Made all the better with sunshine and a gentle breeze we, my good friends Mick and Chris, set off up the A12 towards Chelmsford City race track. Chris driving, (as ebullient as ever) managed to doubt his navigation, so we went past the pretty parts of the A130 just a couple of times but, he was forgiven as this was the first time we had ever ventured so deep into the “sheep stealing” countryside of Essex.
Ever conscious that laggards and near-do-wells lurked behind each tree and bush we did eventually reach our destination. A quite charming spot of hospitality – parked about three miles away, Mick suggested we follow the crowds walking towards the entrance.
Inside the enclosure, Mick (Bless him) identified exactly where to find a beer, whilst Chris stuck resolutely to a cup of tea and a bite to eat. As it was “Ladies Day” at Ascot, so it seemed it was ladies day at Chelmsford, with girls of all ages in skirts of debatable length, and shoe heels in contravention of Health & Safety guidelines, many with “fascinators” perched precariously on their bonce. There was unfortunately a pratt, commentating live on the CCTV screen, making lewd comments about this “Gorgeous girl wearing this or that” and although, | have worked on building sites up and down the country, I felt the pratt was indulging in “verbal leering”. There was no need for that and certainly a number of the women interviewed showed some discomfort at his comments.
The bookies stood in a line, obviously reluctant to take our money in bets, but we persevered and were just a few pounds lighter over the afternoon. Having said however, we did manage to lighten their load by a few quid with one lucky guess from me and two other analytical laser like stabs from Mick and Chris.
All in all, I would thoroughly recommend another visit to this venue, but only with my good comrades as they are my good friends and they make me laugh.