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Antony Bullimore was the (non-identical) twin brother of David, also of our year. This is a photo of the brothers in their childhood, with their sister Patricia. Antony is on the right:
The boys' grandfather, J.H,W. Bullimore, had been headmaster of Durban Preparatory High School, and their father and three uncles had all attended DHS. The school bell of our era was donated to the school by the Bullimore family in 1950, in memory of one of the uncles, Lt. Dennis Bullimore, who was killed in the sinking of the British cruiser HMS Neptune in 1941.
Antony was well liked at DHS as a kindly, optimistic, good humoured boy of unfailing courtesy. However he had a difficult time at school. During his years there his elder brother was murdered and his father died suddenly, but the school offered no counseling of any kind: Antony and David were called from their classes, solemnly given the news, and then left alone to their grief. Antony was a boarder throughout his time at DHS, but he loathed the boarding establishment -- "run by drunks and sadists" -- and he was deeply resentful of the school's reliance on violence as the prime means of discipline. When the Class of 1961 website was launched in 2010, Antony wrote a trenchant and witty critique, "Let me share my memories of DHS with you", for Tuck Shop Chit Chat. To date his contribution has been viewed 328 times, a record for the Chit Chat feature.
Antony took refuge in two areas of school life that he considered more civilized, thanks to two truly outstanding teachers. The first was the Art Department under Alan Turton, where he learned a lifelong love of art and honed the skills as a designer that he would use throughout his life. The second was the Dramatic Society under John Nicholls, where he had roles in Shakespeare's Much Ado About Nothing in 1960 and Hamlet in 1961. From then on, Antony certainly knew how to command a stage! Here is a press photo of the Much Ado play. Antony is third from the left, as Hero -- a boy playing the female lead, in true Shakespearean tradition!
After school Antony did national service in the SA Navy, based in Simon's Town.
Antony then returned to Durban and from 1964-1971 he worked as a carpet designer for Van Dyck carpets. During this time he continued to act in dramatic productions in Durban and its environs, for example:
He also played roles in several of the radio dramas that were popular in that pre-television age:
In 1971 Antony jumped at a chance to move to Australia and design carpets there, and he worked at Pacific Carpets International in Melbourne until 1977. Wanderlust then overtook him, and Antony spent the next two years in Europe (mostly Germany and Italy) and the USA (mostly New York). In this time he "painted, designed, and partied!" In 1980 he returned permanently to Australia, this time to Sydney, a city he loved. He worked from 1980 to 1986 as a designer for the Sweet Art Events company.
During this period Antony's friend Mandy became pregnant, and Antony took on the role of godfather when her daughter Jaimee was born. They lived together and this unit became Antony's family. Here is a photo of the family, taken many years later, with the addition of Antony's god son Declan:
From 1986 to 1998 Antony was a teacher at the Kuringai Art Centre, and then from 1999 to 2012 he was Chief Stylist at Planet Cake, a famous Sydney company that created spectacular (and sometimes enormous) cakes for special occasions. Planet Cake became the subject of a highly successful TV reality series that was eventually shown in over thirty countries around the world. With his droll wit and theatrical flair, Antony stole the show in much of the series, and for a while he was regularly recognized and congratulated on the streets of Sydney. This is the cast:
Over the years Antony held more than twenty one-man shows of his paintings. He could paint different subjects in quite different styles. For example, he produced lushly-coloured still llfe paintings:
But he also produced spare, evocative paintings of the Australian outback:
Antony also had a fine sense of fashion. He was always elegantly dressed, in his own creative style:
Antony was a great supporter the activiities of the Class of 1961 He attended our 50 year Australian reunion in Sydney in 2011. Here he is at that event with Tony Crosby and Trevan Payne:
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Antony also attended our 2018 gathering in Morocco, where his gracious and convivial manner were much appreciated. Here he is, at left, at a group lunch in the lovely seaside town of Essaouira:
Antony also journeyed to Israel for our 61 Year Reunion in 2022. Here's a photo of him in the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, with Dick and Libby Pollecutt in the background:
After the Israel reunion, Antony returned to Morocco with some classmates for further adventures there. Here he is at breakfast in Marrakech, with Marga Moffatt, Douglas Wilson, Ian Robertson, and Denny Moffatt:
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And here is Antony exploring the ancient medina of Marrakech:
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Unfortunately Antony's health began to falter soon after these activities: he lost weight and became increasingly absent-minded. This decline became more rapid in early 2025, but Antony was able to attend a lunch for classmates on a Sydney beach in May of that year, which he greatly enjoyed. Here he is with Ian Poole, a visiting Ian Robertson, Dick Pollecutt, and Tony Crosby:
However, this may have been Antony's last social gathering, because within two months he had suffered such a rapid cognitive and physical decline that he was moved to a Sydney care home, where he was diagnosed with vascular dementia. Antony was well cared for and seemed happy in his new environment, but his condition continued to deteriorate. Jaimee and Mandy were at his side every day for the last few weeks of his life, until he passed away in his sleep on 21 June 2026.
Antony Bullimore is survived by his best friend Amanda Foley, his god daughter Jaimee Foley, and his god son Declan Quin. His brother David passed away in 1980.
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Anthony Crosby
Thank you Ian for your wonderful artic;e on Ant Bullimore. I remember the twins at DHS and then lost all contact after leaving School.
I later met up with his sister who had moved to Sydney with her husband and then in later years caught up with Ant at the mentioned reunions. He was such an enegetic and likable person. Alwas fun to be around and centra of attraction when holding a conversation.
Im not sure how many suitcases he traveled with to Israil but he always had on an outfit that no one had seen before or again. I could be wrong and if so happy to stand corrected but im sure he told me he traveled with 12 pairs of shoes!! I believe, like most of us I had 2. The ones I wore on the flight and one other
I last saw Ant at our small reunion I arrange at Balmoral beach Sydney. The early signs were there but he was still great company.
RIP Antony Bullimore.
Regards
Ant (Tony) Crosby.
Anthony Hill
I've been remiss in posting on our website but was jolted into action by the recent passing of Antony Bullimore. Although I didn't spend much time with them at school and knew David better, Antony reminded me during both our trip to Morocco and to Israel of how much fun he was at School and thereafter!
More than his highly entertaining sense of humour and expansive memory, the characteristic that stands out for me was his Storytelling. Always funny, always acerbically entertaining and always provoking thought, it was in his company during our Essaouira trip I was introduced to the concept of delicious red wine in a Coke can. When Ian ordered cokes for dinner that turned out to be well-made red wine, it was a surprise to me but not to Antony. From then on anything I wanted to know, he would be one of the first stops.
I guess Antony epitomised 'joie de vivre' and I thank him for that - we need more of it in this challenging world.
We should also continue to thank Ian Robertson for sustaining this unbelievably important part of our lives.
Anthony Hill
Christopher Harris
Although I had felt for a while that Anthony was going down hill rather too quickly for anyone’s liking, I was saddened to learn how quickly he passed away at the end. We had been exchanging sporadic WhatsApp messages, some of which had become difficult to follow as his mental deterioration worsened. We had also exchanged phone calls. Some were not exchanges, because our friend could no longer grasp the implications of time differences, so that there were many ‘missed calls.” However, there was one very early morning call that Janet and I managed to catch. We had a delightful conversation, some of it a bit off the wall as he was struggling to focus and to keep his recollections in some sort of lucid order. Nevertheless, his customary wry humour broke through the fog and we enjoyed some good laughs with him. Janet and I were overwhelmed by our sad realisation that that was prob+_ably going to be the last time we communicated with him.
Anthony, David - his twin brother - and I were friends from 3rd Form until their sad passing, David having died some years ago. It was wonderful to meet Anthony again during various Class-of-61 reunions - after a decades-long gap - and once again to enjoy his wry sense of humour and his sharp wit. During those class gatherings, Anthony and Janet (my wife) became good friends. We often passed our spare moments in conversation as she enjoyed his wicked reminiscences of his school days. He was a Blackmore’s resident and probably hated every minute of his captivity in that “home from home.” He regaled us with sardonic commentary about his four years of “purgatory” in that singular place, the so-called “backbone” of DHS.
His characterisations of sundry prefects and especially of the two drunken reprobates who ruled Blackmore’s were hilarious. He really hated the place and, as a result, he was not very fond of DHS as a whole. It was only his sense of humour, I believe, that helped him to survive. He was artistic, very sensitive and had the artist’s ability to describe people and events in colourful detail, always tinging his verbal pictures with sharp humour and sarcasm. He was certainly an entertaining companion.
During our chats we learned about his worldwide exploits, his adventures and his successes - all described in Ian’s excellent obit. Perhaps, after all, it was those tough early days that gave him the determination and resilience that he would have needed to achieve what he did.
I thin Anthony was liked by everyone who knew him.
Sincere condolences to his family and all his friends. He certainly one of a kind. We will all miss him.
Terence Dowdall
I think Ian's superb commentary on Ant Bullimore says it all. I knew him only in the most peripheral way at school, but he always seemed like a cool cat to me. On later occasions when I met him, he was elegant, an understated fop with a dry sense of humour and a snappy dresser. He was still a cool cat. He seemed like a guy who quietly observes a lot, but also contributes trenchantly to discussion. He soldiered on during increasing frailty and blessedly did not sink into dementia for too long before passing on. Go well, Ant - you were one of the more interesting members of the class.
Roy Henry
Ian R Terry D Chris H Ant H and Ant C have captured Antony Bullimore in such a manner i cant add any words to describe the man any better - likesble with clear vision - from school days in art class he was clearly destined to exploit his artistic talents which he did with great vigour and success Meeting him only once a few years out of school he was happily designing carpets -before leaving SA I dont think anyone i recall from our school days was so clearly creative and presented himself as someone knowing his course in life and should have been the subject of many paintings himself RIP Ant
Adrian Tronson
Antony Bullimore, an Appreciation.
I first met Ant Bullimore in the rumbunctious atmosphere of 4 LG. I was struck by his very refined, 'English' demeanour, cultivated manner and speech. I wasn't surprised at the time to hear that he was a member of a distinguished family from Kloof whose elder brother, as I read in the local newspapers at the time, was murdered by an irate husband. A situation that reminded me of an Agatha Christie novel. I never met his twin brother David, since he was in a different form. One could tell that they were brothers from their shared features, but Antony had a particular air about him. He looked 'aristocratic', having an aura of nobility that separated him from the rest of the class. Since I was something of a loner, I felt at ease with him and he often complained about his life as a boarder at DHS. We had neighouring desks in the classroom and continued our friendship over the next two years as members of the Dramatic Society. He was a good actor and apparently continued to be so after matric. I was certain we'd meet at university, but he took a different path.
On two occasions during that year in 4LG, Ant went out of his way so save me from ruining my years at DHS. One morning at Assembly McIver announced my name among a few others concerning payment of lunch fees and he ordered us to report to his office at break. I went into an immediate state of panic! I had never been a 'day-boarder'. Surely it was a mistake! What should I tell him? I paced up and down and returned to class. Ant, who happened to be going in the same direction asked me why I was so agitated and begged me to go to the Head. I did creep back knocked gingerly on the door and entered. McIver told me that he confused my name with another's, whom he had already seen. What a relief!
A few months later, we had what used to be the annual visit by the military to 'inspect' cadet parades (It was, fortunately my only experience of this strange ritual which was to prepare us for our spell in the military (the grand show was cancelled the previous year because of a teachers strike in protest against extra-mural activities.) It was also cancelled the following year, because of the demolition of the 'Old Science', aka the 'Armory'. In 1959, however, everything was arranged. I duly donned my uniform, gave my boots and belt a lick and a promise. I arrived at school and ran into Ant. He was shocked at my shoddy appearance that he marched me into the boarding establishment, handed me a tin of Nugget and a brush and showed me how to polish boots, buckles and belts so that they shone like the summer sun. He also straightened my uniform, collar and tie and sent me forth. My apparel,at least, passed muster. But as someone in our group said (as someone always did) that I was out of step again. Thanks, Wannenberg! I was not court-martialed, much to my relief, and that was my last parade at DHS.
After matric, I saw Antony again, sixty-one years later in Tel Aviv at the fourth reunion. He recognized me even in my dotage, even before I recognized him. Moreover, he began talking about our class in 1959 and told the group that he used to compete with me in class tests in Nicholls' English class. I almost always ended up with 100 or 95 percent on the identification of poems or works of literature. Ant once had a 95 per cent. However, he got his revenge in that class. We had to do an assignment during the Michaelmas holiday on our creative activities. I was tired and depressed and spent my time reading Edgar Allen Poe. My 'report' gave the title of the story and a line or two about the plot. I also visited the Tretchikoff exhibition, and Cecil B. De Mille's travesty of Exodus, both which I detested and wrote in my 'report' that it was ghastly (unfortunately, in those days I hadn't heard of the word 'kitsch' I might have received more than the 1 percent he generously allocated. Ant, who got a ninety-something, virtually danced for joy.
Happy Days those were in comparison to the present.
Ant and I had a long talk on the bus between Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. I was well on the way towards some ghastly disease and was barely conscious. But I remember his kneeling on the seat in front of me talking about the Holocaust and saying that he wasn't going inside the building.
I could spend ages writing on his brilliant paintings and their style. His attire in the photographs which reminds me of the Greek poet Constantin Cavafy, who dressed in much the same way as Ant did, somewhat anachronistically, smart jacket and sometimes with a white Panama hat. E.M. Forster described Cavafy as 'a Greek gentleman in a straw hat, standing absolutely motionless at a slight angle to the universe.' The final portrait in Ian's memoir says it all to anyone whom Ant would toast and invite to share a drink in his 'Ithaca.'
ITHAKA
Keep Ithaka always in your mind.
Arriving there is what you're destined for.
But don't hurry the journey at all.
Better if it lasts for years,
so you're old by the time you reach the island,
wealthy with all you've gained on the way,
not expecting Ithaka to make you rich.
Ithaka gave you the marvellous journey.
Without her you wouldn't have set out.
She has nothing left to give you now.
C. P. Cavafy, From Ithaka in Collected Poems, tr. by Edmund Keely and Philip Sherrard. Princeton, 1975.