How can you not fall in love with this country? It was June 1, 17 degrees with a relentless biting wind, but the crowds didn't care. It was race day – horse racing that is – and in the grandstands, you had to dress for the occasion. That meant top hats and frock coats for the gentlemen, dresses and hats for the ladies. High heels made walking on the grass alongside the racetrack a particularly perilous and comical experience. The three bottles of Champagne, priced at £123 apiece (€146), placed in ice buckets beside Mary-Jane Forster and her friends, were hardly conducive to walking upright either.

It was 1pm, and the English were determined to celebrate the annual Derby at Epsom Downs racecourse, an hour south of London. The day before, King Charles III had graced the grounds with his presence. Apart from a few cell phones, the scene has hardly changed since Victorian times. The upper class enjoys flitting from one social event to another during the "social season," which begins in April with the rowing race between Oxford and Cambridge universities, and ends in August with the Cowes regatta in the waters between the south coast and the Isle of Wight.

The remarkable self-mockery of the British, who take their lack of seriousness very seriously, made it all quite charming. Yet the festive atmosphere does little to conceal a gloomy mood. "The country's in bad shape, people are glum, divided," said 36-year-old Forster, her white hat perched precariously on her head. "Look at this," said her husband, Shane Harries, who is from South Africa. "It's fun, but it's so pompous. Colonial even!" Wearing a white hat with a veil and huge rings on her fingers, Jane Kimber could hardly believe her boldness as she declared, at the age of nearly 80: "My mother would turn in her grave, but, for the first time, I won't be voting Conservative." An early general election will take place on July 4, and the polls are predicting a rout for the Tories, who have been in power for 14 years.

A few hundred metres away you'll find The Hill, a small elevation from which you can see the race. Unlike the grandstands, watching from here is free and popular with working class people. Here, techno music blared among the fairground attractions. Teenage girls in skimpy outfits hopelessly tugged at their miniskirts, shivering despite the flowing alcohol.

Olivia Fletcher, 21, with pink hair and boundless enthusiasm, laughed: "Of course the economy is catastrophic and things are going badly. That's what being British is all about: sitting on the grass getting drunk and looking at the rich bastards on the other side of the fence. But the real humanity is on our side, of course. Look at how warm this community is!" Needless to say, she won't be voting Conservative.

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