01 The second oldest in the world

The ground was not virgin. Before becoming a track, the open space was used as a military drill field, which is where its name comes from. That earlier use explains why there was a flat, clear surface of sufficient size in the very centre: it was already free of building.

What stands out is the continuity. Two hundred-odd years later, the track is still working in the same place and with the same purpose, with a racing season from late March to early December. Very few sports venues in the world can say the same without ever having moved.

02 One thousand two hundred and ninety-eight metres

The measurements are part of the interest. The oval is 1,298 metres round with a track width of between 12 and 14 metres, and is run right-handed. By modern racecourse standards, that is short and narrow: the bends are tight and the layout leaves little room to position yourself.

A track 1,298 metres round and fourteen wide was not designed for the modern sport: it was designed with the space available.

And that is exactly the point: the layout was not fitted to the available ground by sporting choice, but because the oval had to fit into the open space that already existed between the city and the mountain. The racecourse's geometry is a cast of the urban geography of 1812.

A view of the city at dusk from a hillside, the sky still dark blue and the lights already on: on the left, the harbour basin cuts inland forming an arm of water that reflects the orange lights of the quays, with cylindrical silos, cranes and a berthed ship; at the centre the office district groups together, with a dozen lit glass towers; around it and towards the foreground stretches a very dense urban fabric of low flat-roofed buildings, dotted with yellow lights; to the right of centre, a dark elongated patch of unlit grass abruptly interrupts that fabric; at the back, the coast recedes into gloom.
The city at night: the dark unlit patch, to the right of the business district, is the racecourse track.Peter Kuchar / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 3.0·CC BY-SA 3.0

03 A void nobody built on

Here is what is really worth knowing, and it is urban rather than sporting. Port Louis occupies a narrow band of flat ground between the sea and the Moka range. Buildable land is scarce by definition, and the city has grown by packing together and climbing the slopes.

In that context, keeping a grass oval more than a kilometre round in the centre, unbuilt, for two centuries, is a decision repeated thousands of times. Any other city under that pressure on land would have built over that void generations ago.

A view of the city from open ground on a rise, with intense blue sky filling the upper half of the frame: at the back, a continuous mountain range stretches from side to side with green slopes and rocky, sharply jagged crests, two pointed peaks standing out above the rest; at the foot of the range, the white housing of the city covers the valley and climbs the first rises, tightly packed and with hardly any gaps; in the middle ground there are industrial sheds, lamp standards and parked cars; in the foreground, an expanse of dry grass fenced by a brown-painted wooden rail.
Housing climbing the slopes with hardly a gap. That pressure on land is what makes the racecourse void exceptional.Z thomas / Wikimedia Commons / CC BY-SA 4.0·CC BY-SA 4.0

The infield is not wasted either. Inside the track there are mown lawns, young trees, a football pitch and parking areas. On non-race days it works as the centre's large open space, a function the city has not solved anywhere else.

04 How to see it

There are two ways to see it and both are worth doing. The first is from above: any of the rises around the centre puts the whole oval in the frame, with the city packed around it and the range behind. It is the only perspective from which the meaning of that void becomes clear at once.

The second is at track level, and there the calendar rules. The racing season runs from late March to early December, on weekend meetings, and on those days the enclosure fills up. Out of season the oval is empty and you can simply walk the perimeter.

A pedestrian crossing in a waterfront shopping precinct: a concrete walkway, empty in the foreground, runs between two low walls of dark stone masonry set with round blue glass oculi; on the left several tall slender palms grow in front of an arcaded building with awnings; on the right, a two-storey building with a colonnaded gallery and turquoise-green lattices, a red parasol open over a terrace; at the back, a white portico with a round arch and red-tiled roof frames the view, and beneath it a group of small, distant people gathers beside some coloured parasols; the sky blue with white clouds.
The redeveloped Caudan precinct, beside the harbour. It is a short walk from the racecourse, on the same flat band.Benoît Prieur / Wikimedia Commons / CC0·CC0 1.0

And there is a detail that rounds off the visit. From the edge of the oval you can see, in a single turn of the head, the glass towers of the business district, the low houses climbing the slope and the toothed summits of the range. It is the one point in the city where all three layers fit in one look.

Rate this article

Your vote helps prioritize what we edit next.

No votes yet
LM

Lucía Montes

Worth Knowing editor · Flowtravel

Lucía stops at what a place takes for granted and nobody explains.