There’s no yoga today and I really miss it as I know it is doing me good - it’s so difficult to do on the boat.
Mike does some computer bits and I do some boring washing. Nearly all of our friends are off to stay in a couple of houses on the beach or have gone off to stay in swanky hotels but we can do neither so I am more than a little pissed off. Washing versus swanky hotel. No competition!
We go out for a quick lunch at the noodle place but the girl gets the order wrong so I sit there eating my salad (which Mike eyes warily) and he gets nothing. When I have nearly finished we ask where his meal is and it turns out she didn’t take his order. You may wonder why I didn’t query only one meal coming out in the first place, but to be honest, this is a common occurrence. They really don’t seem to get the ‘everyone likes to eat at the same time’ thing and are constantly staggering out with food at different times.
We meet up with Bev and Moe mid afternoon and walk very briskly towards the racecourse. And I mean briskly! Bev and Moe are fit and more than 20 years younger than us.
We arrive and go straight to the betting offices. Knowing nothing about horses or the system, we resort to picking horses with names we like (ours is I’ll be back – the tourists’ favourite), putting a whole 100 rupees on to win (about £2 – the last of the big spenders, huh?) then go into the stands to watch the action - we are virtually the only white faces.
Suddenly the horses trot by and are led to their starting positions, then, amidst a cacophony of noise, they are off. They thunder past us and are gone in a flash. I’ll be back comes second.
While the horses go around the rest of the track, I study the crowd, or at least, I study the two different crowds, the have nots (and now, the probably have lesses) and the very definitely, haves, up in the balconies with their corporate champagne.
Figuring the view might be better from the other side of the track, Bev and I stroll confidently across. We get through but Mike and Moe have to pay to get in.
We go to the paddock and watch the horses being paraded for the next race, nod sagely at each other and choose more lame ducks by the sound of their names.
We choose Kenny Tee because it reminds us of the BVIs. It too comes second and again, our 100 rupees to win, is lost!
We manage to find the ice cream stall, and hoping that Mauritian ice cream doesn’t have the same effect on me as Indian ice cream does (don’t ask) I tuck into a huge almond one.
The third and final race (race 8 of the day – we just arrived late) necessitates acting like the last of the big spenders. One horse to win and one to place a whole 200 rupees this time.
Although From My Heart manages to comes second, we had placed that one to win and our other horse, My Best Friend, comes last. A spectacular set of results all around. At least ours made it into the starting boxes though. At one point, one of Bev and Moe’s choices walked sideways towards it and had to be pushed in.
As the last race finishes, tickets fly all around and people start running, either for their payouts or the exits. Tickets flutter all around. It has been a spectacle worth the few rupees.
We walk (nay, trot, remember we are with Bev and Moe here) back to the marina where after a quick shower and brush up, we meet Heidi and Casey in the bar at the Hotel Laboudonnais and have a wonderful dinner with them.
After dinner, while Heidi and Casey head for their hotel room, Mike and I wander over the road to the mess that is Jeannius. One day she will be cleaned up!
wow i love watching horse racing!i'm really having fun watching live..awesome experience you had!
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