Walk in. Close your eyes. Listen to the sounds of the old observatory turned theatre. You might be lucky enough to hear the sound of the old piano creep down the passage. Perhaps you’ll even meet one of the observatory’s many ghosts, including music lovers sticking to their seats, musicians clinging to better memories, or even the old director who died before he could see his observatory completed.  

I dare you to follow me through a short history and then a step-by-step retrace of a midnight tour of the building.

There has been a lot of confusion about the actual name of the building. A lot of locals refer to it as the Boyden Observatory. The Boyden Observatory however is located outside of Bloemfontein. The observatory located at the top of Naval Hill is however called the Lamont-Hussey Observatory, after the two men behind the creation of this great building – W.J Hussey and R.P Lamont.

These two engineers from Michigan in America dreamt of constructing an observatory in the Southern Hemisphere, deciding on Bloemfontein, South Africa as an ideal spot.

The telescope was shipped to South Africa in 1926, unfortunately Hussey died of inflammation of the lungs on a detour to London. Hussey and his friends were sharing a meal when he sank into his chair and blew out his final breath. His friends continued his work out of respect, and construction of the observatory commenced in 1927.

The observatory opened on 28 April 1928. Due to economic setbacks, the observatory was closed in 1974. The Telescopic optics were sent back to Michigan, although the telescope itself is still kept in the Fire Station Museum in Bloemfontein.

The building was then turned into a unique theatre, which hosted a variety of South African music talents. The building has unfortunately fallen into disrepair within recent years, and is now hardly ever used.

I recently had the opportunity to tour the building with the Bloemfontein Ghost Tours. It was quite a peculiar experience, as I myself had once attended shows there.

Lucky for us we were able to lock ourselves inside the observatory camp, seeing how Naval Hill, except for being a nature reserve, used to be a satanic hotspot. It is however still notorious for the criminal acts that take place during the night. Feel free to click on this link if you want to read more about Naval Hill itself.

Once inside the observatory camp I made my way through the ostrich crap-covered grass. The sinister dome demanded my attention as I walked up the steps. An eerie sound accompanied the snap of the lock as the doors were opened, much like the door of a prison cell or insane asylum.

Once inside a thousand famous faces greeted us, the entire floor a mural of never-ageing grins.

I was overcome by memories which sent images flashing before me, almost as if I was looking back at snapshots of a previous life. The foyer, now dilapidated, had none of its former glory and elegance. I hardly recognized it as the same room where sophistication and style was the order of the day not so many years ago. Where was the doorman? The concierge that lead us to our seats? The fancy velvet décor? It filled me with a feeling of emptiness, yet at the same time also an excitement that only old abandoned buildings can.

What could be seen as an omen to some and a good sign to others awaited me in the small adjacent bathroom. With creepers pushing their way through the soft parts of the walls and half-closed windows, I found a dead baboon spider (Tarantula) in the washbasin. I recalled a scene from the movie Arachnophobia where a so-called dead spider jumped the photographer, so I quickly removed myself from the room.

The entrance into the main theatre was split into two narrow passages that ran along the circular walls of the dome. A breeze carrying distant sounds pushed me along the passage and into the auditorium. Many ghostly images have been reported within those seats, waiting patiently for the show to start. A gathering of spirits, perhaps. I closed my eyes and recalled the haunting music I had long ago listened to from those very seats. I dare many a brave man or woman to wander alone into the observatory, take a centre seat, ease back, and close their eyes. I promise you, you will not be alone for very long.


(Might be  a bit difficult to see, but watch out for the blue orb below the vent in the back)



(Don't miss the face in the middle)


(The figure seated in the middle of the photo is actually two orbs, a smaller one on top of a larger one.)

It is within the back rooms, where stars of yesteryear gathered in their VIP lounges and drank with their friends, that a lucky few have heard the sharp stabs of a piano, or the harp-like strumming of a guitar.



The very last room is perhaps the most important. It’s the VIP room that still clings onto the signatures and messages of those who once performed there so many years ago. It was in that very room that I felt the presence, and it was indeed a cheerful presence. Its emotions ran through me and made me smile. It was then that I understood why the ghosts of musicians would be drawn to such a place. Perhaps there is truth in the rumour that Johannes Kerkorrel, a once famous South African artist who committed suicide, haunts the observatory.


Whether stars in the night sky or stars of music and stage, the observatory had been a gathering place for many souls, and will be for a very long time.

Click here if you wish to read more about Naval Hill, which has quite a few haunted spots.

All the best.