I always try to be unpredictable. I don’t like people to be able to guess where I’ll be or what I’ll be doing at any given time. I am usually capricious and make most decisions on a whim. I also like to spice things up, and rarely allow myself to fall into a routine. But I break this rule each and every Wednesday, when—never fail—I arrive at Happy Valley racecourse to spend the evening. Sort of like the Grog on Thursday nights during my senior year at ‘Nova, there's only one place I'll be if you are ever looking for me on a Wednesday between 7pm and 11pm.
And I’m always one of many. The track is never empty and almost always completely packed. There is a running joke in Hong Kong that you should never get a haircut during the day on a Wednesday because the barber will be reading the racing form—not paying attention to his work—and might snip your ear off. In fact, there are still old timers who tell stories of how the stock exchange here used to close early on Wednesday afternoons so that everybody could go to the track. That’s how popular the races are. Like Rick’s Café, everybody comes to Happy Valley.
And I’m always one of many. The track is never empty and almost always completely packed. There is a running joke in Hong Kong that you should never get a haircut during the day on a Wednesday because the barber will be reading the racing form—not paying attention to his work—and might snip your ear off. In fact, there are still old timers who tell stories of how the stock exchange here used to close early on Wednesday afternoons so that everybody could go to the track. That’s how popular the races are. Like Rick’s Café, everybody comes to Happy Valley.
I have always been a fan of live horseracing. When I interned and studied in London, I went to the Royal Ascot and Glorious Goodwood race meetings. On one of my first days abroad in Paris, I went to the Prix d’Amerique race at the Hippodrome de Vincennes. And back home in New Jersey, one of my favorite summer pastimes is to spend the day at Monmouth Park Racetrack. So I struck gold, without knowing it, when I signed on for this job in Hong Kong. Until I did some research, I had no idea that there were nighttime races in Happy Valley, right in the middle of the city, every Wednesday evening.
Jurre, Becca, me and Julian at the races on a Wednesday night
Bright floodlights illuminate the grandstands and viewing area; the high-rises surrounding the track create a surreal, futuristic environment; and the shouts of excitement from onlookers when the horses round the last turn make the mood even more palpable. Between races, it almost feels more like a party than a sporting event: Lady Gaga and Sean Kingston blare from the loudspeakers, young people dance and sing and there are even games and contests. There is a great deal of atmosphere that makes it unlike any other track I’ve visited.
And Happy Valley is right in the heart of the city, only a tram ride from my office or a fifteen minute walk from my apartment. Losing my newly earned money couldn’t be easier. Or more fun.
Every now and then, especially when I go by myself, I try to sneak away from the (mostly Western) crowd out front and head up into the top level of the grandstands. It is up here that the chain-smoking, odds-obsessed, local betters gaze at the screens until the last possible minute, watching potential payouts change as post time approaches. From this perch, you can watch the entire race, whereas down below, you loose sight of the horses for a sociable amount of time, due to the large screen in the middle of the track, among the other distractions. You also remember that you are in Asia, a fact that is, sadly, all too easy to forget in Hong Kong.
Every now and then, especially when I go by myself, I try to sneak away from the (mostly Western) crowd out front and head up into the top level of the grandstands. It is up here that the chain-smoking, odds-obsessed, local betters gaze at the screens until the last possible minute, watching potential payouts change as post time approaches. From this perch, you can watch the entire race, whereas down below, you loose sight of the horses for a sociable amount of time, due to the large screen in the middle of the track, among the other distractions. You also remember that you are in Asia, a fact that is, sadly, all too easy to forget in Hong Kong.
Whether I go alone, with my roommate Jurre, or as part of a huge group, Happy Valley on a Wednesday night is always a wonderful experience. And I always give in to the temptation of ordering McDonald’s, since the one at the track—only open one night a week—is thus claimed to be the freshest McDonald’s in Hong Kong. Yet another reason why I’m always looking forward to Wednesday night!
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