The Trots

When I was a child my nan caused me huge embarrasment by sending me into school with a note to the class teacher explaining I was suffering from a funny tummy. Only she didn't write that, she wrote "Sarah was off school yesterday because she had the trots". The teacher read it out and the whole class fell about laughing. They're much more politically correct these days.

This evening I joined Kate and Yvonne and some of their crowd at the trots at Harold Park raceway.

"The Trots" in Australia refers to harness racing. The rider sits on a little triangle of canvas on two wheels and gets trotted around the raceway. The horse has to trot in a particular way, it has to keep pace or it will be disqualified. In some cases the legs are held together with another sort of harness to make sure they move in time.

Anyway, it was an experience. The lady taking the bets looked exactly like Les Dawson in his Cissy and Ada sketches so I kept nudging Kate (who you might remember is British) and pushing my bosom up with my arm saying "muck". I loved Les Dawson and was glad someone could share the reference. Imagine living alone in Australia and not being able to refer to Les Dawson and his bum piano notes.

I had no idea what I was doing but left only $5 dollars down, having spent $25 on gin which meant I placed a bet on every race. Now I know how the Queen Mother felt. Unlike her, however, my biggest win was only $49.

I got talking to Yvonne afterwards while we were waiting for our taxi. We were discussing whether people ought to climb Ulhuru (Ayers Rock). The aborigines hold it sacred and request that tourists don't climb it but still they go up there every year in their thousands. Yvonne climbed it in 1997, Darren climbed it in 1996. I photographed it at sunset the night before and opted for the extra kip, which I think I've mentioned before because I regret now not having been right up close to it.

"I wouldn't climb it now" she said. "I'm more respectful I suppose, though they still give me the shits"

"Who? The aborigines?"

"Yeah, they piss me off. Believe me there are plenty of benefits to being aboriginal. If you can prove you are at least 1/32 aboriginal, you can claim all sorts of things, it's supposed to compensate for the fact you'd be discriminated against"

"Like what?" I asked

"Well I grew up in Rocky (Rockhampton). It was a small town and there was a kid in my class called Max. He had red hair, freckles and blue eyes but somewhere along the line he was part aboriginal but we didn't know that. Anyway, I was learning to drive and the lessons were really expensive. There was one driving instructor and one driving examiner and as they were married to one another, if you didn't take the lessons you didn't pass the test. I got an evening job to pay for it and the lessons cost me my entire weeks wages. Then Max rocks up and says he's got himself ten free driving lessons and I ask him how and he says he's part aboriginal. I'm like - get outta here - since when? I mean, how could he ever be disciminated against if nobody could see he was part aboriginal?"

"I'd have thought the red hair would have caused him more problems"

"Exactly. Anyway, the goverment paid for his lessons. It's always about appeasement but I don't get it. I mean, yes the land wasn't uninhabited when the Brits arrived but hell, they fought and they conquered. That's how the modern world was settled. Get over it".