A Day at the Races
A fair few things have occurred since I last blogged. I have started on the Stella again. She is an old and dear friend and as it was happy hour, so she was cheap. Suffice to say I now remember why I was using Carlton draft rather than its more refined continental cousin, especially as I was out with work colleagues. I don’t think I was too bad however, I do remember talking to various strangers and I swear I have made arrangement to meet someone in Sydney in a months time but hey, what can you do.
Three Saturdays ago I was exposed first hand to Australia’s National Obsession, no, not losing to England in every major sporting event like Curling, but Horse racing. Anyone who has been to Australia knows that the average Oz is a fan of the ‘odd’ bet or two. This is apparent when you walk into pubs that have a bookies attached, a brilliant idea I think.
As it was the start of the Spring racing calendar, I put on my best and only pair of jeans and headed to Caufield. I was meeting a friend (Steveo) who has recently moved back to Melbourne from London. As a veteran of Royal Ascot, I had a fair idea of what to expect, drunk men and scantily clad drunker women- suffice to say I was not disappointed. Luckily Steveo had brought some friends with him who had some knowledge of the horses and more importantly, knew how to place a bet. As far as the betting went, mine and Steveos first race went well and we doubled our money with a bet on the cert. This was not rocket science. However, the good times could last forever, and my winning streak soon waned when none of the bookies could understand a word I was saying. This could have been due to the drink or the accent (which many English don’t understand) but rather than placing the bets that I wanted, they seemed to mishear me and put my money on some random donkey. Perturbed by this I decided that it was time to grow up and concentrate on getting drunk. And boy did I.
Booze was cheap and it was flowing. I could tell I was not in the winner enclosure by the plastic cups and drunken groups of men, women and children. It reminded me of how London would have been in the 18th Century during the Gin Drinking Mania. The only thing missing was a bloke running around naked like we got at Ascot, but judging by some of the dresses the women were wearing we almost nearly had that, as I said it was a VERY good Afternoon
So, after a delightful day of losing money we all retired to the most convenient pub nearest the race course, to capitalize on the good work we had started 5 hours prior. It was a massive pub and even had a live band, playing such aussie classics as….well you know what I mean. All in all it was a very good day.
Culture Part 1
Since leaving the cultural desert of London, I have taken it upon me to amerce myself in Melbourne theatre, (theatre = theater for Amy). A few weeks ago Belinda and I attended a series of short plays at a local theatre group. Despite usually running away from anything that didn’t have an actor from the Bill or Eastenders in, I decided to give it a go. I was actually very surprised just how much I enjoyed it. I thought it would be a group of do-gooder hippies taliking about crap, but in fact, it was only half filled with do gooder hippies talking crap. The rest was very good and may change the way I look at Art, or it might not.
I just thought I would keep you in touch with all my enlightening experiences.
Three Saturdays ago I was exposed first hand to Australia’s National Obsession, no, not losing to England in every major sporting event like Curling, but Horse racing. Anyone who has been to Australia knows that the average Oz is a fan of the ‘odd’ bet or two. This is apparent when you walk into pubs that have a bookies attached, a brilliant idea I think.
As it was the start of the Spring racing calendar, I put on my best and only pair of jeans and headed to Caufield. I was meeting a friend (Steveo) who has recently moved back to Melbourne from London. As a veteran of Royal Ascot, I had a fair idea of what to expect, drunk men and scantily clad drunker women- suffice to say I was not disappointed. Luckily Steveo had brought some friends with him who had some knowledge of the horses and more importantly, knew how to place a bet. As far as the betting went, mine and Steveos first race went well and we doubled our money with a bet on the cert. This was not rocket science. However, the good times could last forever, and my winning streak soon waned when none of the bookies could understand a word I was saying. This could have been due to the drink or the accent (which many English don’t understand) but rather than placing the bets that I wanted, they seemed to mishear me and put my money on some random donkey. Perturbed by this I decided that it was time to grow up and concentrate on getting drunk. And boy did I.
Booze was cheap and it was flowing. I could tell I was not in the winner enclosure by the plastic cups and drunken groups of men, women and children. It reminded me of how London would have been in the 18th Century during the Gin Drinking Mania. The only thing missing was a bloke running around naked like we got at Ascot, but judging by some of the dresses the women were wearing we almost nearly had that, as I said it was a VERY good Afternoon
So, after a delightful day of losing money we all retired to the most convenient pub nearest the race course, to capitalize on the good work we had started 5 hours prior. It was a massive pub and even had a live band, playing such aussie classics as….well you know what I mean. All in all it was a very good day.
Culture Part 1
Since leaving the cultural desert of London, I have taken it upon me to amerce myself in Melbourne theatre, (theatre = theater for Amy). A few weeks ago Belinda and I attended a series of short plays at a local theatre group. Despite usually running away from anything that didn’t have an actor from the Bill or Eastenders in, I decided to give it a go. I was actually very surprised just how much I enjoyed it. I thought it would be a group of do-gooder hippies taliking about crap, but in fact, it was only half filled with do gooder hippies talking crap. The rest was very good and may change the way I look at Art, or it might not.
I just thought I would keep you in touch with all my enlightening experiences.
posted by Koole Guy at 12:09 pm
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