Many racing folk are at their most glamorous this week, in top hats and tails, headpieces and frocks, for the Olympics of flat racing, Royal Ascot.

I may be enjoying it from the comfort of my couch this year, but I enjoy donning my glad rags as much as the next person. The pain of pinching heels eases with plenty of Pimms, forgotten when faced with top-class racing, all the time spurred on by the prospect of post-race picnics in the carpark.