Mongolian Derby Second Time?

Its Friday and my favourite afternoon past time is sitting in Hermanus on the West Coast of South Africa. I eat oysters, drinking white wine and watch the Southern Right whales feeding their calf’s in Walker Bay. Add the company and it’s idyllic.

Unfortunately ‘the adventurer’ is not in South Africa but Horsham, West Sussex, England, staying with my father. Not that visiting ones father is unfortunate. However after being here for two weeks I am pulling at the bit to get away for the weekend.

Off to London and the bright lights this afternoon, meeting my good friend Nick. Those regular readers will remember that the last time I met Nick and his friends in the city a £500 wager was placed and duly won by yours truly. This evening event is only a prelude to the real reason for going to the city, although who knows what will materialise from this evening shenanigans.



On Saturday morning I shall be going horse riding. I have entered a competition, the prize, the entrance fee to the 3rd Mongolian Derby a not unsubstantial $10,000. To win, I need to make a video being interviewed sitting on a horse.

Why? You are asking would I want to enter the same race I came third in two years ago. Where I had four unofficial dismounts and took six stitches. Where I lost feeling in three toes due to hyperthermia. Where I lost so much weight I looked like this at the finish line



The Mongolian people are one of the most generous races of people in the world. They are fun, and they laugh easily. Their hospitality shows no bounds. I entered a camp one evening, using only sign language. I asked if I could stay the night. I was shown to a tent, where they showed me a bed. I was then shown to another tent where a wedding party was in full progress. I was given food, strong drink and a seat next to the bride. Two aunties, who had also taken strong drink, proceeded to teach me naughty words in Mongolian, much to the amusement of all present.

It was amazing, songs, speeches, and laughter. In my old age I intend to tell the tail to my grandchildren, of the day I attended a Mongolian wedding.

Is this my reason to enter the longest and toughest horse race in the world? Not a chance.

Third place is only the second of those who came last. As you know ‘the adventurer’ is nothing if not competitive.

I want to enter the race TO WIN.

New Years Skiing

New Year was spent in Le Grande Terche, a ski village south of Morzine in the French Alps where this Adventurer happens to be lucky enough to own an apartment.
It is part of the Porte Du Solaire one of the most expansive ski regions in the world. However Le Grande Terche is a small family resort consisting of one black, three reds and three blue ski runs. In the village it has three bars and three restaurants. A friend Gavin and his girlfriend came to visit for the New Years festivities.

The evening started badly, I had roasted a chicken for dinner prior to tearing up the village at midnight. Even Gavin a kick boxing coach could not beat the toughest bird any of us had ever encountered. Not to be deterred Champagne was opened and the EFS (French ski school) set off the evening with a touch lit descent followed by an early fireworks display. The fireworks were set off early due to health and safety reasons, i.e. nobody could be trusted to be sober enough at midnight to light the fireworks. Now that is the kind of health and safety I agree with.

The last time I was out with Gavin he had worn a ‘Morph’ outfit to the public house we were visiting, much to the amusement of all patrons. It was no surprise therefore that after the Champagne he produced face paints explaining he could not get the Captain America outfit into his luggage. Once suitable attired we went off to paint if not the town, then the New Year revellers red, green, yellow and blue.

At 4am after a night of partying where at one time we had a cue of revellers waiting to have their face painted we decided to call it a day and slopped off to bed.

For the next few days paint was found on sheets, table clothes, towels etc. people we met that night came up to us shaking our hands wishing us Happy New Year, or shaking their heads and running in the opposite direction. What a couple of pounds spent on face paint can do is truly remarkable.

New Years day, a little jaded we approach the pieste for the real excitement of the holiday. Gavin and I set off to teach the debutant girls how to snow plough on the green slope before lunch. To our great delight both girls seemed to pick up the basics quickly leaving us to try a little more difficult slope in the afternoon.

Now I am quite a reasonable skier as one would expect of the Adventurer who owns an apartment in the French Alps. I was taught by my cousins who were in the Canadian ski team. So I had a quick look at Gavin’s style told me he was an intermediate skier with lots of fitness and upper body strength to get him out of trouble. I took him straight off pieste and watched him slip down the mountain on his back side.

Tough chicken? If there is one thing that annoys me, its people who criticize my cooking!