Three ageless horsemen of the antipodes

We always like to tell ourselves that, even though the Craven Meeting is usually run in wintry conditions, summer has generally arrived by the time of the Guineas. And I'm confident that three days hence all will be rosy, even though we've now had just about 24 hours of heavy rain and the temperature has fallen markedly. We now have gallons of standing water in the stable and the field, but it'll be alright on the weekend, I'm sure. Tomorrow at Folkestone could be another matter, though, and wet ground will be a further complicating factor in the chances of three unseasoned horses - but, whatever the conditions, it will just be nice to get our campaign up and sort of running.

During a pretty bleak morning on the Heath - although a break in the rain meant that it was more or less dry for my two lots, although poor Hugh and Martha got soaked later on - one ray of sunshine was seeing Tony Culhane back in the saddle, riding out for William Haggas. As regards his disciplinary hiccups, Tony has only had himself to blame, but his succession of bad injuries in recent years really has been very unfortunate, particularly the accident in the middle of last year when, through no fault of his own, his mount swerved through the rails at Wolverhampton to put him on the sidelines from which, I presume, he soon to resume. As well as being a first-rate jockey, he's a really likeable man, so I was genuinely pleased to see him back in action and wish him the best of fortune for his return to competitive action.

From one good jockey to another even more admirable, word reaches me from Down Under that 'Nifty' Neville Wilson, the king of Victoria's Western District for as long as most people can remember, rode the winner of the Wangoom Handicap at Warrnambool today. The best race in the Western District and the Flat highlight of the Warrnambool Carnival, this prestigious sprint had, amazingly, never been won by the 61-year-old legend, who will no doubt milk his herd of dairy cows tomorrow morning with an extra spring in his step before heading off to the races. By comparison, the jockey of the day in New South Wales is a mere youngster, the excellent Robert Thompson having ridden his first Classic winner at the age of 49 when partnering Heavenly Glow to victory in today's AJC Oaks at Randwick. The victory puts him on the 3293 winner mark, only 29 behind the all-time Australian record set by the late Jack Thompson, and it was lovely to pick up his enthusiasm in the internet press reports as he described the success as "by far the best win of my career": when a man who rode his first winner 35 years ago and who has ridden 3292 more since then can say that, you know it was a magic moment. Good on 'im.

And now from two ageless Australian horsemen to a third, I'm pleased to report that Richard Sims, whom some of you may know, was among the crowd at Warrnambool today. Richard has apparently been the subject of some discussion among his Winning Post colleagues recently, as I discovered when I found myself (unintentionally, I'm sure) on the recipients' list of an email about Richard, sent by Winning Post's editor Tony Kneebone to its compositor, John Barker. Richard has evidently caused some head-scratching, as Tony's words make clear: "Richard, MY Richard, OUR Richard? - What has he done? This talk of ads, Greeks, brahmas, Father Joe, me, Doxa Lodge, me again - how could Richard be anything except what WE have made him: a directionless Australian middle-class revolutionary, a permanent dissident, a dabbler, a dreamer, a habitual rejector; a ruthless, shiftless, philandering, wasted semi-creative failure, too clever not to demolish an argument, too mulish to settle for a flawed one?" This paints a rather disturbing picture of the man, don't you think? But doesn't it also illustrate Tony's superb use of our language? Change the odd word and you could find yourself with a passage of the beautiful prose of John Le Carre, another of whose excellent novels I am currently enjoying as a change of tack after ripping through another tremendous read, 'Iron Rose' by Peter Temple.

And lastly, to try to bring this chapter back (back?) to something to approaching normality, word has reached me today that Justin Wadham, husband of Lucy, is standing for election to the ROA Council. Not that my opinion will be of interest to many, but it is that he would be the perfect candidate for such a position and, if anyone were to ask my opinion about how to cast his vote, my suggestion would be to vote for Justin.

Like a hurricane at the Gold Coast - and Folkestone?

Saturday dawned warm and sunny and, the icing on the cake, with a winner. The second last race from the Gold Coast was the 6.54 am by our time, and it contained the mare whom I co-own, Somewhere Safer, looking to follow up her win in lesser grade over course and distance earlier in the month. Seeing the race obviously wasn't an option, but this time I managed to work out how to get the call on the internet; I usually look at the Queensland TAB website, and for some reason its TAB radio gives off no sound on this computer, but I had the bright idea of logging on to the Victorian TAB site and, lo and behold, we had sound. I didn't realise it until the dying seconds of the race, but Somewhere Safer's form had received a considerable boost earlier in the afternoon with Dalzar, second to her last time, winning a Listed race in town at Eagle Farm - and so easily was Somewhere Safer winning that the commentator had time to slip this into his commentary in the final furlong as she shot clear. Now he tells us! In fact, her form had received a secondary boost the same afternoon with the horse who'd run fourth to them winning earlier in the afternoon at the Gold Coast, so her profile is now getting a rock-solid look to it. I don't know when or where she'll be trying for her fourth win, and third in a row, but we can be assured that Michael will find a suitable opportunity to give her every chance, and that he'll have her in similarly perfect condition. She's doing so well, and it's just such a thrill to be involved with her.

We've now got to try to keep our end up in this hemisphere, and Filemot, Imperial Decree and Polychrome will all be trying to do their bit at Folkestone on Thursday. They all look well and, I hope, reasonably fit, so fingers crossed we'll enjoy the outing. But before then we have a race to watch: Ben Bhraggie's TWO-YEAR-OLD half-sister Fazbee, trained by Paul D'Arcy, makes her debut in the first race at Windsor tonight, which will be worth watching. The capitalization of TWO-YEAR-OLD comes, of course, from the fact that, as Ben is aged four and probably not within six months of his debut, it comes as something of a shock to think that his half-sister can be a precocious juvenile. But there's nowt as strange as horses - and we still don't, of course, know that she IS a precocious juvenile: she might just be a juvenile who is running early in the season. They aren't necessarily the same thing, but Paul is a good trainer so the chances are that, if he's running her this early, she is naturally forward.

It's been fun watching other relatives of our inmates, and Serpentaria, Anis Etoile's half-sister, put up another excellent performance over hurdles at Punchestown on Saturday, finishing a very brave second on her first start in Listed company. She has two wins and a second from three starts over jumps, so obviously that gives us plenty of scope for dreaming long-term. In the short-term, I've had to put Anis' debut back again as she's just got a splint rumbling away currently, but you expect these temporary hold-ups with youngsters, and when you've got a particularly nice youngster the wait is easy to endure. Certainly we're getting plenty of pedigree pointers to her future, as Henry Cecil ran two Helissio three-year-old debutantes on Saturday, and both ran well. One of them (ex Kyle Rhea) we saw as a yearling because I'd marked Helissio down as a good stallion whose stock was likely to be affordable, so we looked at them all: there were three in the October Sale, of which Di Haine bought the colt (who got loose on the Severals last week!) and, of the two fillies, I bought the one which I markedly preferred, and Henry Cecil bought the filly. (I'm sure he'd have bought Anis if he'd wanted to, as it certainly wasn't a case of my outbidding him, but he'd trained the dam of the other one, hence his interest in her). So it was pleasing to see that filly finish third on debut (albeit in a desperately weak 5-runner race at Wolverhampton, in which two of the runners had already demonstrated that they have virtually no ability); and it was also nice to see Henry's other Helissio, who was bred by Rupert Channells' family and who hasn't been through a sale, run a very nice race first time out at Leicester on Saturday, finishing fifth to Tartan Bearer in what looked a very good maiden. I hope having his protege running so well will have livened Rupert up a bit: I happened upon him asleep in his car in Waitrose car park the other day (he'd sent his octogenarian friend John Bell in to the shop to buy the groceries). He'll be even more awake now because the other Warren Place resident which he bred, an Olden Times filly who is leased out to Diamond Racing, ran a good third in a maiden at Lingfield this afternoon.

But stars of the weekend had to be the 11-year-olds Monkerhostin and Royal Auclair who fought out the finish to the Whitbread. The former was topping off a CV which includes running a neck second to Kicking King in the King George, beating Kauto Star and Ashley Brook in the Haldon Gold Cup, winning a Tripleprint Gold Cup, finishing second to Our Vic in one Paddy Power Gold Cup and third to Celestial Gold in another, winning a County Hurdle, and finishing fourth to Kauto Star last season in both the King George and the Gold Cup. That's wonderful - and what a lovely horse in second: Royal Auclair won at the Cheltenham Festival over fences in the Cathcart SIX YEARS ago (when trained by Martin Pipe), was beaten a short-head in the Whitbread four years ago after finishing third in the National Hunt Handicap Chase at that year's Festival, was placed in both the Gold Cup (fourth) and the Grand National (second) three years ago after finishing third in that season's Hennessy - and now he's fought out the finish of the Whitbread with old Monkerhostin. Quinellae don't come any more special than that. The only downer was that lovely old Bewley's Berry pulled up midrace clearly extremely lame, a very sad and worrying post-script to his really brave fifth in the Grand National, but I'm so relieved to hear that he lives to prepare for what, fingers crossed, will be a long and happy retirement. After running over the National fences four times running and finishing in the money on three of them, he's really deserved one.

Welcome guests

We've been having real sunshine and showers. That's fine really, because it'll make the grass grow and, while the showers aren't very nice, there's warmth in the sun while it is out. And the real bonus is that the rain has been timing itself satisfactorily, because we've had Stewart and Barbara Leadley-Brown staying for one night and, mixed in with some heavy downpours, we had a perfect sunny evening yesterday and a glorious start to today. Stewart is very familiar with Newmarket, albeit not so familiar with its more recent changes having only enjoyed two brief visits to the town since emigrating to the States in 1979, but this was Barbara's first time here, so it was particularly good that we were able to show her the town and the Heath in its full glory. After sheltering from the rain in the early afternoon yesterday, we ventured outside just before 4pm, started with an inspection of the horses here before packing ourselves in the car for the tour - and found it was nearly four hours later that we rolled back into the yard at dusk. It's good having visitors, because the danger is that we can take our beautiful and very special surroundings for granted, but having visitors gives one the incentive to take the time to savour them. Warm sunny spring days are about as good as it gets for seeing the countryside, and everything looked superb yesterday. We were in and out of the car like yo-yos, alighting every few minutes to stroll along the Devil's Dyke, let ourselves into the racecourses to nose around the buildings and inspect the two tracks, walk over various stretches of Heath or admire various views. And then this morning Emma took Stewart and Barbara up to Side Hill to watch Aisling cantering Lady Suffragette around the all-weather in company with Imperial Decree, Brief Goodbye and Polychrome, before Barbara took Lady S on her second ride of the morning, enjoying a walk and trot around the Heath with Anis Etoile and I relishing our roles as tour guides. Even though the rain duly arrived later in the morning, the crucial part of the day was lovely, and if our guests have enjoyed their visit as much as I have, they'll have had a lovely time.

The rain also held off for Great Leighs' opening day on Sunday, which was a pleasure to attend, especially after having been lucky enough to have a gallop around the track on trials' day aboard Brief. Anyone who read the Racing Post's coverage of the fixture will have gathered that, the unfinishedness of much of the public facilities notwithstanding, everyone has given Britain's newest course a big thumbs-up, and there's not much more that I need to add to that. John Holmes has invested everything he has into making a success of this project and, while he'll obviously benefit if and when things work out, so will the rest of us benefit too, even though we've invested nothing in its creation, so it behoves us all to wish him every success in his venture and to salute and thank him for his efforts.

One other thing that has been nice has been the dialogue in the comments section of this blog. I didn't realise what a good catalyst for reminiscence Frank Morby's name would prove to be. I have it in my head that he ended up in somewhere like Kenya, but I could be wrong. I'm pretty sure I remember watching him ride a winner for Lord Howard, trained by Peter Walwyn, at Ayr in probably 1977 on what would have been one of my first visits to a Flat race-meeting (my earlier days out would have been to Kelso); I'd probably have been able to confirm (or contradict) this memory via Lord Howard's scrap-books. I particularly enjoyed the train of recollection which took us to Stockbridge, a town whose racing history has always seemed rather magical to me, not least because the town itself, leaving aside its racing links, is such a special, unspoiled place. The stories which I'd previously heard of Vernon Cross' stable had come from Fred McKenna - I know that he's called Frank, but he'd come for some reason to be known as Fred by the time I knew him, which was when he was working as travelling head lad for Peter Bailey in the yard in which Seamus Mullins now trains near Amesbury - and I used to enjoy picking his brains for his tales, not least concerning his Triumph Hurdle-winning mount Royal Epic. So please keep the recollections coming. Does Ken Cunningham-Brown train somewhere around there? Is he in a historically famous yard?

Craven week reflections

Our day at Newmarket was lovely. The sun shone, God was in His heaven, and it was easy to believe that Leslie was up there with Him too, looking down on us. So many of the former Plantation Stud hands who worked under him were present, along with a really good crowd of people whose lives he'd enriched in other capacities, and it was a very special occasion. Kirsten Rausing had been able to arrange a very good, large box on the fourth floor of the main stand, and that was a perfect meeting place for people to come to and go from throughout the afternoon. An added bonus was that the box contained, in addition to many nice people, Lord Howard's scrap books, in which he had assembled photographs of all his winners, with hand-written notes alongside them all. It was a real privilege to be able to leaf through them and be prompted into trips down memory lane by pictures of some of the trainers and jockeys of yesteryear who trained and rode his horses, such as Ernie Weymes, Frank Morby, Richard Pitman, John Francome, Tony Kimberley, Clive Eccleston, Taffy Thomas and Alan Bond, and by the hand-written notes alongside beautiful photographs of such as Lanzarote, Kris and Catalpa.

Our best turned-out duties were exciting. We selected the Barry Hills-trained Spinning Lucy, who looked lovely. There were actually several whom one could have selected, but for me Spinning Lucy was the one: presented in a minimalist fashion (you'd have guessed that that remark would apply to the one who appealed most to me!) she just looked in wonderful condition as she sauntered round the ring as content as could be. In one sense it is awkward because so many of the things which can affect one's judgement are beyond the lad's control - for instance there was one horse whom we discarded straightaway because her paddock sheet had slipped back from the recognised correct position towards her rear, but that is something which is the fault of the man who saddled her, ie the trainer, and over which the lad has no control - and one could say that a horse being relaxed and unruffled, as opposed to edgy and sweaty, is out of the lad's control. To a large extent this is true, because it is up to the trainer to ensure that the horse enjoys racing and approaches a race in a calm state of mind, but at the same time there are some lads who are natural horsemen and some who aren't, and I'd say that when a horse walks around the parade ring in a calm and content manner that is a compliment to the lad as well as to the trainer because, in addition to having been taught by the life which the trainer has arranged for her to enjoy racing, she obviously has trust in the lad and feels safe in his company. And this lovely Spinning Lucy quite clearly felt very happy to be walking alongside her lad, and to me he was a very deserving winner - and none of my co-judges disagreed. She duly ran well, but not as well as the really impressive winner Infallible, who won with ears pricked in the style of a filly who will run very well in the 1,000 Guineas. It was lovely that Leslie's race should have been won by a really good horse, and her owner/breeder Mrs Thompson must have been very proud as she received from Ruth Evita's Nell Gwyn Stakes trophy, which Lady Howard de Walden had very kindly and very fittingly given as the prize for this race.

I had a little chuckle to myself during our selection process. One of my longest-standing friends, Roy Fowler, is now travelling head lad to Marcus Tregonning, who had a runner in the race. When I saw Roy walk into the parade ring I went over to say G'day, but afterwards I thought to myself that it might then be slightly awkward to award his stable's representative the prize: fortunately she was actually one who didn't figure on any of the judges' short-lists, so that got us off having to worry about charges of rigging the contest.

Another old friend, albeit one of not nearly such long standing, into whom I was very pleased to bump this week was Ray O'Brien, an Irish jump jockey who lives in France. He is currently serving a four-day suspension, which he used to give himself a short holiday, coming to Newmarket for three days during sale week when there would be sure to be a lot of his Irish friends in town. He called into the stable this morning to say G'day and it was really good to see him. He'll be back in Lamorlaye by now, ready for his three booked rides at Auteuil on Sunday. Going to the races at Auteuil is something I'm very keen to do before too long, so if we manage that at some stage this year perhaps the next time I see him will be in his adopted homeland.

Our most immediate trip to the races will be to Great Leighs on Sunday, which has finally been given the go-ahead to stage its first (private) meeting. As the public facilities are so unfinished, the great god the Health and Safety Executive has yet to pass it fit to be open to the public, so the only way they can race there currently is to have it as a private function by invitation only. I'm so pleased that we are invitees, and I'm really looking forward to being present at this historic occasion. After that, our next trip to the races should be to Folkestone on 1st May, where we are currently planning to have three runners: Polychrome, Imperial Decree and Filemot. That will be a day to look forward to.

Lastly, before I head for the bath, I'll just indulge myself with a few Breeze-up Sale reflections. We headed there yesterday evening for a couple of hours nosing around, definitely as spectators rather than participants, and Tony Fordham came along too to enjoy the evening. It was very interesting, and again reinforced in my mind that it's probably the last type of sale at which I'd wish to buy. The prices were, by and large, impossible to rationalize. I know that if one were frightened of losing money, one would never buy a horse: but there is the world of difference between buying a horse and knowing that one has a fair chance of seeing the horse's value drop by a four-figure sum over the next few years, and knowing that one has a huge chance of seeing his value drop by a six-figure sum in the first year. Horse after horse was going through for one, two, three or four hundred thousand, without having any obvious claims to being of Stakes class. There were horses being sold that one knew that, if by some miracle they were to win a Group race this year, they would fetch less at the end-of-year sales as a Group winner than they fetched as unraced yet jarred up youngsters yesterday. Madness, sheer madness.

The horse we were most interested in seeing was Emma O'Gorman's filly by Invincible Spirit ex Elba (pictured), and thus a half-sister to one horse whom I bought and trained (Desiree) and a niece to another (Seaside). She's actually a three-parts sister to Desiree (Desiree being by Desert Story, and Desert Story and Invincible Spirit both being sons of Green Desert - with a further, academic, similarity being that Desert Story and Invincible Spirit are both out of mares who finished second in an Oaks, if one is happy to describe the Prix de Diane as 'the French Oaks' - which I'm not, preferring to describe it as the Prix de Diane). This filly was very nice and, although at 150,000 gns she fetched a lot more than I expected, I believe that she will do well for her new owner Malih Al Basti. I certainly hope so, because I met him afterwards and found him to be an extremely nice, knowledgeable and enthusiastic man - so fingers crossed she can bear his colours as creditably and bravely as did his lovely filly Nasheej, who beat Confidential Lady in the 2005 Sweet Solera Stakes and went on to win the May Hill Stakes and the Fred Darling Stakes, and to run third to Speciosa in the 1,000 Guineas and to Nannina in the Coronation Stakes. He tells me that she is now in foal to Street Cry, so that should be a lovely foal for him to look forward to.

I have compiled a short list, drawn up from the few horses which we saw sold, of horses which I think will prove to be very bad buys indeed, and another of horses which I think will do well and will come to be regarded as, relatively anyway, well bought. I don't think it would be fair to the purchasers of the horses on the first list to make that public - particularly if the people were buying the horses on other people's behalf - but included among the horses which I thought might prove satisfactory purchases is a filly by Acclamation ex Finicia, who was sold by one of the few people from whom one could buy with maximum confidence (Emma O'Gorman is also in this elite group), namely Con Marnane of Bansha House Stud. I'm going to keep a look out for this filly and will be very pleased if she does indeed do well, and I'm also going to be on the look-out for a colt by Dr Fong ex Fairy Queen whom Mark Johnston bought for 20,000 gns; he too could prove a good buy. I should restrict my observations to that, lest I get myself into hot water, but I might also add that, on the very slender evidence of the few lots which I saw yesterday, I'd rather buy a Breeze-up horse from a European than an American consignor; and, if I were a Breeze-up horse, I'd rather be prepared by a European than an American consignor.

Racecourses, new and old

Anthony's sighting of Greatest Piggott must have made quite an impression on him, because on the way to Great Leighs on Sunday he morning he asked, "Will the Greatest Jockey Ever be there?". I had to disappoint him, but it was a lovely day despite that inevitable omission, and Anthony was able to get over the disappointment by passing the time of day with a couple of other Classic-winning jockeys, as a photograph which might accompany this chapter shows. That, though, perhaps wasn't his main highlight, because the two star attractions for him appeared to be the food and the opportunity to meet "The Man With The Microphone" (Robert Cooper). Robert is one of my abiding memories of the day too: as you'll see if you catch the feature on At The Races, he spoke enthuasiastically about the project, but the really nice thing was that he was equally enthused off camera. That was the lovely thing about going to the trials day, that everyone came away really positive about the course's future, convinced that it is going to be a real asset to British racing, a place we shall all enjoy.

The highlight of the day for me, though, had to be the opportunity to ride Brief in the trial. I took my crash helmet and body protector as a fall-back, in case I had to ride him because of not being able to find anyone there to do the job. However, that turned out not to be a concern, because there was such a good atmosphere there that it was plain that anyone would have pitched in to do anything to help anyone. Of the eight jockeys present, the obvious one to put on him was his regular jockey Micky Fenton, whom I duly lined up to do so: he was riding in an earlier trial for Gay Kelleway, but it would be feasible for him to ride Brief afterwards. I was thinking that it would be nice to ride him myself, but basically - as I was assuming that they would be trials in the Australasian or Asian sense of the word, ie betting-free races, albeit not under real maximum pressure - I thought it wouldn't be fair on the horse to go round carrying a lot more weight than his rivals. However, it wasn't really like that - John Ryan's horse went around on his own, which indicates that the horses really could do as much or as little as the trainers wished - as became clear when, having ridden the horse up to the parade ring because it was easier than leading him, I saw that the "trials" really weren't as pressured as I'd anticipated. So when I saw the motley crew of three that Brief was up against, I thought, "Ah, why not? I'll ride him myself". So I just shouted across to Micky that he could stand down, and duly enjoyed the thrill of riding in what my Walter Mitty-like mind was able to convince itself was a ten-furlong race - and winning it!

The only shame was that, in retrospect, we should have taken more horses. I only took Brief because he was the only horse that I thought could have a trial inserted into his preparations for the forthcoming season and have those preparations enhanced rather than hindered. Knowing what I know now - that the trials weren't really trials as I understand the word - I'd have taken Anis Etoile, Jill Dawson and Imperial Decree down and let them have an easy gallop around the track on the bridle, which would have done them, particularly Anis, good. It was rather surprising that the trials weren't run as trials, because it means, presumably, that the timing, stalls (the batch of horses which went a mile jumped out of stalls, but none of the ones who went the other distances) and photo-finish mechanisms haven't been tested in simulated-race conditions. But that won't be a problem - and fingers crossed everything will go smoothly at the opening private meeting (as the public facilities are still very unfinished there will be no public access) this Sunday. We've been invited and I'm really looking forward to attending. Basically you know that everything is going to go well: after so many delays, it isn't going to open until it is sufficiently ready. The Jockey Club inspectorate have been keeping a close eye on things, and Richard Linley, Nicky Carlisle and Tony Goodhew were ubiquitous on Sunday, checking everything really thoroughly - but what was nice was that they were checking everything in a really positive and helpful way, so that it was quite clear that they are very much on-side with the project, and just keen to make sure that things go really, really well. From my point of view, it has just been a privilege to have been tenuously involved from the early stages in a project which is going to be a big part of and a big boon to British racing.

From a new racecourse to an old one, we're heading up to the Rowley Mile this afternoon for the Leslie Harrison Memorial Nell Gwyn Stakes. This will be an emotional afternoon, but a very special one, and a lovely way of remembering Leslie and the huge contribution he made to most aspects of racing and breeding in Newmarket over the past few decades. Kirsten Rausing organised the fund to have a race run in his memory, and it is wonderful that it is, and will be for two more years, the Nell Gwyn Stakes: having a race at the Craven Meeting containing some of the best fillies in the land is very appropriate for the memory of such a bloodstock connoisseur. I remember a Henry Cecil-trained filly named Evita winning the Nell Gwyn Stakes in the late '70s in Lord Howard de Walden's colours - I think under Joe Mercer - which made her nearly favourite for the 1,000 Guineas (which she didn't win) so Leslie was responsible for at least one Nell Gwyn Stakes winner. Leslie's widow Ruth has said that Camilla Millbank, Jamie Trotter, Emma and I are to pick the best turned out filly in the race, which is lovely - and, as you can imagine, the thought of my picking a best turned out is causing quite a lot of amusement! You can assume that, if I have much say in it, the winner of the award won't be plaited and won't be wearing a sheet (one of my hobby horses is that I don't think that horses should be allowed to wear sheets in the racecourse parade ring, unless it is very wet, because it does rather undermine the point of having them on parade if they are allowed to parade masked, as it were).

So that's what we have lined up this arvo. I'd better go and get myself organised.

Greatest Piggott - and second greatest Dittman

Today has been a very pleasant day. We were very well stocked with riders this morning, and I took the excuse to give myself a morning on the ground (pretending to be a proper trainer!). This was actually very timely, because we have Anthony staying for a long weekend, so it was nice to take him up to the Heath on foot a couple of times to watch the horses go about their work and to watch the world go by. And we did watch quite a decent amount of (this tiny section of) the world go by. Our first trip to the Heath was to racecourse side, where we watched Imperial Decree and Polychrome have a gentle gallop (ridden by Desna and Gemma respectively) over five furlongs on the Cambridge Road all-weather. Emma took some nice photographs of this pair, and then I, at my sticky-beak best, suggested we stroll over to watch Luca's horses gallop Across the Flat, which was very interesting and provided another series of photo-opportunities.

The second sortie was to Side Hill, where Anthony, Steve McCormick and myself stood to watch Lady Suffragette (Gemma), Brief Goodbye (Jamie), Anis Etoile (Suze) and Filemot (Martha) enjoy a pleasant canter on the grass, with my taking the camera this time because Emma and Panto were accompanying Hugh and Ethics Girl on a canter up Warren Hill at the same time. There were, as you would expect on a bright spring Saturday morning, plenty of spectators on the Heath, and the one we were most excited to see was the one whom I pointed out to Anthony with the description, "That man was the greatest jockey the world has ever known". Anthony's very good at remembering things he's told, but I always like to check up on what he's taken on board; so half an hour later I asked him if he could remember the name of the jockey we'd seen, and the reply was 'Greatest Piggott'. While this wasn't completely correct, it probably hit the nail on the head.

What made a really nice morning even more special was an event which happened during it but elsewhere, and this actually follows on quite nicely from our sighting of Greatest Piggott. If there was a competitor in recent history to Lester's title of The Greatest, it was probably The Enforcer, L. (Mick) Dittman. Anyway, Somewhere Safer, the four-year-old Postponed mare whom Michael Tidmarsh trains at Deagon in Queensland and whom I part-own, was running at 4.55 pm today at the Gold Coast, which was 7.55 am here. She'd been ridden last time by her track-work rider A. Nicholls (no, not our one - this one's called Adam) but sadly he couldn't do the weight this time, so Michael booked L. Dittman to ride. This, of course, was not THE (retired) L. Dittman, but was L. Dittman, son of L. Dittman. Yesterday evening I was chuckling to myself about how exciting it would be to have our horse ridden to victory by L. Dittman - the year I spent in Australia was roughly the time when The Enforcer was at his peak, so he's a god to me - although I didn't really consider it likely because, really well though the filly had run last time, it was hard to be confident with her having drawn barrier 15. This would obviously make things hard for horse and hoop alike, however good the hoop might be. However, everything fell into place like a dream: there were EIGHT scratchings after pre-race rain (even though the track only ended up being rated dead) and the filly jumped out of barrier eight - and won in a photo assisted by what I'm told was a very good ride by Luke Dittman. So what a wonderful addition to the morning that was - fantastic! She's a wonderful filly, trained by a master horseman who's the nicest guy to boot, and it's just such a joy to be involved with her.

After a great morning, what better than a pleasant afternoon? The recipe for a pleasant afternoon which we chose was to head to Thriplow, which some may know is Daffodil City for one weekend a year, when this small and idyllic Cambridgeshire village has an open day (well, two days to be exact) to allow the world to admire its bountiful daffodil crop. Of course, it never really works out like that: last year the really cold spring meant that few of the daffodils were open when the appointed weekend arrived, while this year we had such an easy latter part of the winter that the majority of the daffodils had already died by this weekend. Still, it's a beautiful village and it was a beautiful spring afternoon - and Thriplow with only a minority of its daffodils still flourishing still has more daffodils in evidence than you'd see just about any day anywhere else. Suze (see above - rode Anis this morning) lives there, as does our former inmate Bilkie, whose idyllic new life (as a promising show-jumper) we disturbed briefly. (Having just heard the terribly sad news that another of our former inmates, dear little By Storm, was killed in a fall in a hurdle race at Market Rasen last Sunday, it was very timely to see evidence of another one having really fallen on his feet). So that was a very pleasant afternoon, the icing on the cake being provided by Suze at the end of it, when afternoon tea in her house contained the best flapjacks I've ever eaten. The Open Village thing was very good, and would be very useful for anyone suffering from concussion who couldn't remember where he was: a few minutes spent in Thriplow this afternoon would have made it instantly clear that he was in England. Even down to having Morris dancers. And vintage tractors which Anthony the tractor fanatic loved. All that was missing was Inspector Barnaby from Midsomer Murders. And Alan Partridge, who would have hated it, but who should have been booked by his agent to attend as the celebrity guest. And Richard Sims, who would have loved it, who would probably have enrolled in a Morris dancing course, and whom Suze would have found very, very hard to get rid of.

Tonight I'll have to set the video on ATR so we can see if Monsam, a Danehill Dancer gelding which Richard part-bred and part-owns, can follow in Somewhere Safer's footsteps by saluting the judge at Tatura (Vic). Watching that will be the first item on tomorrow's agenda, after which all roads (ie M11 and A120) will lead to Great Leighs, where Brief Goodbye will be assisting in the required trials which, fingers crossed, will precede the track's imminent and long-awaited opening. Fingers crossed we'll have an easier day than Gemma and her fellow London marathoners will endure - good luck to them.

Winners at Aintree, Southwell and elsewhere

We've had a few false starts, but I'm sticking to my claim that spring's arriving. Snow showers on Sunday morning were setback - far more elsewhere than here, as the photograph in the Racing Post of the snow-covered Erridge point-to-point course in Surrey testified - which was a shock in April, and the frosts are still sharp, but fortunately sunny days are here again. So it should warm up soon - and might in a few days get back to being as warm as it was before the most recent reappearance of winter. It was lovely when I was walking through the wood on the top of Warren Hill this morning on Polly, the icing on the cake being provided by a very good sighting of a woodpecker.

I'm sure it was very cold at Aintree, but the temperature in the house was fine as we watched it on the television, and very enjoyable it was too. I was delighted to cheer home Our Vic on the Thursday - not only because he's a horse I've always liked and admired and because I am always pleased to see David Pipe and Timmy Murphy do well, but also because it is nice to be proved right: although I couldn't have said with confidence what would beat him, I just expected Kauto Star not to win this race after his (what looked to my eyes to be an) over-the-top performance at Cheltenham - and I was equally pleased to cheer home Comply Or Die for the same Pipe/Murphy/David Johnson/Old Vic/blinkers team. I'm pleased to say that I did back the National winner, but that wasn't a particularly great achievement because I also had lesser bets on two losers in the same race, Bewleys Berry (well, I had to!) and Simon.

David Pipe obviously has to take the training honours of the past week, but on a lower profile level and closer to home there are a few other names who deserve to be mentioned in dispatches. Team Morris keep firing in the winners at Southwell, Ben having ridden one last week (his record is now three wins, all on very ordinary horses, from eight rides) and the same horse having saluted again under Neil Callan yesterday. Added to which, two other wins yesterday deserve salutations, because two local trainers, Pat Leech and Michael Squance, both trained their first winners. P.Leech is best known as a jump jockey of the '80s (in Ireland, of Ballinacurra Lad fame, not to be confused with P.Leach in England at roughly the same time, of Bootlaces and Baron Blakeney fame) but he is now one of the trainers currently at Meddler Stud. The trainers there tend to be changed often, but at the moment I think it just he and Giles Bravery. Previously he had been riding out for such as the late David Cosgrove and Geoff Huffer, for whom he was a regular morning partner of the grey French-bred Grand National horse Royal Atalza, who is now a point-to-pointer with our feed man Stephen March. I was really pleased to read that Pat has trained a winner, and ditto for Michael Squance (which rhymes with Ponce, and not with Dance - on which subject, how odd was it to hear Luke Harvey keep pronoucing the horse Jonjo Milczarek has just ridden into second place at Towcester, Once, as if Once is Ponce with the P removed? And he even continued to do so after John Hunt had called the horse what I would regard as correctly through the race). Anyone who remembers seeing a nice handicapper by Primo Dominie called Premier Baron racing might have seen Michael, because, having bought the horse out of Neil Graham's stable - I think on the suggestion of Mick Murphy - he looked after him for the rest of his career, most of which was spent in Phil McEntee's stable (during part of which the horse was resident here, because Phil was in the stables currently occupied by Dave Morris in the early days of his training career). Premier Baron was owned by Miss T. J. Fitzgerald, who is Michael's wife/partner (I think they are married, even though her name would suggest otherwise), and their winner yesterday is similarly owned. Michael, who I think is a market-trader by profession, is a really nice guy who treats his horses as if they are kings. He's been blessed with one big advantage in life, which is that he's never been afraid to ask for advice or suggestions, and I'd guess that he'd make a good job of training horses. He has begun training with no publicity whatsoever, but I presume that he is training in Michael Oseman's yard on Hamilton Hill, because last year Michael (O) told me that he'd been approached by Michael (S) about renting some stabling, and asked me if I knew anything about him; to which I was very pleased to provide a very favourable reference, passing on the opinion that he would be a very straightforward, honest man to do business with. And now he's trained a winner - and I think that's a lovely result.

On a much, much sadder note, it was a shock to read yesterday bad news of another ex-Huffer employee, with Mick Miller seemingly in a critical condition in Addenbrookes after suffering first a brain haemorrhage and then septicemia and MRSA. Mick's as nice a man as you'd ever find, and for such a man to be in such a bad way in just his mid 50s is very, very sad. He hasn't looked well for a while, but it was great to see him enjoying life over the last three or four years in his role helping Geoff Huffer: it really rejuvenated him and, whatever Geoff's faults, the loyalty he has shown to his long-time staff (Mick used to be his jockey in the first of his many training incarnations, in I'd guess the late '70s) is tremendously praise-worthy. All we can do now is pray that Mick will live to enjoy Geoff's friendship again.

Spring is in the air

We had a very pleasing start to our season yesterday when Polly ran at Folkestone, our first Turf Flat runner of the year. I think that would be our sixth runner all told: she'd run once on the all-weather, Run From Nun had run three times on the all-weather, and My Obsession had run once over hurdles. I think that's the lot - apologies if I've overlooked anyone. It'll be a blank year if all our runners do what Polly did - finish fifth - but a good year if they all do what she did - run very well. For the majority of horses, winning a weight-for-age maiden is beyond their capabilities, but they still have to run in three of them before they are eligible to run in races for horses of their own class; so all one can hope for is that they run well and genuinely when they do run in these maidens, and Polly certainly did that yesterday. She's a dear little filly, very straightforward and honest, so let's hope that we can now place her to win a race at some point later in the season. If she always tries as hard as she did yesterday, when she galloped dourly to the line on very taxing ground, that shouldn't be an unrealistic assignment.

The trip to Folkestone had two other pleasures. One was my first meeting with the part-owner in whose colours Polly now runs, James Daly, and the other was seeing Tom Townsend. I'd been confident from our telephone conversations that I'd find James good company, and so it proved; so fingers crossed he, Alix and I can all find racing this filly together a pleasurable and rewarding experience. But the highlight of the day had to be seeing Tom. He'd been very ill over the winter, nearly dying, and that's left his mark on him as he's clearly lost weight, but the really nice thing is that he's definitely on the way back: he has a really good, healthy colour in his cheeks and his trademark smile is firmly in place, so fingers crossed yesterday will prove to be the first of many times that I pass the time of day with him on racecourses this season as he travels the country in his role accompanying Stuart Williams' horses to the races.

The other highlight of being at Folkestone, a very nice course, yesterday was the fact that we were at the races in pleasant weather. It was a warm, sunny day, albeit rather breezy (and the very soft ground was a reminder of how wet it has been up until very recently) so, with the sights of daffodils on the roadside intermittently throughout the journey and of lambs in the field as one turns into the racecourse, it was easy to savour the joy of springtime. We knew it was springtime too this morning as we rode over to Racecourse Side. Gemma, Jamie, Desna and myself had just walked across Hamilton Road on Jill, Brief, Imperial Decree and Belle Annie, prior to those four horses all galloping very satisfactorily on the Cambridge Road all-weather, when we passed a group of pedestrians in earnest discussion: Henry Cecil, Jane McKeown, Jimmy Quinn, Michael Marshall (previously best known as a good apprentice with Ian Balding a few years ago, but now Henry's assistant), Ted Durcan (well-tanned after a winter in Dubai), Tom Queally and Rupert Chennelles (who appeared to have appointed himself to the task of annoying Henry for the morning). Even more than lambs and daffodils, that was a sign that spring is in the air.