Drinka Pinter Milka Day

Predictable perhaps, that the late, great Harold Pinter's death announced on Christmas Day this year should have been so milked by sections of the media. I've never been quite so enamoured of him as others have; his scripts (whether original or adapted from other people’s work) come across as rather cold and superficial. I can remember seeing his frankly pretentious short play The Room at a One-Act play festival in Ipswich a few years ago, and wondered what the heck it was all about. His screenplay for The Servant seems rather contrived and unconvincing, where Dirk Bogarde’s working class servant undermines and takes over James Fox’s snooty master, a bit of whimsy on the working class Pinter’s part.

His most famous attribute was his use of language, notably the use of pauses in many of his plays. But this rather stylised approach to theatre, I find, when it works, is mainly down to the strength of the actor, not the writing.

A highly influential writer nonetheless, strongly influenced himself by Samuel Beckett – for whom Pinter (also a reasonable actor and director) performed in many of his plays, including John Gielgud’s last short film, Catastrophe in 2000.

Horsing Around

Well, now I can say I've been to my first horse race meeting - of a kind - and I can also say that I've sat in the hospitality box at a sporting event for the first time. Do everything once in your life, so they say. The specific occasion was the GFM Christmas Dinner & Disco, and having been invited, and out of sheer curiosity, I wanted to go along.

The Great Leighs Racecourse is something of a revelation in the north of Essex (I'd never heard of it until a few days ago), the first new British racecourse in 80 years, and adaptable for races both day and night, as here. The floodlights used for the purpose are very attractively designed in the shape of champagne glasses - which perhaps suggests the sort of clientele they want to attract. Even the main bar for plebians advises "Smart Casual" as the mode of dress.

As far as the racing was concerned I felt a little more at home and in touch with the sport when I occasionally popped into the main bar next door. Back in the corporate hospitality area, the food was very nice, so much so that I didn't really have time to nip outside into the freezing cold to watch the races, for every time a finish came along, so did the next course.

As soon as the last race finished however (for which my horse came in second in the sweepstake on our table), the disco music kicked in almost instantaneously. Mentally I nodded off - and almost literally at some points - the music was too loud for me to fall asleep. At other times I decided to step out into the cold to take a proper look round the racecourse, armed with a glass of red wine to fortify me - the ideal tonic with all the colds going around at the moment.

The GFM coach brought most of us back to Colchester at 12am (with deepest thanks to the member of the Great Leighs staff who found my missing baseball cap.) On the way back I could see most of Essex frosting over that night, yet the racetrack remained unharmed; we had to step over it to access the main enclosure. I never expected to get sand on my shoes tonight instead of frost!

Good Things: 16

"Rover" bus tickets.

As little as £2.20 on any bus anywhere in the local area on Sundays, and £1.60 in the evenings, any day of the week.