We shared a curious mind, a thirst for faraway places with strange sounding names and foods prepared in an unfamiliar manner and served in pleasant surroundings. Angelo was a terrific travel mate. Going to racetracks to watch the horses run were weekly trips between travels to Australia, Ireland, Italy, Mexico, Tahiti, Canada, and the USA. I was a novice at the beginning of this racing journey and not greatly knowledgeable when it ended. But it was fun and encompassed so much more than horse racing. I picked a few winners too, mostly by being devoted to the feminine entering the field of jockeys. They were like a bud bursting into a flower at springtime. I also followed my instinct for the long shots and the racing form for the lesser payoff of favorites. These were pre-internet years when information was not readily available at my fingertips.
Running with the Horses, a memoir of travel, racetracks, & foods
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