I'm Getting Old

All this driving is getting too much sometimes. I can recall the days when I would drive hundreds of miles a day, most days, with no ill effects.

Now though - it is a wholly different story.

Yesterday was a race meeting at Exeter, 198 miles each way from the concrete paradise that is Milton Keynes.

My beloved Tom Tom was set - yes beloved and this from someone who swore he would never, ever, have one!! The voice of the lovely Jane was, in the nicest possible way, telling me where to go. Everything started off OK, well until Oxford and the A34, where the traffic ground to a halt.

No problems, press her buttons and the delightful Jane obliges - if only everything in life were that simple - by finding me an alternate route - via Gloucester!!! In her defence it was only 12 miles longer and the arrival time was only 15 minutes later than the orginal estimate.

In truth the arrival time was too good and I reached the course two hours before the first race. At the larger courses it is quite easy to fill the time when you arrive that early, at Exeter it takes a maximum of ten minutes to explore everything, so it was a long two hours.

I was only at Exeter to see one race, the Haldon Gold Cup. Everyone was talking about the hot favourite Fair Along, however I wanted to take him on and I had already tipped up David Pipe's, Pablo Du Charmil to take the spoils. Once I saw Fair Along in the parade ring I was even more convinced he wouldn't win.

Exeter saw the biggest crowds of the season, there were so many journalists a second press room had to be opened.

Modesty prevents me from going into too much detail about the race, suffice to say Fair Along was not even placed, the Pipe stable were celebrating a good victory and your correspondent was even seen to be smiling. I even treated myself to a Devon Cream Tea in the restaurant - I know how to live.

One note to Exeter racecourse for future reference - please provide fruit scones in future, not boring plain ones.

Having travelled so far I decided to stay until all six races had been run.

Big mistake. The car park is in the centre of the course, which results in the following mathematical equation.

Biggest crowd of season + only one exit from car park + only one narrow access road = a long wait to get away (45 minutes to be precise, although not as bad as Aintree)

So the long trek home eventually began. Jane said I would be home by nine, a four hour journey.

Fed up with motorwars I decided to take the A303 route and not being the height of summer there were no caravans to delay the journey. I made such good time that by half seven I had reached Newbury and decided to have a food stop, as the benefits of the Devon tea had worn off.

The stop itself was nothing to write home about and within half an hour I was back on the road again. Even with the stop I would still be home by just after nine. Oh yes?

The dreaded A34 had one nasty trick left, initially clear, making good time to Oxford then flashing hazzard lights and stationary traffic!! Eventually a stream of blue flashing lights and the road completely closed.

Dear Jane, once again, found me an alternate route - through the centre of Oxford and driving through looking at all the young students I was wishing I was 30 years younger.

I eventually reached home just after ten o'clock, fourteen hours after setting off. I should have written up the report of the day for the web site - instead I had a cup of tea and was straight to bed, sleeping like a log.

Do I regret the long day? What a silly question - I loved it.

Saturday I'm back to the west country to do it all again. At least today and tomorrow is Huntingdon races, only a mere 40 minute drive.