Every once in a while I like to forget about business and concentrate on something completely unrelated to work. Every March around 220,000 other people agree with me and head to Cheltenham for four days of unrivalled jump racing action. So it was with more than a little anticipation and a whole barrel full of excitement that I put aside all thoughts of wooden rocking horses and awoke yesterday morning ready for a day at the races.
For most race goers, a day at the Cheltenham Festival usually starts hundreds of miles away with a champagne breakfast at a local hostelry. And so it was with our intrepid band of village racing fans and pundits. We all convened at a very early hour for a good old fashioned fry up, complemented somewhat incongruously by a glass or two of buck’s fizz. The table was abuzz with gossip and titbits, wild speculation and brave (or foolish depending on your point of view) statements about which horse might be good enough to lower the colours of the favourite and reigning champion in the big race.
This
Having boarded our sixteen seat executive minibus (lots of legroom and plenty of space to spread out our race cards and newspapers) we spent the next few hours on country lanes and motorways until we joined the inevitable and extremely frustrating line of traffic that had formed agonisingly close to Prestbury Park. Racing fans dread arriving late for the first race and we were cutting it very fine. The banter was reduced to a murmur as we began to fear missing the famous roar that greets the opening race of the festival. Thankfully we were able to squeeze in through the huge queues and soon settled in for a fine afternoon in Gloucestershire.
Anyone who has enjoyed a day’s racing will be familiar with the many characters that add colour to the experience and Cheltenham certainly has its fair share of this colour. Amongst the 55,000 people in attendance yesterday were people of all ages (children through to grandparents), large groups of smiling and rowdy lads, quiet family groups, single visitors who just love horses, many groups from cities, towns and villages throughout Britain and also thousands of visitors from over the Irish Sea. I love the way all these different groups of people are united in their enthusiasm for racing and their love of a good time. Believe me; they were all having a good time. The bars, restaurants, hospitality tents, grandstands and betting rings were all packed out. In between the races, bands played loud and rousing music as old friends caught up over a Guinness or cup of tea. An afternoon in the sunshine amongst thousands of smiling faces was just the ticket after a few weeks of hard work in the office. When we finally trooped home in the pitch dark late last night, our minibus was quiet save for the sound of one or two of our party enjoying a nap and no doubt dreaming of leading a victorious horse into the winner’s enclosure at Cheltenham. A quiet end to a perfect day.
