Oh What A Circus

This is a slightly modified version of an article I originally published last Thursday, which produced a curious reaction to say the least, more on that anon.

There is a song in the musical Evita which begins with the words,

Oh What A Circus,

Oh What A Show

In the show the lyrics refer to the reaction to the death of Eva Peron.

The words, however, equally apply to the brouhaha surrounding AP McCoy’s quest to reach 4,000 winners.

Another McCoy winner

Let me say from the outset there is probably no bigger admirer of McCoy and what he has achieved in his career than me.

Anyone who reads my reports will know they frequently include plaudits aplenty for McCoy and his ability to win with horses which by any sane measure should have lost.

He is a master of his profession, without equal and he is the greatest jump jockey and probably the greatest jockey ever.

Although, numerically, he is nowhere near the greatest in the world, many riders have ridden in excess of 4,000 winners and McCoy isn’t even half way to matching the 9,530 winners of Laffit Pincay but racing is incredibly parochial.

What has irked me is the media circus surrounding the build up.

Unsurprisingly Great British Racing has been orchestrating the coverage, after all they will try any gimmick to garner publicity for the sport, although I concede the McCoy 4,000 is probably one of the more blindingly obvious ones.

Who can forget the debacle that was The Filly Factor, where not even the best person won but very much the “right” person won as far as they were concerned – whatever did happen to Miss Moore’s commentating career?

Alastair Down is a far better wordsmith than I will ever be and his summation of the impact marketeers, accountants and their ilk have on the sport was summed up perfectly in his article about Future Champions Day.

This is an extract of what he wrote in the Racing Post,

“There is something Orwellian about the new order that chills. You only have to watch our rulers on the racecourse to be struck by the introspection of their ideology. They club together for warmth speaking only to those who swallow the new orthodoxy and never engaging anyone who dares point out that the Emperor's new clothes are kind of embarrassing because he ain't got nothing on.

“Accountants, peddlers of marketing spin and public relations' conjurors hold sway now. Knowledge of horseracing, insight based on experience and the long learning of centuries about the animal at the heart of the sport count for nothing - indeed, such things are perceived as being backward-looking and an obstacle to the great god, progress.”

It was many years ago that McCoy became the most winning UK / Ireland jockey, that was his big achievement.

What is so special about the 4,000^th win that sets it aside from any other – it’s just a random number that just happens to end in three zeros, that happens to fit in with some form of numerical OCD.

Very soon he will be the first UK / Ireland jockey to ride 4,010 winners – that has a zero on the end but I suspect it will not have the same ejaculatory response from racings acolytes.

Of course most of the racing and general media fall for the hyperbole, hook line and sinker – mainly because most of the racing media are so well house trained they do as they are told and the non-racing media gladly accept being spoon fed their copy. So we are greeted by the sight of hoards of journalists descending on courses which are ill equipped to cope with the influx.

Sat-navs must have been working overtime as many of the great and good of the British racing media had to visit courses they may have heard of in the dim and distant past but probably have never visited before and will probably never visit again. Welcome to the real world of cramped press rooms and curled up sandwiches.

Add in the snappers who will eat up all the wi-fi bandwidth and we have a recipe for disaster.

I found it highly ironic the roadshow ended up at Towcester, this is a course where the wi-fi can barely (indeed often doesn’t) cope with the four of us who usually attend their meetings.

Even if one chose not to follow the circus, ones inbox is inundated with a constant barrage of e-mails about the on-going saga. The most annoying one (which arrived three or four times a day in various forms) was the one from GBR explaining the process should McCoy do it the following day. There were two basic mails one for RUK and one for ATR courses with the only thing changing being the course name.

Moderation is something GBR seems to have trouble with. It’s all well and good publicising the sport and accentuating the positives and that is, of course, their raison d’être but constant bombardment of in-boxes is, in my view, counter productive and will result in alienation.

There was great mirth at Warwick on Wednesday afternoon as in the press room all our e-mail boxes pinged at the same time and sure enough it was the latest from GBR and the plans for Towcester.

I have been deliberately avoiding courses where McCoy has been pursuing his 4,000^th winner and I was accused of being in a minority in my disdain at the fuss – I would say amongst those who go and cover racing most days, as opposed to the glory boys who only show up at the big meetings, the feeling amongst the press was we all wanted to avoid those meetings like a plague.

You could see the depression of those who had been allocated meetings where McCoy was going to ride, countered by the delight of those who realised they were avoiding it.

Anyway it’s over now, McCoy has ridden winner number 4,000.

McCoy has been the greatest jump jockey in terms of ability and statistically for many years now, today was, in truth, just another day but a day which has been ridiculously hijacked and overhyped.

Undoubtedly it is good racing is appearing on the front pages of the newspapers for the right reasons, heavens above racing needs some positive news.

However I think the importance of it being front page news is being grossly inflated. As the old saying used to say “today’s front page news is tomorrow’s fish and chip wrapper.” (well it was in the pre Health and Safety days when our fish and chips used to be wrapped in old newspapers – and they tasted better then as well J )

Do the marketeers really and honestly think newcomers will come flocking through the gates because of McCoy’s 4,000^th?

Yes, racing has made the news pages, people may pay some passing interest but those with no interest in racing will probably react in the same way I do when there is news about football, in which I have no interest, i.e treat it as an irrelevance.

As I drove back from Kelso yesterday the big news story (I think it an irrelevant news story – certainly not bigger than the Typhoon) was BT paying £900m to show some European football tournaments. I was aware of the news but would I go to any football match because of it – of course not. I have no interest in the sport and I have little doubt non-racing fans feel exactly the same about the McCoy story.

Yes it’s a big news story for those who follow racing but a story of very limited interest to those who don’t, something those in the world of racing find difficult to accept.

Racing is an incredibly parochial sport and it has an inflated sense of its own self-importance in the wider world. Football and rugby are games that can be played by anyone who has the physical ability to do so. The nearest the great unwashed can get to racing is as a spectator or more likely as a gambler.

Just how many newcomers do GBR think will be attracted to the sport?

How would a newcomer have reacted had they gone to Warwick as their first meeting on Wednesday?

A horse breaks a leg and another has an horrific fall at the final flight in front of the stands in the opening race. A jockey is taken from the track on a spinal board in a later race and the final race is run in near darkness.   

Do you think they would be likely to return – it’s all well and good highlight the positive exceptions – how do they intend selling the reality?

Or how about a newcomer going to a Saturday meeting as a first time experience?

Too many Saturday meetings are now becoming no-go areas for genuine racing fans as hen and stag parties or groups simply out on the lash, become more fashionable.

Maybe these are the sort of people racing want to attract. After all it ticks the boxes for GBR as they can say there are more bums on seats (we have the numbers, sod the quality – see we’ve done a great job) and it certainly suits the tracks as alcohol is one of the biggest earners for the courses.

So let’s make it clear where I stand, although I’m probably wasting my time as most people see what they want to see not what is actually written – too many people’s brains cannot cope with more than a bite sized snippet.

• McCoys career is exceptional and what he has achieved in unprecedented in the UK and Ireland and is a good thing for racing.

• Racing appearing in the news bulletins and on the front pages for the right reasons is a good thing.

• However “racing” has an over inflated view of the significance outside its own insular world.

• There is such a thing as overkill and that can do more harm than good.

Finally let me turn to the reaction, or should I say crass overreaction, to my original article.

I concede I could have been more temperate in my phraseology that’s the danger of writing something topical in the heat of the moment.

However some of the reaction was frankly ludicrous and sometimes worrying.

Needless to say the most offensive responses came from those who chose to remain anonymous, frankly they don’t bother me as I have nothing but contempt for those cowards and they will soon crawl back under the stones from whence they came.

I have no particular problem with people criticising me, it’s like water off a ducks back, I’ve always been used to that.

I remember one fraught week in a previous job when I managed to upset some oversensitive fellow employees of the organisation I was working for, including a senior board member. I recall my boss saying to me “…..remember I don’t pay you to be popular or liked. When you stop ruffling feathers I’ll worry you aren’t doing your job properly.”

What really annoys me is what I consider unjustified personal attacks.

A couple of people have said I write nothing positive about racing. That is completely untrue and not borne out by the facts.

In an average week I write between 10,000 and 15,000 words about racing, the overwhelming amount of which is either neutral or positive.

The one time I am negative is when I write my opinion piece, about 1,500 words every couple of weeks, which I also reproduce as my blog.

The whole idea of those articles it to be critical and, yes, provoke discussion.

Someone from the press room actually had the temerity to tell me I had no right to bite the hand that feeds me. That is complete, utter, unmitigated bollocks.

That single, asinine, comment underlines precisely what is wrong with racing.

With a couple of notable exceptions the racing media are not prepared to be critical of what they see. Even worse they’re guilty of total hypocrisy because they will privately criticise the way the sport is run but will not (or are not allowed to by their editors) say anything detrimental publicly.

So I will continue to “bite the hand that feeds me” when I feel it is necessary and I make no apology for doing so.

Contrary to popular belief I actually loved and cared about the sport, if I didn’t care I wouldn’t bother wasting my time saying anything.

For those who don’t like what I right, tough, perhaps it’s a case of the truth hurting. If I’m “constantly criticising” and “predictable” then why bother reading what I write?

If you disagree then great-  let’s have a debate, I love a good debate.Racing, after all is all about opinion.

I’m always happy to debate what I write, I’m also open minded enough to view the other side and yes, even be convinced to change my mind.

I only have two “ground rules” as it were. I won’t respond to anonymous criticism and I won’t respond to unjustified personal criticism – I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

Press Room Life - Part Two

In my last blog I wrote about life in the press room, this time, as promised, it’s time to look at some of the characters who reside therein.

Catterick Press Room

I suppose the first thing I should point out to the uninitiated is there are two distinct sets of press rooms, southern and northern, with a slight overlap in the midlands.

Although, by nature of where I live, I spend more time in the southern press rooms, I’m one of a small band who ends up working in both sets and I can report there is a distinct north / south divide.

On the face of it the northern press rooms are far more blunt and down to earth but I really enjoy working in them as you tend to know where you stand and there is very little hypocrisy.

Let me give you an example.

I will always recall the first time I set foot in a northern press room, I can even recall the date, it was Monday 15^th, September, 2008 at Musselburgh.

I had barely set foot in the press room when I was greeted with a welcoming “who the f**k are you?”

Let’s just say a few “pleasantries” were then exchanged but after that I’ve always been made most welcome in the northern press rooms and, without exception, have found everyone helpful and friendly – even the gentleman who first greeted me.

In a southern press room when a new person enters there is a general “who’s he?” whispering (I say “who’s he” because the press rooms tend to be over 95% male dominated) and if nobody knows then someone will be quietly delegated to chat to the individual and find out who they are and report back.

As in any workplace there are many different types in the press room and it is invariable you end up getting on better with some more than others.

The commentators tend to be the friendliest bunch and I have managed to get on well with almost all of them.

Richard Hoiles

It’s probably unfair to single out individuals but I have to say the “big two” Simon Holt and Richard Hoiles are undoubtedly two of the most pleasant, genuine, likeable guys you could want to meet in any walk of life.

Some are a surprise. Ian Bartlett has been criticised in some quarters for not showing much personality in his commentaries or TV appearances – yet he has the most amazing dry, irreverent sense of humour – if he’s calling I know it will be a cheery fun afternoon in the press room.

There are two excellent young callers in the shape of David Fitzgerald and Gareth Topham.

It’s great watching young Gareth as he still has the (and I mean it in a nice way) innocence and exuberance of youth and hasn’t yet developed the cynicism which comes with age.  

David is a very assured caller and presenter but away from the microphone he is very quiet and reserved, almost shy.

 I hope he won’t mind me telling this story but a few weeks ago he called at Ascot for the first time and he seemed so nervous beforehand, as if he had the worries of the world on his shoulders – I almost wanted to put a paternal arm around his shoulder to comfort him and tell him it will all be OK – as it was the concerns were unfounded as he called to his usual high standard.

It goes without saying the press rooms at the quieter meetings are a world apart from the press rooms at the big meetings.

Fakenham press room

At the smaller meetings you are most likely to find the Racing Post reporter, the RP / Raceform race reader and maybe the occasional local reporter or the Press Association. It’s very unlikely you will see anyone from the national press.

The one exception probably being Alan Lee from The Times who does, in fairness, attend many of the smaller local meetings all around the country.

The trouble with too many of the journos from the nationals is you only see them at the big meetings and when they do deign to put in an appearance, a couple of them strut around the press room as if they own the place – the old “do you know who I am” attitude.

There is one, who works for a national, who is always having problems connecting their laptop but then demands the IT person at the course drops everything to sort the problem out, berating them if they do not respond immediately. Of course 99% of the time the problem isn’t anything to do with the infrastructure at the course – it’s down to their crap laptop. Having worked in IT front line support myself this sort are “heart sink” callers.

Then there is the vexed issue of seats – some correspondents have “reserved” seats in press rooms, which they don’t bother using at 90% of the meetings but should they consent to grace a meeting with their presence then woe betide anyone who may encroach into their precious space.

Of course seats don’t have to be specifically reserved for there to be a problem. I recall my first visit to Lingfield, not the biggest press room. I thought I would sit out of the way, in the back row in the corner. I set up my laptop and was typing away only to find one of the doyens of the press room standing over me enquiring “are you going to be long?” before continuing, “I’ve been coming here 25 year and have always sat in that seat.”

I felt like saying to him “well a change of scenery will do you good” but I just moved over one seat and ‘normality’ was resumed.

Tommo

I suppose I cannot talk about life in the press room without mentioning one of the Marmite ® characters, Derek Thompson.

Now Tommo gets a lot of stick, especially in the press rooms. I am no respecter of reputations, I take people as I find them and all the many times I’ve met Tommo I have found him a thoroughly likable, personable and pleasant person.

Yes he has an image and he works at bolstering that image. I admit I tease him about his reputation but he takes it in the spirit in which it was intended and he can and does laugh at himself.

My belief is a great deal of the dislike for him in the press room simply comes down to envy.

He does his job well (well maybe not always in the commentating), he can work a crowd and at a family fun day or a mid-week meeting he makes a great compare.

For TV work he is a producer’s delight – if they want someone to fill for 45 seconds then Tommo will fill for exactly 45 seconds, an art most broadcasters are incapable of doing.

Those who criticise him most vociferously are those who, frankly, are not good enough to do his job and make the money he makes and they know it.

There is one journo in particular who will snipe about Tommo at every opportunity, yet oddly enough when Tommo is in the room he is perfectly pleasant to him.

You know the sort of person I mean, there is one in almost every workplace.

The person who has an opinion on everything, who feels the need to share that opinion with all and sundry, yet actually says nothing.  

The chap who would be your archetypical pub bore.

As I said he attacks Tommo at every opportunity, yet he himself is almost an anonymous  non-entity, a perfect embodiment of the Peter Principle.

He slags off colleagues seemingly oblivious to the fact that what he says will invariably get back to those he has bad mouthed.

Yet, like most of his ilk, he is a contradiction. He is one of those characters who will happily dish out the abusive comments, yet when given back to him he behaves like a spoiled brat and throws his toys out of the pram.

Machiavelli

Then we have the “smiling assassin” the one with the ingratiating smile, outwardly always polite and the perfect gentleman.

Behind the façade he takes bitchiness to a level which would out-bitch the bitchiest of women.

He is another who thinks his Machiavellian scheming will not get back to his “victims” yet he plays a dangerous game as he himself has a cupboard full of skeletons.

I will, however,  miss being in the press room.

I’ll miss the hard working journos who are being asked to do increasingly more work with tighter deadlines.

I’ll miss the irreverent banter of the snappers.

I’ll miss watching racing in the company of knowledgeable race readers, who love the sport and from whom I have learned so much.

The individual I will miss most of all though is Lee McKenzie, interestingly another our aforementioned  bad-mouthing  “friend” has taken a strong dislike to, then again there are more he dislikes than likes, so I suppose actually being liked by him would make you a select minority.  

Lee is the sort of guy who will do anything for anyone and has been a great help and encouragement to me professionally and, at times, personally over the last six years. He is one press room colleague I still hope to remain in touch with.

Press Room Life - Part One

If I could have a pound for every time someone has said to me “you have a cushy life covering horse racing” I would have been able to “retire” years ago.

If only it was always cushy.

Yes I appreciate the accredited press do have some decent perks like getting free admission and getting to see some of the best racing action there is, sometimes from the best seat in the house, although not always.

There are plenty, far too many, accredited journalists who only come out of the woodwork at the big meetings, who wouldn’t be seen dead at a lesser track on a wet Tuesday afternoon – but that’s a story for another day.

The biggest surprise, when I was first accredited, was to discover we get fed at the racecourses. I use the term ‘fed’ loosely as the quality varies greatly.

I’ve always found it odd that the press should be fed by the courses. It’s the first time I’ve worked anywhere and been supplied with a free lunch on a regular basis. Why shouldn’t racing journalists pay for their lunch like anybody else?

I suppose I could be accused of hypocrisy in criticising the free lunches on the basis I generally avail myself of them but if it’s handed to you on a plate, as it were, you take it don’t you?

I personally would not complain if the free lunches were withdrawn, I have always expected to pay my way.

Having said that there are even occasions where even the free food is so dire I will still go out and buy my lunch elsewhere.

Most courses offer variations on sandwiches, some exceptionally good, some so bad you are risking life, limb and digestive system.

Semi-thawed, previously frozen sandwiches are not unknown.

However the “prize” for the most amazing food must go to Leicester a couple of years ago. The lady who makes the sandwiches was “with child” and was clearly having food cravings as the contents of the sandwiches were clearly reflective of her cravings and contained every possible surreal combination you could think of.

At the end of every meeting the number of sandwiches remaining was exactly the same as when we started. Luckily at Leicester there is an excellent Aberdeen Angus Hot beef stall which many of us still use in preference to the sandwiches.

Some courses give vouchers to use in the course cafés which are handy and others provide some decent hot meals.

Of the so called smaller courses by far the best is Southwell, whose chef produces some really wholesome, tasty hot food and the food always varies.

Top for feeding  has to be Ascot where the food on offer would be quite acceptable at any decent restaurant.

The best ever there was at a Shergar Cup meeting, where the chef produced a hot buffet with food items representing the nations of all the various competing riders – it was worth going for the food alone. 

If I’m going to be slightly churlish about the Ascot food then it relates to the same menu being available each meeting, so by day five of Royal Ascot, the menu becomes, dare I say, a tad boring, to the extent I’m even going out to purchase the overpriced offerings on sale to the paying punters.

Food is only one aspect of working at the course, the other is the press rooms themselves and, boy do they vary, from the sublime to the absolute ridiculous.

Ascot has both. The main press room is one of the best in the country, decent workspace, plenty of televisions and a viewing balcony with excellent viewing of the racecourse. By contrast the media centre under the grandstand, where us lesser mortals are sent during the Royal meeting, would give the black hole of Calcutta a run for its money. Windowless and cramped it has TV screens but no means of recording the racing, it is really a depressing place to work.

You would think press rooms would be provided so the press can actually watch the racing, don’t you believe it.

The Aintree media centre is behind the stands with no viewing of the racing although a viewing area is provided on the roof of the County Stand.  Bangor and  Bath have small rooms with no viewing of the racing. Beverley had a larger room but again no viewing of the racing. Whilst at Carlisle the press are consigned to an area behind the parade ring.

Like Carlisle, Ffos Las have the press as far away from the action as possible, similarly Hamilton.

Musselburgh operate a similar dungeon system to the Ascot media centre with a windowless room in the bowels of the grandstand, whilst Perth is another with a press room behind the stands along with Stratford, a press room that is so insecure we have to chain out laptops to our desks and try and ensure the press room is never left unattended.   

Wetherby is another press room where you cannot see the racing along with Yarmouth.

On the other hand some press rooms are sublime.

Take Epsom, for example, the room itself is basic but its situation, on the roof of the Queens Stand affords one of the best views in racing.

When it is peeing with rain the press rooms at Newcastle, Market Rasen and, to a lesser extent, Doncaster  are a delight as they a) overlook their respective parade rings and b) you can view the racing  without having to go outside into the wet.

The most “infamous” press room has to be Fakenham’s. Located at the top of the steppings it runs along about 1/3 of the stand so it looks quite big, however its front wall is no more than three feet from the back wall, so if you sit down nobody can move past you. Intimate is the kindest description I have heard to describe it. Although you can, at least, see the racing.

One course worthy of a special mention is Catterick, whose press room provides an individual television at every seat.

I can’t talk about press rooms without touching on the most controversial point of all – wi-fi.

Gone are the days when journalists used to phone copy through to copy takers back in the office. 

Now coverage is increasingly web-oriented and that needs instant access, something many courses seeming have failed to embrace.

I’ve lost count of the number of courses who have picked up a cheap router from their local computer store, thinking the same router that works well at home will also suit the needs of a racecourse.    

Some courses, especially those part of Arc and Jockey Club and courses like Ascot have professional IT teams and provided a generally robust IT infrastructure.

With some of the smaller courses it is woeful. I won’t name it but at one course the 17 year old nephew of the managing director is in charge of IT provision.

At others the press have to share bandwith with the in-running backers so every time an “away” meeting goes off the press access slows to a crawl.

Some of the more computer savvy users of the press room now turn up with, at least, a 3G dongle as back-up in case the wi-fi does not work. I turn up with four alternative means of getting on-line but even I can get defeated on occasion.

A few times I have helped the Racing Post reporters or race readers gain access to submit their copy, depending on who the individual is. I have to admit with a couple of them I happily leave them to flounder.

There was a case last week when the “Live Reporter” was having major issues getting online and connected and he was on the phone to the RP tech support guys trying to resolve the issue. It was a problem, with my IT background,  I could have fixed in less than five minutes and had it been any other of the reporters I would have offered to help  – in this case I have to admit it was thoroughly enjoyable watching him get more and more frustrated as the afternoon progressed.  

 
Much more on the press room "characters" in part two.

An ImPerthect trip

I live in Milton Keynes – I admit it isn’t something I’m proud of and certainly not something I would sing about from the rooftops.

However it does have one advantage – its location. Every UK racecourse is, theoretically, a day trip away, although some do involve flying.

For me the furthest flung racecourse is Perth, a neat little 406 miles each way by car. Unsurprisingly Perth is my least visited racecourse. It is also the most jinxed in terms of trying to visit.

My first couple of visits to Perth were straightforward as they coincided, accidentally and purely coincidentally of course, with holiday trips to Scotland.

It’s not so bad to get to the course when you’re actually starting off from the same country.  

Other visits have been flying ones, literally. A flight from Luton or Stansted to Edinburgh, then a hire car to the course, but even that is not straightforward.

In September 2010 I was off to Perth again. The forecast was for a showery previous evening then a sunny day. I arrived at Stansted Airport about 06:00 and it was a lovely crisp sunny morning.

The flight was on time and arriving at Edinburgh it was a delightful sunny day. So it was off to collect the hire car and northbound to Perth.

I had time to kill so I stopped at Kinross Services on the M90 for a relaxing “full Scottish” breakfast and I decided to fire up my laptop to see if there were any non-runners.

Indeed there were non-runners, every single one of them!!

The sunshine was deceptive as, overnight, the course had encountered a shower, a shower so heavy the course became waterlogged and the meeting was called off, whilst I was obliviously waiting to board my flight. 

A quick check with the airline showed the next flight to London wasn’t until 17:30 – at least they switched me to that flight at no extra charge.

They day didn’t turn out too badly in the end – I did some exploring and ended up (by design) in Arbroath around lunchtime, where I treated myself to a hot Arbroath Smokie, straight from the kiln –more than compensating for the missed racing.

It was, however, still an expensive days sightseeing.

That was my last attempt to go racing at Perth, until last week.

Regular readers will know I’m packing in the racing from the end of this year and I’m doing a farewell tour of the more far flung courses. Of course that had to include Perth.

I had a dilemma as I have done a few northern trips in the past few weeks  and, frankly, I didn’t fancy the drive. Flying was not an option as I’m currently  “banned” from flying by the medics.

That left limited options so I opted for rail travel.

Travelling up I booked an advance ticket for just £28, just over six hours from Milton Keynes with one change of train in Glasgow.

Coming back I toyed with catching the sleeper train but that would have entailed leaving Perth at 23:21 and getting thrown off the sleeper to change trains at Crewe at the ungodly hour of 05:36. I really didn’t fancy paying £200 just for a couple of hours sleep.

So it was a matter of coming back the next day. The cheapest train journey back next day was £68.

As well as writing about horse racing I am also a travel writer – something I very much prefer.

So I decided to combine the trip with some travel writing and I decided to come home catching a National Express coach, so I could write about the experience.

The trip was, indeed, an experience.

The rail journey was relatively painless, even my reserved seat was free when boarding at Milton Keynes – something of a minor miracle.

There was a minor stir on the train to Perth as a lady boarded the train at Stirling thinking it was going to Glasgow and then proceeded to have an Oscar winning hysterical hissy-fit when she realised the train was going in the opposite direction and the next  station was Perth.

On arriving at Perth I almost made a bee-line to the taxi rank for the four mile trip to the course.
Unfortunately I didn’t as I opted, instead, to catch the special bus service to the course.

For some perverse reason, race day busses depart from neither the railway station nor the adjacent bus station – which would seem logical – but from somewhere the other side of the city centre.

With some help from friendly locals I found the bus stop and was bemused to see the bus was actually an old Routemaster.

Now the romantic in me loves the old Routemasters with their iconic platforms for jumping on and off. However in the 21^st century they are not really practical, as they seem to have a top speed of 20 mph and coupled with Perth’s gridlocked roads it made for a very long, frustrating, 25 minute four mile journey to the course.

I arrived at the course with just 50 minutes to the opening race.

One of the perks of being an accredited journalist is we have a Pass card to gain entry to the course, usually via the Owners and Trainers entrance, an easy, painless process – normally.

There was a massive queue at the Owners and Trainers entrance and it took almost 15 minutes to get in.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, although I had forgotten just how poor viewing is at Perth.

The overnight stay was fine although I do wonder if Perth has some ideas above its station.

Perth regained city status in 2012 and it seems to have celebrated by charging “city prices” in its restaurants, to the extent it makes London look cheap.

How can any restaurant justify charging £18.50 for a dish of spaghetti carbonara? Or £22 for a plain 8oz sirloin steak?  

Well now for the journey home. As I mentioned earlier I also do travel writing and I thought something about coach travel would be different.

Apart from trips to and from airports it’s over 40 years since I last travelled by coach.

Like the journey north it was in two parts – Perth to Glasgow then Glasgow to Milton Keynes.

The first shock came when boarding the coach to Glasgow when the driver told me I couldn’t take my bag on board. It wasn’t a huge bag – a pilot style overnight bag in fact. The hour and twenty minute journey was uneventful and the large windows in the coach allowed for some stunning views of the scenery.

When it was time to change coaches at Glasgow I made sure I retrieved my tablet from my bag so I could at least use the Kindle if the trip was too dire.

I also, wisely as it happened, stocked up with water and sweets before boarding for the 7¾ hour drive to Milton Keynes.

I’m not going to compromise my travel write-up but suffice to say it was an interesting trip – I think it can be best summed up as, like a long haul flight but without the trolly-dolly’s.

Yes the scenery driving through the Lake District was stunning but once south of Lancaster it was boring, boring and thank goodness for the kindle to retain my sanity.

Using the on-board toilet facilities as the coach switched lanes at 70 mph was a technique I failed to master.

The biggest surprise though was the journey from Glasgow to London was with a single driver which meant 45 minute statutory stops for him to have a break – have you ever tried to kill 45 minutes at a motorway service area?

I can tell you two things following that trip.

Firstly I will never, ever, be going on a coach holiday and secondly,  I will only be racing at Perth again if I already happen to be in the vicinity on a day they are racing.

Oh yes, I almost forgot, the coach was also late getting into Milton Keynes!!