A day at the races!

So, Sophie was off to London this morning, and Keith and I were going to the races at Market Rasen. We left home at 10.30, and we were very bemused to see people queuing at all the petrol stations on the way, to get fuel. There has been panic buying because of the shortage of drivers delivering to the petrol stations, and some garages have been closed as they've run out. We are living in a mad world at the moment... Tomorrow, Sophie can't get a train back to Northampton because of striking workers, so we will have to pick her up from Milton Keynes instead.

We dropped her off, and on the way to the M1, tried to get hold of a Racing Post and some cash. We stopped at one garage on the A45 and they had no diesel, not that we needed any. We had over half a tank, but I knew we would need some for tomorrow, so it was a bit of a worry.

The weather today has been very overcast and grey with thick lumpy clouds. But it was muggy as well! Next week is set to become more Autumnal with temperatures dipping below the average. I have to say I'm pleased!

We followed Google maps to Market Rasen, travelling on the M1 and then the A46. We've found with Sat Navs in the past, that they have a fetish for narrow country roads, and Google Maps was no exception. A few miles from the racecourse she directed us onto a deserted narrow road that ran through flat fields, and I wondered where on earth she was taking us!

It turned out that there had been slow traffic on the A46 so this was a way around it! We continued on, and then just before we arrived, she sent us through a housing estate! When we got to the racecourse, there were loads of cars and coaches so we had managed to avoid all that traffic!

To be honest, Keith and I, for some reason, didn't think it was going to be that busy, but the place was jammed full of people and there was a long queue to get in. There was a weird combination of people wearing very dressed-up clothes (a lot of women were wearing fascinators in place of hats) and the usual scruffs. Unfortunately, though, there was a lot of pale and wobbly flesh on display, and I don't mean mine!

I flirted with the idea of doing a Tote Placepot bet, but it looked a bit confusing, so I stayed with the bookies. I had picked out all my horses at home and was going to stick with them no matter what I read in the Racing Post. In the first, my choice was Mulberry Hill. Keith chose Dazzling Glory, but Haseefah won, a horse I had looked at as well. Mine came second.

In the second race, I chose Scots Gold as the horse I'd already picked, Sacre Pierre, was a non-runner. Keith had a bet on Whyzzat, but Addosh won. Mine came second again...

We mostly stayed by the parade ring, so we stood the whole time we were there. I was glad I was wearing flat shoes! I enjoyed an ice cream, but we'd taken some Keith-made sausage rolls with us, which we'd eaten in the car so we weren't hungry. 

In the third race, I placed a bet on Regaby while Keith went for Vinnie's Getaway. However, Railway Muice won, pushing his way to the front at the last minute! Our horses came nowhere!

By now we were feeling a little dispirited and said that if we had no luck in the next race, we'd go home early. We weren't going to stay to the end anyway, and one of the horses I'd picked, Near Kettering, was a non-runner which was disappointing. In the fourth, Keith chose Buster Thomas and I placed a bet on Flamboyant Joyaux. It was a good race, and Keith won £55! Mine was nowhere again so I was glad I hadn't done the Tote Placepot!

Buoyed up by the win, we stayed for the 4.30pm race and I blew £10 on an each-way bet on Pawpaw, which was rated highly by one of the pundits in the paper. Keith chose Valentino Dancer and for most of the way around the course, they were neck and neck! Unfortunately, for me, Pawpaw came last but Keith won another £45 for his horse! It would have been brilliant if my horse had come second!

We left the crowds behind and walked back to the car. Luckily, hardly anyone else was leaving and we were able to make it out without any problems. The exit was along a very narrow wooded road so I dread to think what it would be like later when everyone was going home!

Scots Gold, my second bet

The jockeys going out to meet the trainers and owners

The crowds

We wound our way through flat farmland, and pretty villages until we picked up the A46 again. As Keith had had a couple of wins, we decided to find a pub for a meal on the way home. We opted to go onto the A1 after Lincoln, rather than the A46, which is fast but a bit boring! At Stamford, we would link up with our very own A43 so I suggested The Queens Head at Bulwick.

By the time we reached the pub, it was well past 6.30pm and we were dismayed to find it closed. What had happened? This was a pub featured in the little book we'd found in Southwell and they were raving about the food! We sat in the empty car park and I googled pubs nearby. The Hatton Arms at Gretton came up so we made our way there, driving along tiny country lanes with the sun in our eyes, so at times we could hardly see! In the distance, we could see what looked like a huge sports arena and it seemed so strange to see it in the middle of nowhere! Like it had been dumped!

Gretton is a very pretty village and it has two pubs - The Hatton Arms and The Blue Bell. We drove past The Blue Bell and found The Hatton Arms tucked down a narrow street. There were only two other cars in the car park, and we feared at first this was closed as well!

Inside we ordered our drinks and enquired about a table, to be told they were full... There were empty tables in the bar area and when we left the tables in the restaurant hadn't been set up for dining. Keith said the landlady didn't like the look of us!

We went instead to The Blue Bell and although I ordered half a pint of Guinness, I received a pint! We dithered over which table to sit at, eventually choosing one right in the middle of the bar area and sat down. As I sat down I did something with my foot, sending Keith's entire pint everywhere! It was all over the table, all over me and all over the floor! I was so embarrassed!

The pub was only doing pizzas, and as I was covered in beer and smelling like a brewery, we fled. We drove back to Kettering, called at The Trading Post for fish and chips and went home. By now, we were both very hungry and I was tired from all the driving and the drama!

Needless to say we had an early night!