CHESTER AND OTHER QUIRKY RACECOURSES.

'Oh ye young man, take my advice, Beware of painted faces, And mind which way your pony runs When you're at Totnes races.'

Totnes and Bridegetown races came to an end on September 1st 1938. The annual two-day fixture in September, celebrating the end of the Harvest, was described as an equivalent of a Roman Saturnalia, with theatre, cock-fighting, marching bands and fireworks, though perhaps that was in its earlier days as racing was recorded at Broad Marsh in 1794. I mention Totnes as it was a not fixed racecourse, with the fences placed to suit the condition of the farmland it used. Local landowners were happy to haves the races on their land but not on fields not yet harvested. The real quirkiness of Totnes, though, was that the River Dart had to crossed twice on any one circuit of the course. It was not unusual, if the Dart was running high, for a horse or jockey to be swept downstream if there should be stumble crossing the riverbed. Call me odd but I wish Totnes still survived as I have a liking for the Chesters, Epsoms and Laytowns of this world.

Given that several trainers in Britain train on the sand, and that Red Rum was trained to win three Grand Nationals on the sand at Southport, it is surprising that we have no equivalent to Laytown in this country. In France, I believe, there are several one-day fixtures on the shore-line of the Mediterranean. These fixtures are a great tourist attraction. You need, of course, the right type of sand, the tides to be in your favour and an area large enough to accommodate horses and people. But if Laytown can achieve it, it must be achievable somewhere in this fair isle of ours.

Epsom, of course, is a barmy place to stage one of the world's most iconic races. If you were inventing the Derby today, would you make Epsom your first choice? Yet, to me, it is a brilliant racecourse and would be even better if they had not abandoned the old part of the course that went across the Downs to where the Derby start is situated, allowing for long distance races such as the 2-mile 2-furlong Great Metropolitan Handicap.

Other European Derbys are run on bland, flat courses that may be fairer to horse and jockey yet lack iconic status and do not require the same amount of jockeyship and guile that is required of riders at Epsom with its gradiants and cambers. It is, though, an odd place for a classic race, not that I would change it for all the tea in India. I do enjoy Assam tea, though, so I will not stand 100% behind that pledge.

Chester is quirky and historic, the oldest racecourse in Britain and if you take away other Roman-aged racecourses, Chester must be in contention for the oldest in Europe, if not the world. Chester racecourse, if you are not familiar with it, is situated in the heart of the city. You might not think it but Chester is the favourite racecourse for trainers of horses with Epsom in mind. Whereas Epsom undulates, Chester is as flat as a pancake. Horses, though, are always on the turn, with the 2-furlong home straight surrounded on both sides by spectators. It is a racecourse that teaches young horses all about racing and racing in front of a large, noisy crowd, as it will be at Epsom.

If there is such a profession as a racecourse architect, which I doubt, he or she would not design Chester as it is, or Epsom, or Aintree, for that matter. Yet these racecourses have character and history attached to them, they test the skills of jockeys and while some horses will detest the ups and downs, the tight turns and the close proximity of the crowd, others love such places and reserve their best form for them. Of course, I would love to have Totness still in existence and would love to have a proper cross-country racecourse in Britain, as they have in France, after all steeplechasing started on unfixed courses, from steeple to steeple, and I wish we could have preserved that tradition, though of course that is not to say there is anything bad but blandness in our park courses and not every racecourse can stage a race that begins in one county and ends in another, as is the case with the Cesarewitch at Newmarket.

Incidentally, if you wish to know of any defunct racecourses near you, there is only one thing to do and that is to hunt down a copy of Chris Pitt's brilliant book 'A Long Time Gone', a history of what racing has lost down the decades and centuries. A book too good to be on my list of grave-goods. In fact that goes for all my racing books, which I will donate to someone worthy or the local library. For your information, my list included a copy of 'Three Men In A Boat', my wooden poker, if it survives longer than I do, my mug and a copy of the Racing Post dated the day of my death. If I were a warrior king I would also take my armchair and Dyson vacuum cleaner. Alas not, though in a previous life, I doubtless carried a sword and was feared throughout the land for the artistic manner in which I dispatched my enemies. I suspect this why I am friendless in this life!