It started, as these things often do, with a harmless errand. A quick stop at Kolonnade Shopping Centre, just long enough to grab some toothpaste, maybe a loaf of bread, and avoid the temptation of anything remotely expensive. But as anyone who’s spent time at Kolonnade knows, the place has a way of pulling you in. One moment you’re staring at a shelf of dental floss, the next you’re wandering toward the sound of low, inviting chimes. That’s how I found myself face-to-face with Goldrush.
Now, I’ve been to a fair share of casinos. Some are loud and chaotic, others, soulless. But Goldrush Kolonnade? This one had something different. It was a pocket of calm, a well-lit oasis in the middle of retail rush, where the energy is just right and purposeful.
You wouldn’t know it from the outside. Goldrush sits quietly along one of the centre’s main walkways. It doesn’t need a spotlight, it’s not that kind of establishment. But walk inside, and the mood changes instantly. The lighting softens, the air cools and the atmosphere tightens in that pleasant, anticipatory way, like stepping into a private lounge or an exclusive bar.
A Different Kind of Crowd
It took me a few minutes to realise what felt so different. It wasn’t just the décor or the machines, it was the people. There was no pushing, no chaos. Just a quiet rotation of shoppers-turned-players, some clearly seasoned, others just curious. Couples shared screens, old friends chatted over jackpots, and a woman in her sixties with a bright scarf and a determined expression was absolutely dominating her EBT in the corner.
It’s not the kind of crowd chasing a big win with reckless abandon. There’s no shouting, no performative excitement. Just that collective, unspoken hope that maybe, just maybe, this spin is the one. And if not, well, there’s always the next.
I spoke briefly to one of the staff, who was friendly without being forced, the way you hope people will be in a service role but rarely are. She didn’t offer me a brochure or try to sell me on loyalty points. Instead, she smiled and said, “Take your time and let me know if you need help with the EBTs.” That was it. Simple. No pitch, no pressure.
Kolonnade itself is a bit of a Pretoria staple. It’s where people come for groceries, fashion, flat whites and errant Saturdays. Families shop here, teenagers hang out here, and tired parents look for just five minutes of silence here. It makes sense that Goldrush would make its home inside a place like this.
There’s something deeply satisfying about wandering from Clicks to Goldrush. You move from the structured monotony of shopping lists into the soft unpredictability of a game. That pivot, from errands to entertainment, feels entirely natural.
A Design Built for Discretion and Delight
You’ll notice there’s no loud music, no cigarette smoke and no tacky carpets. Just a streamlined design aesthetic that leans into calm tones. The machines themselves are set at a comfortable distance and there’s enough privacy to lose yourself in a game without feeling isolated.
Everything about the space says, stay a while. And not in the way that traps you into spending money, but in the way that good design always invites you to linger. A quiet sense of respect for your time.
And it’s not just for the casual drop-in. Goldrush Kolonnade also caters to VIP players, the ones who prefer discretion, comfort, and a more tailored gaming experience. Whether you’re just passing through or arriving with intent, the venue adjusts to your pace.
More Than the Spin
I sat down at one of the EBTs, not really expecting anything. It was more for the feel of it, to see how the machine responded. I tapped through the games, chose something with gold coins (naturally), and watched the digital reels roll. The thing about these terminals is how smooth they are. The interface is responsive. The sound is immersive without being annoying.
I didn’t win much, but that wasn’t the point. What I walked away with was a sense of clarity and a little mental reset. That’s what happens when entertainment is done right, it gives you back something intangible.
What Goldrush does well, particularly here at Kolonnade, is understanding that people aren’t just chasing jackpots. They’re chasing moments, a little pulse of excitement in an otherwise predictable day. And you don’t need flashing lights or circus gimmicks to provide that. You just need quality, consistency, and a space that knows what it is. Goldrush Kolonnade walks that line beautifully.
And let’s not forget, this isn’t just a physical venue. Goldrush offers a full suite of online gaming options as well, for those who prefer the thrill from the comfort of their lounge chair. But there’s something irreplaceable about the in-person experience, seeing the lights flicker just slightly before the win, hearing the hum of the machines around you, sharing a knowing glance with the stranger next to you.
A Different Kind of Gold
Goldrush gave me something better, a reminder that joy often hides in the in-between places. A small win here, a good coffee there, and suddenly your day’s not just survived, but slightly elevated.