British racing is seeking to rebrand itself. It has appointed a manager, Rod Street, and an agency to head up a “detailed investigation into all aspects of how we present the sport”. Though hardly original, this is at least an admission from headquarters that things can and should be done better, a conclusion that would have hardened rapidly with first-hand observation of the past few days in Melbourne.

Among the principal concerns to be addressed by the rebranding exercise is that far too few Britons relate to racing as anything but a betting medium. It is a profound problem, for while gambling helps, albeit reluctantly, to sustain the finances of the sport, it does nothing to broaden its image.

Characters, and their stories, are the lifeblood of public appeal. Australia has recognised this, which is why racing has been in the front, middle and back of every newspaper for a week, and why thousands lined the closed-off shopping streets of Melbourne yesterday for an eve of Cup parade so impressive that Aidan O'Brien's wife, Anne-Marie, filmed every second like a starstruck tourist.

O'Brien himself, later to be introduced to the crowds as “the greatest racehorse trainer in the world”, sounded awed. “It's hard to believe the people here are so enthusiastic about racing,” he said. “The way it's promoted here is special and when you have this kind of atmosphere, you feel privileged to be a part of it.”

Typical diplomacy? No, just telling it how it is. Johnny Murtagh has ridden all around the world and was equally struck. Luca Cumani suggests the buzz and build-up is one reason why he has targeted the Cup so ardently. “I'm sure there are lessons that can be learnt back home,” he said. “But that's not my job.”

For those whose job it has become, Melbourne in Cup week is a template. True, it has certain elements that cannot easily be reproduced - such as a public holiday and a race that is a brand all of its own - but there is much else here to make the British authorities ponder the comparative insularity of its product. One example is that Australia's racing museum is sited in Melbourne's busiest square, while Britain's is hidden away beside the Jockey Club rooms in Newmarket.

It will surprise some that Melbourne Cup day is not the only show in town. Indeed, it is not even the biggest in terms of attendance. Derby day, a feast of group racing with none of the ten events worth less than Aus$250,000 (about £105,000), regularly attracts more and a staggering crowd of 129,000 two years ago induced an all-ticket capping system.

So there were a mere 117,000 present for the Derby last Saturday. Many were still arriving after the fourth race but that is all part of the organisational plan. The four key days of the spring carnival at Flemington are all ten-race marathons, with the first off at 10.20am and the last after 5pm.

The majority arrive on trains, which leave the city every four minutes for the 15-minute journey to Flemington and continue to shuttle racegoers back until 9pm. They are packed but the buzz of anticipation overcomes any discomfort. On Saturday, a woman in the crush of my carriage was balancing a tray of fairy cakes for her picnic.

Flemington runs slickly, welcomingly, one reason why so many with only a passing knowledge of racing mark out this week in their diary. But they have also been lured by the blanket coverage on television, radio and in newspapers, by the facility to buy race tickets at stations or in shops and by the fact that few people in Melbourne seem to talk of anything else.

Shops throughout the city convert their window displays to racing themes. Yesterday, just before the parade, the hat and accessory areas of the two biggest department stores were seething with women scrapping over the remaining stock.

This is a culture that has grown over generations, which is equally true of the celebrities who clamour to be part of it and the expectation shared by all trainers and jockeys here that they will speak lucidly and often to promote their sport.

None of this will come easily in Britain, where the sport is in thrall to bookmakers and many of its practitioners to a code of secrecy. Reforming such entrenched habits is a daunting task but one that needs attempting.