So, Thursday was let’s spoil Granny day.
Friday we went to the races.
I hadn’t been since I was pregnant with younger son.
Which was forty something years ago.
Wait I should know this….
Ok…41 years ago.
Don’t knock me.
I have eleven birthdays to remember between kids and grandkids.
You can’t expect me to remember their actual ages.
We nearly didn’t get to the races.
I knew the road to take.
And I took the right road.
But, apparently, everyone in Port Elizabeth knows where the race course is.
And, apparently, they don’t expect visitors.
There was no signpost telling one where to turn.
I was nearly in the next town before I decided something was wrong and I turned around.
Coming back there was a faded old sign.
ML had a very painful leg.
She couldn’t manage the 100 or so metres from the hotel to the casino because there was a slight uphill.(fortunately there was a shuttle that could take us right into the building)
Anyway, we get to the racecourse and there is a brand new building.
We are booked for the top floor.
Eight flights of stairs.
And the lift had packed up.
She made it but I had visions of us spending the next few days there.
Thankfully, they repaired the lift before we had to leave.
I had fun.
I put about R20 on the first race and won R320.
Then I won R120 on the next race.
And I thought this is easy.
The rest of the horses I picked are still running.
A very pretty race course.
We had a nice lunch.
There was a smoking room.
All good stuff.
However, I did find it a bit boring waiting between races.
Other people spent their time studying the race books.
Looking at form, race conditions and jockeys etc.
I picked outsiders with nice names.
There was a bit of drama.
Wouldn’t be me if there wasn’t a bit of excitement.