Rain greeted the morning like a moody soundtrack— not soft and romantic, but cold, wet, and determined to test everyone’s nerves, including mine.
Breakfast was minimal—just a quick coffee, more fuel for the spirit than the stomach, because today was all about the classics.
Classic Cars, Classic Chaos
The Classic Car Category kicked off early, pushing through the mist with purpose.
Each vehicle battling through the damp to lay down the best possible times, trying to make the cut for the ultimate:
The Top 10 Shootout.
Engines from another era howled up the hill as fans watched the legends fight their way into the finals.
Midday brought comfort in the form of something unmistakably South African: a proper vetkoek filled with mince—warm, messy, and healing in all the right ways. But comfort didn’t last.
VIP Parking… or Off-Road Boot Camp?
Now. Let’s talk about my Mustang and her traumatic little detour into the most slippery, mud-soaked VIP parking lot I’ve ever dared enter.
I was stressed. The kind of stress where you start whispering to your car like it’s your partner in crime.
I had to call a friend mid-panic just to ask:
“Will she get out of this mess if I go full throttle diva?”
The answer?
Yes. She did.
Slow. Steady. Dirty as hell. But victorious.
I’m ridiculously proud of her.
But I’ve made a grown-up decision:
The rest of this weekend?
I’m using the shuttle service.
Because I love my Mustang—and I also love not getting stuck in front of a crowd holding cameras.
The Public Parade: Where the Monsters Roared
The afternoon delivered the public parade, where fans flooded the streets to get up close with the weekend’s fiercest machines.
This wasn’t racing.
This was a reveal.
From Mustangs to Nissan GTRs, Mercedes-AMGs, a few sleek electric rebels, and even some Suzuki Swifts that showed up ready to prove a point— the air was filled with engine thunder, tire treads, and pure automotive theatre.
Kids screamed, phones recorded, and even the rain backed off—briefly—as the cars gave the crowd a show worth remembering.
After the parade, I slipped into something warm and headed off to dinner—quiet, restorative, simple.
And now?
I’m in bed. The kind that hugs you after a day like this.
The kind of night that says, “You did enough. Rest now.”