The sporting events were coming fast and furious over the bank holiday weekend. There was a horseracing festival at Leopardstown, and I’d booked tickets in advance for day two.
The night before we’d seen Depeche Mode at the Dublin Arena which was a very convenient two-minute stroll from our hotel. Jen is more of a fan than I am. They are not a band that I’ve listened to much, but I liked some of their early Vince Clarke era stuff when I was a kid and they’ve had enough hits over the years to keep my attention.
Next morning we caught the tram to somewhere near the racecourse. It was packed with people dressed up. I’ve never really seen the need to go to the races in the sort of clobber that you’d wear to a wedding. Mind you, I barely see the point of it for a wedding either.
There were double decker shuttle buses waiting at the final tram stop to ferry people to the course and despite there being a crowd of around thirty thousand, it was all very straightforward to get in and out.
We’d paid forty euros a pop for regular tickets, which were fine. We had access to the parade ring and to a terraced standing grandstand. There were plenty of bars and I didn’t ever have to wait long for my next Guinness.
In a stroke of luck, I was able to watch the Boro’s game against Sunderland on the telly between races, although I missed our no-doubt well-taken goal on the hour and then their spawny equaliser towards the end.
I was less fortunate with the horses despite having spent half-an-hour or so making my selections that morning. I seem to recall just the one winner, which wasn’t at big enough odds to counter all of the losers. Jen picked some more on the basis of their names and they did no better. Perhaps we need a new system.
With rain imminent, we skipped the last race to avoid any bus or tram queues and were soon back in the city centre to continue celebrating the bank holiday weekend.
Trail of the Lion King 