UPDATE :Odds were on Charles appearing at The Everest, but it wasn’t a sure thing

Bella Nipotina won The Everest, but the real roughie was King Charles. Would he or wouldn’t he? The odds were always high on the sovereign appearing “discreetly” (per reports) at a venue crammed with 50,000 people. But then, who ever got rich backing a sure thing?

Official plans had placed Charles and Camilla at a Sydney harbourside mansion, seeing out a rest day after the long trip from Great Britain. Official photos confirmed they had awoken on Saturday morning and taken a sunny stroll at Admiralty House.

The great big question was whether this meticulously curated whirlwind five-day tour would include a last-minute alteration to battle the Sydney traffic all the way to the racecourse on Saturday afternoon. Peter V’landys was cautiously optimistic of a “cameo”. The Racing NSW chief executive knew “that he does want to come”, and his team had bought the requisite box of avocados just in case his majesty required lunch.

In reality, a first royal visit to Royal Randwick since February 1992 – when his mother, the late Queen Elizabeth, granted the then-named Australian Jockey Club her approval to call this flagship course Royal Randwick – was never a rational possibility.

Officials on the ground said such a high-profile appearance would be unheard of without weeks and possibly months of preparatory security sweeps, and that these had not been undertaken. Still, though, the speculation had built up enough steam throughout the week that we were left wondering. Would he pop in for half an avocado and the main event, The Everest? Or would he save the cameo for the day’s other group 1 race and namesake, the King Charles III Stakes?

“He’ll wait until his race,” a young man predicted through a cloud of his own vape smoke. Two women near the mounting yard were a bit more “yeah, nah” as they sipped from plastic champagne flutes, and an older fella holding a copy of the form guide empathised that Charles might be feeling fatigued given he is 75 years old, has cancer and landed in the country less than 24 hours ago.

“There was one guy,” said the woman selling Everest merch. “He said he was here for the King.”

On the whole, however, the tone among the turnout of 49,117 was one of indifference. A modern, trackside republican debate argued through juiced-up nonchalance rather than strong feelings about the monarchy one way or the other.

We were, after all, a long way from Ascot, where waistcoats are the norm and ties can be “playful” but cravats are a no-no. The dresses and skirts were often not of modest length, and the only top hat spotted in the members area was positioned precariously on the head of a thirty-something gentleman screaming “come on you donkey” at the top of his lungs.

And in the end, what did it even matter? Whatever intel V’landys did or did not have, he used in the way he knows how to continue selling this growing juggernaut to the masses. The world’s richest turf race, with its prize pool of $20 million, has stuck it to the traditionalists from the start.

Now, in its eighth year of pushing every available boundary to the limit, it has finally gained group 1 status. And who are we to tell the rabble in general admission that they cannot traipse over the can-strewn carpet in their Birkenstocks and thongs rather than dress shoes and heels? It was a wonder many there even realised some horse racing was happening very close by.

The music festival vibes crescendoed as The Everest field clip-clopped up the tunnel, and the big screen announced carnival karaoke. The music started up and all and sundry in the Queen Elizabeth stand burst into an impassioned rendition of Sweet Caroline.

A heaving mob punching the air with their seltzers and beers, some on shoulders, others draped in ponchos as the monotone blanket of cloud threatened to release its contents onto them all. When Traffic Warden reared in the gates and Jamie Kah’s runner was ruled out, the boos rang out. Once they got away, the frivolity resumed.

The scene was entirely different up in the Owners’ Pavilion, where every person present was well across the on-track action all day.

During the Sydney Stakes, a woman in a sparkly tiara gasped and turned her back on the room’s live television screen as last year’s Everest winner, Think About It, collapsed at the top of the straight. Jockey Jason Collett was thrown from the mount, and the fact both survived was just about the most remarkable feat of the day.

“I walked down waiting to see the worst, and I saw his big head bobbing up above the screen,” trainer Joe Pride told Channel Seven. “It was such relief. He’s a beautiful horse and we’ll take the best of care of him. Just a big relief, it’s not often it ends that well.”

The incident could have become a tragic postscript to a day underscored by the group of anti-horseracing protesters who greeted ticket holders as they crossed Alison Road to enter the gates. Greens spokesperson for animal welfare Mehreen Faruqi gave a speech, calling the racing industry “insidious” and “cruel”, while protesters held aloft signs that read “you bet, they die” and “fancy clothes, ugly hearts”.

For the most part, the crowds appeared more worried about beating the next set of traffic lights than the man with the microphone telling them “you should be ashamed” because “the blood is dripping out of their noses, for your day out”.

From there it was all bookies and TAB trucker caps, as that well-known battler of a betting company won big once more (it was even the slot-holder for Bella Nipotina) . Craig Williams, who rode the seven-year-old mare to victory, spent a full 40 minutes after the race snapping selfies with friends and family and fans – and anybody else who asked.

And it was just as well, because Williams was as close to royalty as they were going to get.