Wednesday – Like watching Paint Dry

I haven't disappeared mysteriously without a trace. I have been a little neglectful in jotting down my daily activities for a while. I'll attempt to bring you all up to date with a brief description of how each day has been. It's not because I haven't been doing anything (unusually), it is because I've not had much time to sit down and relax.

Anyway after looking at my diary to refresh my memory, I see I covered the races on the Wednesday. There is a culture and mindset here about gambling, and there are book makers, and betting shops pretty much everywhere, and open all the time.

Interestingly, and not to healthy for the customers, a lot of the bookies are actually pubs in their own right. Surely trying to pick the winning horse/greyhound/horse and buggy is hard enough, but to let people fuel two addictions in one place is a definite recipe for disaster. I have been to a couple of calls in the TAB (generic Australian name for a bookie – don't ask me why) and even though the people needed hospital, they didn't, or where very reluctant to leave, just in-case of the next big win.

Anyway to help feed the need for races, the horse racing track here has a meet 3 or 4 times a week. An ambulance is sent every time, just on the very rare occasion a jockey gets hurt. I have attended loads of race meetings in the UK, and only twice have I ever had to render and serious treatment to the jockeys after a fall. Once at a point to point meeting a young lady broke her leg after falling off her horse, and the other time was at Brighton races when the horse tripped and threw his rider quite a long way.

Anyway – I volunteered (nothing else to do that day). We arrived at the race track about 9 in the morning, and were directed out to the far corner of the race course (after the mandatory gallon of scalding coffee, and biscuits). We were handed all the necessary extra equipment (radio, and a list of the races, jockeys, and horses.) Off we meandered to the farthest corner of the race track, and put down roots.

Not once did we get used, and we weren't meant to move from that location all day. We upset some of the natives as we started to drive back to the meeting place for coffee during the day. The only way that we could get from our parking place to the meeting place was to drive on the race course for about 500 metres, until we got to a gate, and got onto a service road. You should have seen the fuss we caused. No one told us that we were meant to leave the ambulance, and catch a little mini bus that bombed around the inside of the track after every race. It is getting to be a habit – upsetting Aussies.

Anyway, dull. There were 12 races, 1 every ½ hour, with nothing to do in between them. Fortunately I was with an ambo (it actually gets very easy to fall into the abbreviation trap) who was a good laugh. It was great to finish, and we cleared off home. I'm not complaining about the work though. 10 hours (we had to be at the race course a long time before the first race, and then we get ½ hour once we arrive on base to clean and wash the ambulance) pay overtime in the end, for sitting in a field, doing nothing. Actually we did watch 3 DVD movies on a portable DVD player that the ambulance social club had bought for just such an occasion.

I've seen more interesting paint dry, but you won't hear me complain (too loudly anyway).