PETE AT THE GEORGE

THE GEORGE IS EVERYONE’S LOCAL DOWN IN UMHLANGA VILLAGE. WHETHER YOU LIKE BILTONG, BEER, SPORT OR COMPANY, NO MATTER THE TIME OF DAY, YOU’LL FEEL AT HOME, WRITES ANNE SCHAUFFER

Hi Pete, Anne here. I’d like to talk to you about The George.”

“OK, but you won’t make me cry will you?” “Cry? Er, no, I don’t usually …” “Last time I was interviewed, I did.” And he absolutely did. It was during lockdown. Pete Ely, owner of The George in uMhlanga Village, was interviewed by Grant Gavin on an Instagram live. It was during a very dark time in Pete’s lockdown life, and Grant, a motivational speaker, businessperson, and Northwood school friend of Pete’s said, ‘I want people to hear what you’re going through, how you’re feeling. Be vulnerable.’

“Vulnerable,” laughs Pete now. “I barely knew what the word meant. But I found out about halfway through. I broke down, crying, live, on Instagram.”

Pete wears his heart on his sleeve. It’s all out there, nothing hidden. He loves people, really loves them, and freely admits to “not being an alone person”. He loathed the restaurant industry because he couldn’t interact authentically with guests: “I think of it like this. You go to a restaurant, book a table for two, you and your wife … you don’t want a third, that is, the restaurant manager.”

But a pub’s different. Pete became full owner of The George on March 16, 2020, and a highly emotional celebration ensued the following day, St Patrick’s Day. Life was good. March 26, lockdown. He shrugs, “My timing wasn’t good, then again, sometimes my decision making …”

He considers his career as somewhat of a rollercoaster: “My parents are English, and I grew up with those tough English standards. When I left school, I joined Dad in the butchery … he insisted I work in smart shoes, smart pants, a button-down shirt and a tie. But I had a very good grounding. Dad taught me how to look after people, and how to talk to them over the counter.” A grin, “Now I’m in cargo shorts and a golf shirt – my dad cringes every time he walks in here.”

His real journey began when the butchery was delivering meat to the Keg and Friar, and the owner said, ‘Why don’t you come and work here at night?’ He was 19. That was the start of a whole new world for Pete, where, “No two days are the same, and you never know who’s going to walk through the door.” That lack of predictability, the freshness of faces, strangers becoming friends, real conversations over the counter, a shared passion for sport, was the ideal fit for Pete.

John, pictured with Pete, has been working at The George for over 25 years and is a legend to the regulars. Picture: Kate Hoare

ABOVE: A beer and chat with friends – there’s no better place than at The George.

When you’re as open to opportunities as he was, you’re a magnet for coincidences. He moved from Durban to Cape Town and back again, playing the roles of part-time and full-time barman and manager in various Kegs and Hops, and en route, immensely fortunate with the amazing mentors he had.

People who either gave him opportunities based on instinct or on the flipside, were very hard on him which taught him invaluable lessons.

A few names come up regularly. Pierre Van Zyl offered Pete a job at the Keg and Friar, and Pete spent seven or eight years working for him, learning the ins and outs, particularly how to manage staff. At one stage he was retrenched, and became warehouse manager for a tile business: “I also

approached Butcher Boys for a waiter’s job. I needed to earn the money, and even though they looked at me as if I was somewhat elderly for the role, they hired me. Tiles by day, and bartender by night.”

One night Jono Shepherd came into Butcher Boys: “I knew him. He looked me up and down in my apron and wanted to know what on earth I was doing. Long story short, he phoned me the next day. He and Gordon Jestin had bought the George & Dragon in uMhlanga and wanted me in.”

Pete was given a 10% share: “We started with five of us, then three of us bought out two, then two of us bought out Jono. On March 16, Kim – my wife, business partner, and support system – and I had saved enough money to buy out Gordie.”

The timing was a nightmare. He laughs, “We survived Covid with a sense of humour and broad shoulders.” But that’s the South African bravado speaking, and he puts his survival down to the astonishing generosity and outpouring of goodwill from The George regulars, school friends, the community, and the industry – notably SA Breweries and Distell: “SA Breweries initiated a Save Your Pub campaign in conjunction with Stella Artois.

Everyone was invited to buy The George vouchers to be used later – if you bought a R100 voucher, you were given a voucher ofR150. That R50 was sponsored by Stella Artois, and the full R150 went straight into our bank account.” Likewise with Distell: “The budget for the promotional campaign they would have rolled out with us this year, went directly into our bank account.

No two days are the same, and you never know who’s going to walk through the door

“We bought burgers, chicken flatties and biltong. Our kitchen was meat up to the windowsills. We worked from 8 am to midday, packaged them raw – our legendary burgers or flatties – and delivered them: 600kg of burgers in six weeks. With 1 500 Instagram followers and 4 000 on Facebook, the orders just kept coming – and we made R60 000 in the first month. Our food has never been higher than 14% of sales, now its 25%.”

Can’t sell alcohol? The George sold breakfasts outside. “Schoolfriend Treague Minnaar from Rocks Coffee gave us a coffee machine, grinder and a barrister who could make cappuccinos; and Dean Clark from Mayfair Cafe delivered 40kg of bacon and six cases of eggs to us over a sixweek period – do not pay me – and we served up breakfasts.”

A regular paid R5 000 for a “George cap”. This is what The George means to its regulars. This is what Pete means to old school friends.

If you’re a George regular, you’re a sporting fan. Well, very likely. Pete is crazy about sport, any sport, but particularly cricket. He has an extraordinary South African flag suit (a 40th birthday gift from his wife and friends), which he’s worn to Lords and other esteemed sporting venues internationally. Yes, he’s abused (particularly when SA loses) but for him, the joy is that it’s a wonderful conversation starter.

That’s what Pete’s all about. Conversations and relationships. He considers his George regulars as “family”, and clearly as they began to trickle in, regular as clockwork, they do too.