Jeremy Clarke Jeremy Clarke

French gambling is a mystery to me

Would someone please help me place a bet on the Arc de Triomphe?

La Sorellina and Maurice Larraun win the Prix de l'Arc de Triomphe in October 1953 [Photo: Central Press/Stringer/Getty Images] 
issue 03 October 2020

Feeling oddly confident, clairvoyant even, I entered a bar to place a bet on Sunday’s Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe. I had researched the internet for advice on how to place a bet in France and I knew I wanted to bet on a couplé gagnant, that is to say make a prediction of the first two horses past the post. Feeling almost supernaturally confident, I thought I would follow up with a wilder bet called a trio ordre, adding a third horse from among the outsiders. Because my desire to bet large on a classic horse race was overwhelming, and my conviction that I would win grandiose, I think I was a bit off my head. Was this grandiosity perhaps a small manifestation of the vast irrational impulse that has apparently gripped the world?

As I passed through the door, I didn’t know whether I would be faced with a betting machine or a dedicated person sitting behind a betting counter.

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