There'll be some rugs going back on a few of these horses tonight, which, sadly, is a sign of autumn. We've had a succession of three lovely starts to the day (as seven photographs - taken four on Monday, two yesterday and one today - show) but the past couple of days it's quickly clouded over, with today the morning ending with us being drenched last lot, which wasn't much fun. Still, the rain was, I gather, even worse late Saturday afternoon - but I missed it, having achieved the rare feat of having gone to Ireland and found better weather than we were having back at home.
Mind you, Saturday was probably the only day of the summer about which one could say that; but while Newmarket was being lashed by torrential rain, thunder and lightning as the final meeting of the year on the July Course drew to a close, the Curragh was enjoying a rather pleasant evening. Which was lovely because that afternoon had seen the wedding in St Bridget's Church, Suncroft, of two of the nicest people, as well as two of the best jockeys, I know: Wayne Smith and Lisa Jones. And I consider myself honoured and very privileged to have been a guest.
You might remember Lisa riding in this country a decade or so ago, when, apprenticed to our neighbour Willie Musson, she was one of the best apprentices. She became I think only the third girl (after Emma O'Gorman and Alex Greaves) to outride her claim in Britain, which feat she completed memorably courtesy of a double on the final day of Glorious Goodwood one year, and her best season saw her finish, I think, third in the apprentices' title. She rode several winners for us and was worth her weight in gold, being a massive help as regards work-riding on any day that she wasn't race-riding.
Over and above which, Lisa was/is, as her industriousness suggests, just a thoroughly decent, helpful, kind and genuine person. She found things tougher once she'd lost her claim, went to ride in Macau (where she became one of the few female jockeys anywhere in the world to ride a Derby winner) and eventually became engaged, and now married, to Wayne Smith, who rides there for part of the year and in Dubai for the bulk of the UAE season. And, as I say, I was delighted to be present at the joyful celebration of their wedding.
What was particularly nice was that I had never met Wayne. From afar he'd seemed the perfect husband for Lisa, who really deserves a husband as nice as she is; and now that I've met him, I'm particularly happy to see them wed. Two things in particular impressed Wayne's decency on me. Firstly, when I arrived at the church, I was feeling rather lost, knowing very few people there. Almost immediately Wayne, who obviously had 101 things on his mind as he was about to get married and would have had much better things to do, came straight over to me to put me at my ease, extending his hand and offering the greeting, "Hello John. I'm Wayne. We're so pleased that you were able to come".
That action showed sensitivity to the comfort of his guests that went way beyond the call of duty, and at the end of the night (or, at least, the end of the night as far as I was concerned) I saw a similar example of his kindness and thoughtfulness. At around 11.30 I prepared to leave the reception. I offered my thanks and farewells to Lisa's family and then to Lisa, and asked the latter if she knew where Wayne was as I would have liked to thank him and bid him farewell too.
She didn't know where he was and, although I said not to bother him if he was tied up, she rang him to see where he was so that I could see him - and it transpired that he was standing out on the main road at the end of the drive, waiting to direct a taxi which had been ordered by one of the guests and whose driver couldn't find the place. While to a certain extent the host is the guests' prisoner and is responsible for the guests' welfare, I'd say that at 11.30 pm on the night of one's own wedding one would be fully entitled to let the guests sort out their own transport arrangements.
The fact that Wayne even at that stage was more concerned about his guests' enjoyment of the evening than his own tells one all one needs to know. So the nice thing is that, particularly now that I've met Wayne, as well as wishing them both a long and happy life together, I can say with confidence that that wish will come true.
This chapter has probably already been considerably longer than it should have been, but I'll just jot down a few other memorable moments from what can be regarded as my summer holiday, all 30 hours of it or however long it was.
Although I didn't know that many people at the wedding in advance, I know a lot more of them now, and two people whom I was particularly pleased to meet were two former champion jockeys (pictured here) one of whom can be regarded as one of the all-time greats: former champion jumps jockey Joe Byrne and 9-time champion Flat jockey Johnny Roe. His legend goes before him, and I was delighted when I happened to find myself sitting next to him in the church.
The following day I saw a similarly legendary figure, equine rather than human. With an hour or so spare before I needed to head back to the airport and with the weather being pleasant, I treated myself to a quick trip to the Irish National Stud, which is always a joy to visit. In their paddocks I saw one top-class stallion (Invincible Spirit) and three good ones (Big Bad Bob, Jeremy and Lord Shanakill) while in another paddock I saw four retired horses: Beef Or Salmon, Moscow Flyer, Tudor Loom (who must be a great companion as he isn't there as a high-achiever) and, treat of treats, the mighty Vintage Crop (pictured). Is it really coming up 19 years since I cheered him home, the first winner of the race trained in the northern hemisphere, in the Melbourne Cup from high in the stand at Flemington? How time flies.
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