Two weeks ago, this was South Africa’s equivalent of Ladies’ Day at Royal Ascot. Every year there is a theme. This year’s was about mixing and matching – promoting J&B whisky with a contrasting soft drink. I wore my Swazi flag shirt matched with blue shorts. Don and I tried out for the most elegant couple, but for some reason, the paparazzi were nowhere to be seen, so we were not invited onto the centre stage.
It was fun hobnobbing with Cape Town Society. The gay men were the most stylish, even if not the most flamboyant. I liked the lady with an LP on the side of her head, the lad with an Indian feather war bonnet and the chap in the skirt.
We had rotten luck and didn’t bet on a single winner. In the fifth race, we fancied two horses equally, so we placed a “boxed exacta” – the horses to come in first and second – I think in UK we call it “reverse forecast”. They came in second and third. At least we didn’t lose our shirts (45p a bet) – not that anyone would take them off our backs.