In a booming costal suburb where trends are born and culture rich, there was once a beach. Back in the day, Woodstock was once the proud owner of a beach where many Capetonians would come busk in the glories of being seen and swim in the slightly warmer waters than at Clifton. The beach stretched from the front of Woodstock down to the northern side of The Castle of Good Hope. Its history however wasn’t always this glorious. Woodstock is known for its gale winds and in 1822 the beaches of Woodstock were in devastation. Ships on top of ships were scattered across the beach front; debris and destruction everywhere. It was creatively named, The Great Storm. Soon after, Fort Knokke was built on the beach front to protect Woodstock from the great winds. The people of Woodstock were very proud and insisted that it was indeed there to protect them from the winds. We now know that, that was not the case and the fort was built for the same reason any fort is built, to protect people from their enemies in the circumstance of war.
The people wanted more for Woodstock and its beaches so some more very important buildings were built. The Castle Brewery and the Woodstock Pavilion, where people could bathe, were erected and people were ecstatic. Woodstock becomes the place to be, again. Now you could go get confidently tipsy and bathe in the pavilion whilst looking out onto the beach and the seas glittering blue horizon. Lovely.
When things seem to be going well for Woodstock tragedy is always just around the corner. It was not another Great Storm that came to wreak havoc all over its beaches again. It was something for worse and for more destructive, something that has been widely regarded as terrible, terrible invention. It was politics and it was the government. In 1950 it had been decided that Woodstock was to have its beach taken away. Like little children having their favourite toy snatched from their hands, the people of Woodstock and Cape Town, were in tears, anger and heart-wreck. One young lady was apparently so depressed by the entire situation that one late night (before the beach had been completely removed) filled two suit cases with sand from the broken Woodstock beach, spread it around her living room and apologised to each grain of sand individually. Some question the legitimacy of this story because they have not seen or heard of her since. Some say she is still apologising to the grains of sand.
An entire beach stretching far and wide had its sands covered and cemented. Today you can stand on a road appropriately or inappropriately named Beach Road. It lies in place of where the beach had begun, a solid reminder that a beach had once existed there and that it is now full of buildings and parking lots. The people of Woodstock felt heart broken. However, the Castle Brewery was busier than ever.
