PARIS, April 6, 2004 - Spending 18 months in an Indiana
cornfield was just the training I needed for a few
days here.
In walking the city today, rain fell several times
followed by spurts of sunshine with chilly wind mixed
in for good measure. Of course, Marion had far fewer
cafes to duck into for a drink and a sandwich.
Although, the only real coffee shop in Marion did have
better panini sandwiches than I have yet to find here.
On my second day here I visited the outside of the
Louvre (it was closed as were almost all the restaurants
on Monday night - the French like to relax), Notre
Dame, the Pantheon and some other really old
buildings.
The real action took place Monday when I went to the
Saint Cloud race course with Gina Rarick, a horse
racing writer with the International Herald Tribune.
The day started with me taking the train out of Paris
and into Mason Lafeite, a suburb of Paris that is more
of a horse town than even Lexington, Ky.
All the land that is now Mason Lafeite was once owned
by a king.
But ever since the king was forced to sell the grounds
to escape debt -- that I like to think was the result of
poor handicapping -- the grounds were turned into a
village that is centered around a huge complex devoted
to horse training and horse racing.
Gina, the horse racing writer for the IHT as well as a business editor at the paper, is deep in this sport as well as the village and she showed me around the
grounds and introduced me to her horse, some other
riders and her friend, a legendary trainer who has
been the top trainer of steeplechase horses for 17 out
of the last 20 years.
After a horse related injury that put him in a coma
for three months, the trainer, Jean Paul Gulliorni, fought his way back by
buying horses at the monthly butcher auction. He would
then turn those discarded horses into winners.
Jean Paul, 63, is also infamous for having young wives
- his last was 21 and his current is 30.
He was quite a character who patrols his barns from
behind the wheel of a Benz SUV instead of a horse. It
must be something about horse racing that attracts
such interesting people.
Once at St. Cloud, Gina and I won a several races
since she is an expert on the local racing scene.
There are several differences between French and
American racing. For one, hardly anyone goes to the
track since bookies have so infected the sport that
most gamblers would rather stay in the pub and bet
than actually drive to the track.
Another difference is that they have apprentice races
for young jockeys and they have amateur races for
hobby jockeys like Gina and her friend, Yannick, a
North African.
Yannick, a nervous wreck, was riding Monday in the
daily amatuer race on an even more nervous horse that
was named Flea Bag in French. He and Flea Bag left the
gate at 15 to 1.
In the middle of the pack the entire race, Yannick and
Flea Bag managed to find some speed toward the
end and they ended up finishing in third.
I, not even a friend of Yannick's or the nervous Flea
Bag, put $12 down and Gina put down $6.
So that paid nicely and made us feel less guilty about
a delicious French dinner at a French restaurant that
will hereby be known as "Le French Restaurant."
Tomorrow is more sightseeing around Paris and Thursday
is more horse racing at Long Champ, a more stuffy
track that is filled with the current French snobbery.
The people I have encountered have not been too rude.
I have been able to get by with only a basic knowledge
of the native language; I can say hello, excuse me,
good bye and Heineken in French.
Most people change to English after they say something
and I make my "Sorry, I'm a dumb American with a
pocket full of Euros" face. Ah, cash - the universal
language.
I hope everyone is well.
I will be writing next from Germany.
Take care,
Brett
