Would you fancy a day at the races?

While I sat waiting for this morning's Air Berlin flight to Stansted, there was a noisy buzz in departures.

The cream of local society was waiting to board flyBE's flight to Birmingham on their way to a day at the Cheltenham races.

A party of twenty. Dressed in sharp blazers and striped suits, handkerchief hanging out of top pocket, high heels and carrying bulging brown envelopes. No joke. Thick A5 envelopes of cash inside their folded copies of The Racing Post.

It wouldn't be unfair to call them the "chattering classes" ... the departure's area is a lot quieter now they've gone through the gate.

Though one or two were less than enthusiastic about the day ahead at the gee gees. One woman commented dolefully, "Nothing much to do ..."

I've a tip for them - keep your hands and your brown envelopes in your pockets and you'll come home having only lost your plane fare! Better still, stay at home, watch it on Channel 4, and if you really have to have a flutter, help your local bookies make up for their alleged election losses.

But maybe I lack an appreciation for horse racing. Maybe I'm prejudiced through my ignorance? Not much different to the fear we sometimes feel when confronted with people unlike ourselves. With localities unlike our own. With language and culture unlike our own.

Maybe I'm horsist? Or equinophobic?