t know every exhausting detail of my personality yet (a rare and endangered group), I have a thing for small towns.

Not a cute, casual interest.

A full-blown, slightly concerning obsession.

The kind where I imagine drifting from town to town across South Africa like a poetic nomad - taking photos, writing stories, chatting to locals, pretending to be charming… and then leaving before they realise I’m actually just awkward and mildly feral.

And yet, here I remain. In Johannesburg - romanticizing quiet roads and corner cafés while inhaling traffic fumes.

If anyone has a practical (or even impractical) plan of how I can fund this wandering small-town fantasy, please share.

I’m open to ideas - I’ll even carry you in my bag.

Within reason.

And weight limits.

Cullinan

Anyway - reality.

A group of us went hiking last weekend at Windybrow Nature Reserve.

I won’t talk about the hike because I’ve already posted on that - extensively, might I add, and we all have limits, even me

What I will talk about is Cullinan.

I’ve been before, and like any basic small-town enthusiast, I remembered the main road: charming, busy, full of little shops and places to eat.

Basically Pinterest in real life.

So when a hiking pal suggested we stop at “Oppie Stasie,” I assumed we’d land right back in that curated charm.

Naturally.

We did not.

Crossing the Tracks

Instead, we parked on a quieter road.

While tumbling out of the car and already taking photos like a person who has no concept of moderation, I asked why we weren’t on the main road.

I was met with looks.

The kind that say, “We regret inviting you.”

Apparently, things exist OFF the main road.

Groundbreaking.

There was vague muttering about railway lines, which I ignored entirely because I was busy photographing literally everything.

But eventually… because turning around would have meant missing a photo (obviously unacceptable), I walked backwards straight over them.

The “Poor Cousin” Side of Charm

And on the other side? Charm.

Real, unpolished, slightly underdog charm.

Not shiny.

Not curated.

Definitely not trying too hard.

If the main road is the well-dressed older sibling, this side is the “poor cousin” who got sent away but somehow developed a personality.

And honestly? I loved it.

No queues. No chaos. Just a relaxed, small-town feel that didn’t feel like it was performing for tourists.

Oppie Stasie

Oppie Stasie handled a table of post-hike, hangry and borderline feral humans (us) with impressive grace-which already earns them points.

The food? Genuinely good - served on old spades, because why not lean into the whole rustic aesthetic while you’re at it.

It’s not the place you go for coffee (trust me… that’s not where they shine), but it is where you sit, breathe, eat properly, and briefly forget the outside world.