Sprinting at a snail's pace

I was recently invited to attend a local senior school evening for Prep School Heads and was asked ahead (no pun intended) of the dinner to provide some information about myself.

My first reaction was to complain to the Almighty; my second thought was to wonder who the information was for; my third was to consider cancelling! In the end, I wrote a brief CV and sent it off.

I was tempted, however, in between my moan to the Almighty and my brief résumé, to have a bit of fun!

Now, my interests are many and varied but I do not have an unusual one which would make anybody sit up and take note. Nobody at the dinner is likely to knock people over in a rush to sit next to me because of some deviant interest in vintage toy cars, stamps, British Prime Ministers since Oliver Cromwell or the intricacies of jam making. Were I, however, to admit to having more than a passing interest in snail racing, and indeed to claim to be the leading owner in the UK of top flight racing snails of Burgundian stock, with pedigrees going back to the mid 1800s, there might be more than a tad of interest, and a line of potential guests keen to meet this eccentric stable owner. Curiosity can be a great motivator, especially if the alternative is listening to paint drying!

Therefore, I was tempted to mention more than a passing interest in “La course d'escargot”, which, for the non-francophones amongst you, has nothing to do with the French dining proclivities of consuming snails doused in garlic butter as a “hors d'oeuvres”! It is of course, the time-honoured tradition of racing snails.

Now, at first thought, the prospect of sitting down to watch a line of snails competing against each other to be the first to get to the end of the course (Ed...er, without being eaten?) does not immediately seem to be something that any sane person,or insane person for that matter, would choose to do as a hobby, let alone admit to it.

That is where you would be wrong. The subtleties of snail racing are to be appreciated and developed over a period of many decades. You see, a snail race can last for years, so watching the whole event from starter, sorry, start to finish is not a viable option, unless you really do find watching paint dry a more than passable way of spending a Sunday afternoon.

Many years ago, when I was at the peak of my career and was training gastropods for royalty and the occasional pop star, I entered one of my top sprinters into the Blue Riband event at Aintree. Once around the Grand National track is considered to be the supreme test of stamina and slime production for a snail.

That was back in 1992.

I have followed the race with interest, fascination and no little pride as “L'Escargot” romped into a commanding lead of about 3 centimetres, and by the end of the first week, was well over a metric yard ahead of his competitors, most of whom had drifted sideways or off. Some were cruelly crushed by marauding horses, shamelessly let loose upon the hallowed turf, and others were picked off by Thrushes, who felt that they were fair game, and that anything good enough for French diners was good enough for them, even without the garlic butter and the oven.

It is now 2009, a new Millennium has dawned and I am proud to report that “L'Escargot” is still in the race. In fact, he is in first position! What a lad! He is also in last position, which is not quite so strikingly impressive, but it is how you “spin” it that matters.

Last time I checked, L'Escargot” was 30 metres from the finish line and all things going well, and horse's hooves permitting, he/she will slime across the finish line some time between Christmas and New Year. Unless he/she stops.

The annals of history are about to be written! Snail racing is about to receive the best exposure and publicity it has ever experienced. Just imagine! Someone will be lucky enough to sit next to me at dinner tomorrow night and be the first to hear about it!