Whoever came up with the idea of shifting the Super 14 semifinal to Soweto should be lauded for a far-sighted decision that has surely won the Bulls a slew of new followers, and also allowed Bulls fans, perceived by many to be the most conservative in the land, to be whisked out of their comfort zone and into a brave new world.

Saturday saw probably the biggest influx of white South Africans in the history of Soweto (including those other blue-clad lads who wore uniforms, toted rifles and rode Casspirs in the late 80s!) The fear of the unknown can be debilitating, and in my mind accounts for many of our challenges as a nation, so it was spine-tingling to see how people from such a divided past came together with such obvious goodwill – on both sides – to make an amazing success of this brave experiment.

We had tickets for the park and ride, but on approaching Gold Reef City it became clear that a traffic bottleneck of nightmarish proportions was building, We decided to head straight into the township. Following our noses and vague long-term recall from my township days as a news journalist in the explosive early 90s, we found our way easily enough to iconic Vilikazi street – surely the only road in the world that boasts the homes of two Nobel Peace Laureates.

Nelson Mandela’s old pad at number 8115 has been spruced up and is a tourist shrine, as is Archbishop Tutu’s house further down the road. The nearby Hector Pietersen memorial, commemorating the first student killed during the infamous Soweto riots on June 16 1976, completes a dramatic apartheid-era threesome.

Unlike a good number of Bulls fans, we were not only in time for the kick-off, but also to sink a couple of cold ones at Sakhumzi’s before the game started. By early afternoon the braais were sizzling, the amber liquid flowing freely and the live music blaring into deep blue skies. Within a ten kilometre radius we had the Nedbank Cup final at Soccer City, a Miriam Makeba tribute concert and the Super 14 semi. Some 120 000 odd people all converging on a tiny triangle, and road chaos was inevitable. Hopefully lessons will be learned ahead of the Soccer City games for the World Cup and traffic then will be a lot smoother.

My impression of Orlando Stadium is that it is a better rugby-watching venue than Loftus. (Heresy for most Bulls fan I know, but an opinion that was shared by the blue-clad family sitting next to me). The stands tower from tight to the touchline, creating a highly-charged bowl of a venue, and allowing for a fantastic atmosphere. The queues for drinks and food were manageable, the toilets clean.

It was magic to watch as velskoen-hatted die-hards blew hard (and sometimes inexpertly) on vuvuzelas as Dan Carter lined up his kicks at goal. I swear he missed two pottable shots because of these infernal instruments. Imagine what 90 000 of them can do at the World Cup opener against the Mexicans. This plastic trumpet with the tuneless drone is set to be Bafana’s 12th man. No wonder opposition coaches want them banned.

All in all, this uniquely South African experiment was a massive success. I’m already looking forward to the final this weekend. The people of Soweto opened their hearts and the least Sarfu can do is to ensure one Super 14 game next season gets played at “Fortress Orlando”.

A surprising number of families with young children made the trip, and I saw lots of them afterwards at Sakhumzi’s for the Waratahs-Stormers game. We watched the second semi in the company of a large, knowledgeable local crowd of revellers. There was much banter, singing and enthusiastic chants of Shosholoza.

We eventually stumbled outside around 11pm midway through the Champions League soccer final. People fell over themselves (sometimes literally) to ensure we knew the best way back to the highway. There was an air of novelty, easy camaraderie and an utter lack of tension. Anyone who had vague fears for their safety before Saturday will know now that they are far more likely to receive a welcome of matchless warmth.

I urge anyone who has never been to a township to either get to the rugby this weekend, or else make arrangements to watch at least one World Cup game at a tavern such as Sakhumzi’s or Wandies or any other of the myriad options in Soweto. Make a full day of it and start at the sobering apartheid museum at nearby Gold Reef City before going on to the township’s landmarks.

Unlike in the so-called developed world, we South Africans create our history on a daily basis. Making it up as we go along. Last Saturday in Orlando was another assertive stride in our long walk to freedom.

The World Cup will be another massive milestone.

What times we live in.