Millions to be spent on booze, bets, and bites at Cheltenham

One day down, three to go. The Cheltenham Festival is, and always has been, a marathon rather than a sprint but the pace of life at the Prestbury Park racecourse in the depths of the Cotswolds never ceases to amaze no matter how many the renewals.

For the bones of four days every March, the authorities here manage to squeeze six or seven races into a tiny, four-hour window and punters enter the spirit by throwing away millions on bets, booze, and bites. It’s immeasurable fun.

It’s also one of the few venues in the worlds of sport or entertainment where the smell of cigarette smoke can still approach something like the levels of an era long gone, but it’s the pace of life that can really leave you in a haze.