The Relish Does Glorious Goodwood

Glorious Goodwood. Two words that encourage excitement and trepidation in gentlemen all over the country. Excitement due to the thrill of the race, trepidation on what suit to wear. Luckily the Relish was prepared to sort both out when we headed off to the final meeting of this famous event.

(Centre: Mr. D Horgan, Equine Expert Extraordinaire)

The sun was shining and the skies were blue as we arrived and after some brief refreshment in the form of strawberries and champagne we entered the enclosure and got a decent look at some of the runners. Luckily for us, help was at hand from Mr Daniel Horgan, the Relish's recently hired horse racing expert, who filled us on which horses were looking the best and we were soon laying down bets and getting into the swing of things. Strangely, the best tip of the day came just after the first race from a chance meeting at the bar. After this fellow (who seemed to be well hydrated) had stopped shouting the name of a well known lager at us (either that or he was reenacting a scene from A Streetcar Named Desire) and despite not really seeming to know where he was, he somehow managed to give 2 of the highest earning tips of the day! To you sir, wherever you might be, thank you.


However, as the day wore and our wallets grew emptier and emptier it soon came to the point where it was all or nothing. We'd already gambled away the Relish's emergency scotch and cigar fund and as we pooled our last change together there was only one thing to do; bet it all on the last race. Several tense minutes later and our boy stormed home by over a length, not only putting us back in the black but doubling our winnings as well. With the day ending with that last, epic race, we retired to The Red Lion in Lymmington, where we reinvested our hard earned cash into some of the local ales and celebrated well into the small hours.



Of course, the racing is only half the affair at Goodwood. On the female side, we were reasonably impressed with what was being worn although we had an early shock when 3 stretch Hummers pulled up and a tribe of spray tanned creatures tumbled out without so much as a hat between them. Needless to stay we stayed well clear of this lot and instead retired for a stiff G and T whenever this herd neared us. On the whole though, top marks to the ladies; understated, smooth and classy.

                                   



Unfortunately we are unable to say the same for our male counterparts. It became very clear to us that there were 2 distinct camps among the men this year. Firstly, the lottery winners. A message to them; gentlemen, you should not be able to see your own reflection in a suit. It is an item of clothing, not a mirror. Please, you're worth £20 million, hire a tailor. The second bunch we observed were the hipsters. Yes, you hear us right, hipsters. Not only hipsters, but ironic Sloan hipsters. There was a lot of  'I could wear tails, but I'm not going to, instead I'll wear a smoking jacket, turquoise cords and boatshoes with no socks, and why not through in a cane for good measure, as that will surely help make a statement about how working class I am'. You went to Eton. Deal with it. Not amount of living in an artist's collective in Shepherd's Bush will ever change that, so please, please stop ruining smoking jackets and boating blazers for the rest of us.

Apart from these two minor indiscretions, all in all we had a thoroughly enjoyable day out and we would highly recommend it to any readers who have not been yet. The only thing we could have done with was some sort of barge pole to negotiate though the sea of cockney touts but apart from that, there is little else to find fault with, especially when we were treated to free strawberries and cream all day. And on a final note, to our mysterious drunk friend, thank you once again, may your luck never run out and yes, we were drinking Stella.

Relish Rating: 8/10.