By Saturday there was rather more wheeled traffic, but again nothing much, not by the standards of yesteryear. And a complete absence of posh cars with not a roller to be seen anywhere. In case the first station was, once again, Ye Olde King's Head, for a drop of their white. Didn't think to check on this occasion whether it still came from Majestic. Cab driver up to the Downs was Epsom born and bred, and being of an age with ourselves we were able to ruminate on the decline and fall of Derby Day. About how it was not what it used to be. He dropped us off opposite the entrance to the tunnel from where we quickly made it to the dip (illustrated) for the second station. Sausage sandwiches in fond memory of the sausages from the late lamented Porky White's. These ones from Manor Green Road, plain Cumberland (I don't approve of herbs, fruit or vegetables in my English sausages), were a very reasonable substitute. See reference 2.
Up past what now passes for the fair, with what used to be the fair site up at the top having been taken over by Surrey Police for their enclosure. St John had also taken quite a lot of land with three or flour enclosures dotted about the place. Through the main drag with all the stalls, passing a lot of what one presumed were travelling folk, out in their party clothes, complete with small children in their party clothes. We passed at least two fancily got up babies in prams, with one of the babies and one of the prams being very nicely done. In both cases, I was thanked very politely for my interest by the young ladies in question. About the only time one sees prams these days - with Boots telling me this morning that prams of this sort might set you back nearly £1,500, even with the online discount.
Onto the third station (gmaps 51.307051, -0.247651) to take a little red wine and admire the view. More discussion about how the Derby was not the occasion it used to be. I note in passing that they charge £40 to put your car on common land on Derby Day, on the one hand out of order - but on the other, not that unreasonable that the people putting on the races should not have to carry too many free-loaders like ourselves. Someone has to find all that prize money needed to make the day the racing day that it is.
Then across to the fourth station to watch a little action at the rails and so across the lines and back to the ranks of waiting buses at the top of Chalk Lane. Or at least, the ranks of waiting people, where we had to wait not more than a couple of minutes. Pleased to find that the bus which turned up accepted our free bus passes - one can't rely on that on buses from events such as this one.
We had been told that Golden Horn was the hot tip, but for which we would not get much of a price, the horse having being strongly backed; all those people who will back anything if it has Dettori on top. But that Hans Holbein would make a decent each way bet. As it turned out we backed nothing and Hans Holbein did do well in the middle of the race but - as so often seems to happen on this course with those who lead from the front - ran out of puff and came in seventh, leaving the Gosden couple to sweep the board, with a spectacular result from Dettori. I have been told that leading from the front is the thing in the US, with their more reliable dirt tracks, but it does not seem to be the thing here, only rarely bringing home the bacon.
Perhaps the 25th consecutive outing of this sort, if we are not disqualified by the distinctly downward trajectory of the associated consumption of beer & fags.
Illustration not bad, captures the atmosphere reasonably well, but greatly exaggerates the darkness of the clouds. Our last stand used to be behind where the street food outlets are now, underneath the helicopter.
Reference 1: http://psmv2.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/racing-lite.html.
Reference 2: http://www.masterbutchersepsom.co.uk/.
No comments:
Post a Comment