Saturday morning we headed out of town to catch some local horse racing. Eight races were scheduled for the day. Oh my, what a cultural experience that was! The scene as we drove down the dirt road through an old potato field was hilarious. I did a double take when I saw the track, which is just a plowed section of the field; it’s very hard dirt and littered with rocks (although I think most of the potatoes were gone). No rails, no starting gate. I gave up trying to find the barns or wash racks or anything that resembled a horse training facility. The horses were scattered among the olive trees, tied to the vans they came in on. I use the word "van" loosely because they sure looked like the open top garbage trucks we have in the U.S.! The grooms and jocks milled about in preparation.

Horses tied to their "vans" before a race.

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