Horsing Around in Lambourn

As it is Derby day I think it is fitting to blog my recent foray into the world of horse racing. Pel & I are taking part in a cultural exchange: She is teaching me all about the ponies and I am teaching her all about F1.

The last time I was near a pony was probably Wordsley Carnival in 1996, when I went on a donkey ride. I was never one of those girls that obsessed over the pretty horses and so this whole world of horse riding has largely passed me by. But with the mantra of yes I am up for learning everything new I am embracing this new knowledge.

Pel has steadily been feeding me tid bits of information for the last year. Bless her heart, after Grandad died I was having problems sleeping so she stayed up for hours with me describing her dissertation on horse breeding and her love for Sheik Mohammed. And although her soliloquy did put me to sleep, I did take in some of it. So I arrived at Lambourn with a smidgen of understanding of what was going on.

Lambourn is a tiny village in Berkshire that is also known as Valley of the Racehorse and it is in a stunning part of the country. Every year the whole village has an open day that lets all us riff raff wander around their huge stables full of amazing thoroughbreds and race winners. To be honest it was quite nice just going around and being nosey. I actually knew who some of the horses were (shock horror).  We met Longest Run who won the Gold Cup earlier this year and I very almost got bit by Sir Alex Ferguson's horse-yet another awful claim to fame.

The best bit of the day though was the discovery of Horse Ball. Everybody needs to go see a horse ball match because it was really impressive. Sod polo, that's for the toffs, Basketball on horses is where the party is at. Possibly the funniest part of the match was when they swapped the regular players for tiny jockeys and they were to small to reach the ball. Bless them.

The most enlightening part of the day was definitely the jumping exhibition. I have always thought of horse racing as a rather elitist sport, but once I understood a little of what was going on it was like being let into a little club of genuinely nice and enthusiastic people. The commentators let the jokes and the mockery of the jockeys flow and the banter between the jumps was brilliant. I didn't feel like an outsider at all, but rather included and I laughed along with the crowd as Tony McCoy was roasted and poor Eddie Ahern took the brunt of the jokes about his horse Charlotte. There was no snobbery or elitism and definitely no sneering at my comments which marked me out as an absolute novice of all things ponies.