The Melbourne Cup

It's the second Tuesday in November, which means it's the Melbourne Cup horse race, a public holiday in the state of Victoria.

I hadn't realised how seriously they take all of this Melbourne Cup business until today, when I was driving past one of the train stations downtown and spotted all these people getting off their commuter trains wearing wedding outfits and feather hats with running shoes and sweat socks. They were going to work, dressed for the races.

And when I got to work, there was Kath manning reception, resplendent in a lemon jacket with a white rose button hole and black and white hat. And Jackie turned up wearing her best jewellery and Mary in a straw hat she'd worn for a wedding.

At lunchtime the CEO gathered us all into the boardroom for a buffet lunch, at which point, everyone and his dog pitched up in a hat. Fortunately I'd come to work wearing a hair slide so I nipped into the craft cupboard and emerged with four yellow feathers, completing an outfit I described as cockatoo chic, though I'm not sure they saw the funny side.

Only Hilary, our British Psychologist, was dressed down. She's just been back to Britain for her Dad's 80th birthday and she's suffering the return blues. "I mean" she whispered, "My parents live in north Oxford; it's all victorian houses and shabby academics. I got off the plane in Sydney and thought, God, what am I doing in this..." she paused. "Shanty town". I smiled. I know what she means.

Anyway, after a lovely lunch of asparagus wrapped in vine leaves, sweet pappardelle peppers and hot chicken, the CEO cracked open the bubbly and two glasses later I found myself joining in the hat parade with my cocktoo chic, though predictably it won no prizes because first prize went to Kath in her lemon and white (and forgive me but I'm pretty sure the British would have given me first prize for last-minute innovation - the aussies just don't geddit do they?).

And then the race began, projected onto the boardroom wall. Delta Goodrem sang the national anthem, her long white dress blowing in the wind.

"Don't you stand for your anthem then?" I asked

"We hate that song" said Kath.

"Yeah, we wanted Waltzing Matilda" said Jackie, "And we got this lousy thing"

"Well I love it" I said. "It brings tears to my eyes, and when I get my citizenship, I'll stand for it, especially for the Melbourne Cup"

Jackie swivelled 90 degrees in her chair and glared at me.

"Don't you ever count yourself amongst us" she said. "You could never be one of us"

"Quite" I replied. "I'd never let go of my British passport. You never know when you'll need to get out of a shanty town like this, you know, back to civilisation".