In no better health than American thoroughbred racing, I visited one of France’s great flat tracks Monday.
The crowd at L’Hippodrome de St. Cloud was light and of the same demographics you see on a regular day at the track in the US.
Seb and Valerie joined me as we took a train and bus to reach St. Cloud just off the western edge of the city limits of Paris.
It’s a beautiful facility in all respects. It’s well-kept despite its age. It opened in 1901. A man sitting at a table just outside the admission gate sold the national edition of Paris-Turf for two euros. It was the only available printed wagering resource I saw that was for sale.
Paris-Turf has news, entries and results for the country’s race cards. Past performance information was scant relative to what you get from DRF so I just played Christophe Soumillon mounts in every race he rode. He failed to win on Monday.
Valerie played a “place” bet in the featured 4th and her horse Smart Whip finished third. Because the field size for that event was 18 (more than 8) she cashed big because of Whip’s long odds. In races where the field size is eight or less, a place bet is the same as a place bet in the States, and your horse must finish second of better.
It was Valerie’s first time at the races. She cashed three tickets – and I think she got the bug. The racing bug.
In the 5th, the horse Seb wagered on dumped his rider and fled. Broadcloth sent Pierre-Charles Boudot to the grass and ran away just before the race. While we were concerned for the colt’s safety, it was a comic scene and Boudot briefly set chase on foot.
I’m not exaggerating when I say Broadcloth was loose for a solid 10-15 minutes. He ran at least three or four times the actual race distance before apprehension. I was shocked to see the rest of field circle patiently near the gate the entire time and then watch as Broadcloth was loaded for the race.
There’s no way a Broadcloth-type situation would yield anything other than a scratch in the States. But here he was, allowed to participate, despite clearly using all his gas on the frolick.
He finished last.
Admission was 5 euros. I had an excellent ham and cheese sandwich for 5 euros. Beers were 3.5 euros. We placed our wagers on betting machines that were pretty simple to understand despite the single language option.
The compact nature of the plant allowed for easy movement between seating, betting and the beautiful paddock area.
You get a great view of the Paris skyline as you face the track.
After the field crosses the finish line, they deposit into a gorgeous open space of grass, make a right turn and scamper back to the barn on a narrow path right in front of the grandstand.
It was there after the final race that I saw a disgruntled horseplayer throw a crumpled up ticket at the horse/jockey combo he had bet on. He muttered something at the rider and threw the balled-up piece of paper right at him. It actually kinda scared me given how a horse might react to a sudden projectile.
On Monday night, we saw the Nashville singer/songwriter Stewart Bronaugh and his band Lionlimb at a Paris club called Supersonic. It was cool although the crowd chatter was way too high. Bronaugh opened with a number that immediately made you think Elliott Smith.
One full day left in Paris. Gonna try to see PSG/Dijon tonight.