It was a different era, and in many respects it was a different city. On February 2, 1990, I was in Pretoria preparing to interview Pik Botha, the foreign minister of South Africa. For research, I visited the city library, blindly passing a sign at the entrance: Admission Restricted.

The implication of the sign did not sink in. I sat in the reading room, oblivious to the fact that there was not a single black person in the room.

That afternoon, President F.W. de Klerk made a watershed speech in which he announced the impending release of Nelson Mandela from prison and scrapped, with immediate effect, many of the pettier measures of apartheid. The following day, when I returned to the library, the sign had been removed. The entrance hall was crowded with black people queuing for membership. Many were crying.

Pretoria had long been the bastion of Afrikanerdom and the principal seat of power for the white minority rule. When apartheid’s severe grip began to relax even here, everyone was finally able to believe that a new South Africa was dawning.

On top of a hill to the south of the city stands the monolithic Voortrekker Monument, commemorating the 1838 battle of Blood River during in which a group of migrating Afrikaners defeated the Zulu army. When I visited in the 1980s, it was a site of almost religious significance for Afrikaners, who believed that the monument — and their nation — would endure for thousands of years. Today, this huge granite and marble edifice no longer seems quite so imposing. It is an anachronism, physically and spiritually set apart from the city.

The new Pretoria is cosmopolitan and dynamic. The main streets of the Central Business District were designed to be wide enough for a team of oxen to make a U-turn. Now they throng with minibus taxis and street vendors. A city that once stood at odds with Africa has been embraced by it.

Thankfully, downtown Pretoria has largely avoided the problems of other South African cities, where in the early 1990s white businesses fled to the suburbs in droves, property prices collapsed and crime was rampant. The evolution of Pretoria’s CBD has been more measured and, against the odds, this former Boer stronghold has become a relatively successful model of integration.

Church Square, the traditional heart of the city, typifies the modern face of Pretoria. At lunchtime, office workers of all races lounge on the grass in the shade of grandiose public buildings. At the center of the square stands a statue of Paul Kruger, the founding president of South Africa. Nobody pays him much attention these days, and he serves primarily as a roost for the numerous pigeons.

Extending from Church Square, and forming the city’s east-west axis, is Church Street. With a total length of 16 miles, it is one of the world’s longest urban thoroughfares. From here, on my most recent visit to Pretoria, I walked east, in and out of the shadows of a cluster of 1970s concrete and glass skyscrapers, until I reached the lush terraced gardens that lead up to the Union Buildings, which house the executive offices of the South African government.

It was to this impressive colonnaded complex that I came, all those years ago, to meet the charismatic foreign minister. And it was here, in 1994, that Nelson Mandela was sworn in as South Africa’s president. Although Pretoria is South Africa’s de facto capital, and the location of government ministries and diplomatic missions, in practice its role is shared with two other cities. Cape Town is the legislative capital, while Bloemfontein is the judicial capital.

But these rivalries are insignificant compared to Pretoria’s relationship with its nearest neighbor, Johannesburg, just 30 miles away. For more than a hundred years, staid, refined Pretoria has viewed brash Johannesburg with a combination of disdain and envy. Gradually, the countryside between them has been swallowed up by urban sprawl, and they are now practically joined.

The highways between the two cities are so clogged with traffic that a radical solution is being initiated. The $3-billion Gautrain project (http://www.gautrain.co.za) will provide a high-speed rail link between Pretoria, Johannesburg and O.R. Tambo International Airport (JNB). It is due to begin operating in 2010.

The link will bolster the already significant number of commuters who work in Johannesburg but choose to live in Pretoria. Each year, in October and November especially, you can see what attracts them here. At that time of year, the capital’s 70,000 jacaranda trees come into bloom, draping the city in beautiful swathes of purple blossom.

But throughout the year, Pretoria is an attractive place to spend time. One of my favorite places is the National Zoological Gardens (http://www.zoo.ac.za), undoubtedly the finest zoo in Africa. Situated on a ridge immediately north of downtown, it provides a stunning panorama of the city, day and night (organized night tours of the zoo are available every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday).

Seventeen years ago, notebook in hand, I sat with Pik Botha in his office in the Union Buildings. It was the day after the president’s dramatic speech, which had made news headlines throughout the world. Many commentators questioned if it really was the beginning of the end for apartheid. The foreign minister smiled. “All I can say, my friend, is come back. You will see.”

Here, in 2007, is the evidence. Thirteen years after Nelson Mandela’s inauguration, Pretoria is no longer an international pariah. The main political controversy these days concerns the city’s name. Originally named after an Afrikaner hero, Andries Pretorius, for the Zulu population the city has always been ePitoli.

However, the Greater Pretoria municipality has adopted the Sotho name, Tshwane, and unofficially many people already apply that name to the city. Whether it will be formally adopted or not remains a matter of bitter debate, for the cost of a name change would run to millions of dollars.

What’s in a name anyway? A city is defined by its spirit. By that measure, Pretoria has already changed beyond recognition.