WELLINGTON - WELLINGTON CUP

Presenter: Gareth Taylor

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Right, first one of these on my own, and I’ve had Sophie in one ear and Jack in the other for a week telling me what I’m apparently obliged to notice.

Cafés. Pubs. “The character of the place.”

Whatever that means exactly.

I’ll do my best.

I’m Gareth, by the way. On loan from the UK for a while, and Wellington’s my first proper crack at this.

I wasn’t expecting caves, if I’m honest.

But there they are, just out of town.

Wellington Caves is an extraordinary place, with fossils and remains from creatures that wandered this part of Australia long before anyone thought of putting a racecourse here.

Down in Cathedral Cave there’s an enormous stalagmite towering above you, and I stood underneath it feeling appropriately small.

They’ve discovered remains in this area from giant prehistoric marsupials, including something called a diprotodon, which sounds made up but very much isn’t.

Not bad for a paddock outside a country town.

Then there’s the lake.

Lake Burrendong, or “the Dam” as everyone local insists on calling it.

And it’s enormous.

Blokes were out fishing, families were scattered along the shoreline, and the whole place had a wonderfully lazy Sunday feel to it.

It was Tuesday.

I’d come to Wellington for the Cup, although it took about five minutes to discover that around here another race keeps entering the conversation.

The Wellington Boot.

They’re rather proud of it.

Fair enough too.

Between the caves, the lake and my first taste of country racing out here, I’d happily have stayed another day if the schedule allowed.

If you’re the sort who likes a bit of prehistoric weirdness with your race weekend, keep Wellington on the list.

I know I will.

Not bad for my first assignment, really.

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THE WELLINGTON CUP REPORT
12 April 2026

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No, You Never Get Used to It

 

Gareth found the three of them near the mounting yard.

Kenny had the race book.

Finn had an opinion.

Tommy appeared to have both.

“So you’re the English bloke?” Kenny asked.

“Apparently.”

Tommy nodded towards Finn.

“Don’t listen to him.”

Finn looked up.

“Perfumist.”

Gareth smiled.

“And why shouldn’t I listen to him?”

“You’ll learn.”

Perfumist had apprentice Liberty Smyth aboard, and when the gates opened she went forward.

Straight to the front.

Gareth watched her rolling along.

“She’s not waiting for anyone.”

Kenny nodded.

“Now she’s just got to stay there.”

Into the straight, Perfumist still led.

But Green Run was coming.

The margin disappeared.

Finn was yelling.

Tommy was yelling louder.

Gareth realised he was yelling too.

They hit the line together.

Nobody knew.

Then the number went up.

Perfumist.

By 0.08 of a length.

Gareth stared at the winning post.

“That was close.”

Kenny folded the race book.

“You’ll get used to it.”

Tommy shook his head.

“No you won’t.”

Gareth smiled.

First country Cup assignment.

He could get used to this.