ust be Cup Day today, because it’s stupidly hot. It seems like it’s always stupidly hot on Cup Day, keeping the ambulances busy with drunken heat-stroke victims (and then, just when the weather has lulled us into thinking maybe summer is here and planning barbeques, the weather packs in again until after Christmas). At least there’s no nor’wester blowing (yet), but from the way my hayfever is reacting, there must still be a lot of dust in the air.
I, of course, am not at the racecourse, I’m at work. In fact, I’ve never been to Cup Day in all the years I’ve lived in Christchurch. I suppose I should go one year, just to experience it, but somehow spending a day amongst elegantly-dressed people trying their hardest to get as inelegantly drunk as possible has never really appealed. (Apparently there’s some sort of horse race associated with the day as well, but all the media report on are the fashions and the drunkenness…)