Another incredible festival for us - but Cheltenham is different now

Uttoxeter on the Saturday after Cheltenham. It seemed like a great idea at the time. As we weaved and wound our way two hours north on Saturday morning, it was far from even an average idea.

Ella McNeill, gorgeous and lovely, had volunteered to give myself, Cathal Coughlan and Kieran Stokes a lift. We’d left Charlie Mullins asleep on the floor with a cushion and a blanket, as the couch was already taken. He got in at 7am. We didn’t ask, he didn’t say.

I imagine Ella was regretting her moment of kindness as we poured ourselves into her jeep outside Cheltenham racecourse. I quickly realised the only way I was going to make this journey with my pride intact was to close my eyes and breathe very slowly.