Sunday, June 04, 2006

Epsom Races

Saturday was Epsom races, and I'm not going to bore you with the details, as we all know when you go to the races it's a fantastic day, but doesn't' really sound exciting when you re-tell the story. For example, I had an absolute ball, but when asked what did I do there, all I can respond is that I stood around drinking??
So let's just go over the highlights in dot point form (why do I feel like I'm padding out a High School essay?):

Train trip to Epsom: two hours late for the designated meeting with friends after a hectic Friday night but seemed some of the gang were in the same boat, so the train trip was good (UK public drinking in the - brilliant). The walk from the station to the track was about two miles on a perfect 25 degree day, however a few people were getting a bit hot. Not me: I had thrown some ice in a backpack to carry my beers (travelers - all 8 of them) on the train. With a cut here and a snip there, the ice was slowly melting in my bag and chilling my back and legs (ideas man I am).

Races: didn't see many horses.

Positioning: I had the best of both worlds. Valvo and his mates were all along the boundary and near the tote, so whenever a race was on I could go down and get a bet. While the footy boys were on the hill with a BBQ, free beer and a live band next to us (although 'band' in the same vein as those that play at the Carnegie RSL on Wednesday nights in a 60s revival spectacular). Mind you the rocket scientists with the BBQ had a bit of trouble getting it going in the light breeze and so basically had taken it under the bus and lit it nearer the fuel tank. I ended up spending more time with the free beer and food brigade.

On the track: Once the races were over it was time to explore the track closer in the form of a nudey run. The Clapham Demons 6.15. The stewards chased the guys down and an angry young bloke with an extremely bad case of short man syndrome started cursing and looking around angrily. We were informed we were all in trouble and so we wandered off and ignored him. He nearly exploded.

Going home: A long, fun day which included 7 hours of drinking, 4 hotdogs, one steak sandwich, plate of salad, £30 down and nice bit of colour on the skin. Time to head home, have a shower and continue the endeavours (did I mention drinking on the train?).