"Sarah wants champagne ..."

What a very busy weekend, it's taken me three days to recover (no kidding). It kicked off with the pre-party for the Pepsi/Lays ICC semi-final cricket match between Pakistan and New Zealand. This was held at the Hyatt (by the way, did you know that there will soon be another Hyatt, this time a Golf Estate and Spa, in sleepy old George, soon?) and the area was cordoned off for the morning. Everyone arrived ultra-casual, in flats and jeans, ready for the cricket. I have had cricket explained to me on occasions too numerous to remember, usually by 20 something boys who tried to take me off to the Wimpy later. It all goes in one ear and out of the other (this is the cricket I am talking about, you understand) as I really am not a Wimpy kind of gal. I understand the absolute rudiments of cricket but it is such a complicated game and it takes so long for anything to happen that an immense weariness overtakes me. Try explaining that to the fans at Wanderers though, some of whom looked like they wandered in off the Pride parade which was cantering past the Hyatt before lunch and disrupting the traffic. "I'm stuck in the fag parade," wailed a friend who couldn't get through and landed up in Jellicoe Avenue waiting for the millions of Pride supporters to pass, and some tourists who justtagged along for the fun of it.

The afternoon started with a braai lunch for which we were all very grateful as breakfast either didn;t happen or was too long ago to rememeber. A heated debate started up over lunch on the subject of Paris Hilton and whether she was a useless piece of fluff or not. Who knew there was a case for the world's biggest oxygen thief, but the debate grew so interesting that a decision was taken to start up a proper debating society in Joburg, with a chair and all.

The cricket went on until 9pm that night but for some strange reason most of the celebs who were invited took one look at the cricket and said: "That's it, we;re off on the next bus." Some hardy souls braved a prego roll after the match back at the Hyatt but most went on to the Cleo Bachelors Bash (not rated very well by many of them)

The following morning was the Avis Derby at Kyalami Equestrian Park where all sorts of pretty horses jumped, trotted, pirouetted and showed off their form. It was a weekend of pungent horse pooh as the horses at the cricket were quite busy too. I was alarmed when someone asked me what I wanted to drink and someone else suggested champagne. The cry went up ... "Sarah wants champagne!" This made me sound like the biggest brat in Christendom but it did not stop there. Later on, round about pudding time, I idly admired the icecream stand. "Sarah wants icecream!" was duly shouted out. It was time to make a joke of it with friends: "SARAH WANTS ..." became the refrain of the day. But I did quite like "Sarah wants champagne", must remember that for future reference!

After all the champagne and icecream I headed off to Montecasino to see the first night of Cats. Never having seen it before I was fascinated by Carte Blanche producer George Mazarakis telling me how he saw a performance in London in 1982 with Elaine Page. It was theatre in the round with a difference he said, the stage revolved around the performers so it was an iMax experience before its time!