Romford. Coral. The Dogs. Thirteen races, thirteen opportunities to lose money, taken, I think, on eleven. A good night out, fun, possibly rather strange to take a camera, but it only got doused in Stella once, and seemed none the worse for it. I doubt I was surreptitious, pints of lager don't bring out the ninja in me, but some worthy memories of Hawky's stag do. Forgive the pretentious black and white, colours do strange things under lights, these work better. Stereotypes abounded, and whilst there were flat caps everywhere, I was disappointed not to to find jellied eels for sale anywhere.