ALBURY - ALBURY GOLD CUP

Presenter: Jack Mercer

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Long trip across the state, this one, and I broke it up with a night in Wagga on the way through.

Didn’t do much more than have a beer and a look at the river, but enough to tell Sophie, who’s covering Wagga properly herself soon, that I found a very decent parma while I was there.

She can thank me later.

But Albury’s where this one’s really about.

It sits right on the Murray, staring across at Wodonga in Victoria, and there’s something about a city built on a state border that gives it a slightly different energy.

It can feel like the last stop before somewhere else, or the first stop into somewhere new, depending which way you’re driving.

I spent a good hour in the Botanic Gardens, which I wasn’t expecting to enjoy nearly as much as I did. They’ve been part of Albury since the nineteenth century, and some of the old trees in there have reached the stage where they make you feel appropriately small.

Down at Noreuil Park, I watched a few blokes fishing along the Murray and tried to imagine the days when the river was part of the great inland trading network.

 

A STATION WITH A STORY

Then there’s the railway station.

Now that’s worth a look.

For generations Albury was where passengers travelling between Sydney and Melbourne had to change trains because New South Wales and Victoria had built their railways to different gauges.

Two states.

One railway journey.

Two different-sized tracks.

Very Australian, that.

The station still has an extraordinarily long platform, a reminder of just how important this border city once was to the journey between Australia’s two biggest cities.

I’d come down for the Albury Cup, and it turned out to be a good excuse for a genuinely interesting stop on a long trip.

If you’re ever making the Sydney-to-Melbourne run yourself, give Albury more than the usual fuel stop.

Around Cup time, give it the night.

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THE ALBURY GOLD CUP REPORT
20 March 2026

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THE $41 LOCAL HERO

By Albury, Finn had developed an unfortunate habit of finding horses Kenny didn’t particularly want to hear about.

“Number thirteen.”

Kenny looked down the page.

Bianco Vilano.

“Forty-one dollars.”

Finn nodded.

“Local horse.”

“Forty-one dollars.”

“Local trainer.”

“Finn. Forty-one dollars.”

Tommy leaned across.

“I think he knows the price.”

From the outside barrier, Tyler Schiller took Bianco Vilano back and waited.

And waited.

Coming towards the turn, he was still near the rear.

Kenny folded his race book.

“Well, that went well.”

“Hang on.”

Schiller brought Bianco Vilano to the outside.

Then the local horse started coming.

One passed.

Then another.

Suddenly Finn was standing.

“Kenny.”

“I can see him.”

Bianco Vilano swept down the outside, gathered up Plymouth and kept going.

The $41 outsider had won the Albury Gold Cup.

For local trainer Ron Stubbs.

On his home track.

Finn slowly turned towards Kenny.

Kenny held up a hand.

“Don’t.”

Tommy was laughing.

“He’s going to.”

Finn smiled.

“Forty-one dollars.”

Kenny walked away.