Listowel
Races
Eibhlin O'Donnell
Presentation SS, Listowel,
Kerry
Each year, for as long as
I can remember, I have been making my way down to "The Island". For six
days all the action is here, in the familiar surroundings of Listowel
Racecourse.
On approaching the island
each day I am greeted by chants of "Throw me down something" from traveller
children standing waist deep in the river. Their younger sisters and brothers
are playing the harmonica on the safety of the bank. I try to dodge the
droves of people heading for the Racecourse. People pass comments on the
women passing in their Race outfits as they clik-clak along in high heels.
Each lady is more fashionable than the next. They show off their strange,
colourful hats with matching outfits, worn in the hope that their name
will be picked out as "The Best dressed Lady".
On the racecourse people are
chatting with old friends who went their separate ways many years ago
and are now reunited for the races. They boast about what they have been
doing for the past few years. Eventually they admit that they have come
back to taste the magic once again. The bookies are buzzing with activity.
Confident men are placing bets and jockeys are nervously coaxing well-groomed
horses into obeying their master.
The race begins. The stand
is overflowing with people. I cannot move without being scolded by my
elders who are engrossed in the race. Male and female eyes watch attentively
through binoculars. The horses pass the stand and roars of different horse's
names are heard.
It's by no means a cheap day
out. Besides being overcharged for sweets, one rarely wins in every race.
As the day draws to a close, the punters leave in dribs and drabs, some
bragging about how much they have won. Others, the less lucky ones leave,
saying "There's always another day".
The fun and laughter does
not stop there though. The day could never finish without a trip to the
colourful lights and rides of Bird's amusements. Children nag their parents
for money to spend on rides whose prices seem to soar higher with each
passing year. The air is filled with excitement. Young children scream
as another ride whizzes past.
If you had not squandered
all your money on the Races you would be sure to lose every last penny
you had at the amusements. It is a time filled with craic and spraoi.
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