The Irish invaders to the Cheltenham festival are like chips to fish, you can have one without the other, but it’s just not right.

It’s the Paris fashion week of National Hunt racing, THE biggest week of the season. Doing my job, it is, hands down, THE biggest and busiest week of the year for me, the one I love the most, but not until I’m actually there!

I was lucky that Jennifer Pugh and her team spoon fed us through each stage of traveling the staff over in a safe manner during the pandemic. I have had more covid tests at this stage than the labs testing them! That just left the horses…….

It’s midnight on the Friday before Cheltenham. We are leaving the yard at 4.30 am to get to the port in Dublin for the morning sailing to Holyhead. Nicole in the office has all my paperwork sorted for the horses to travel as thanks to Brexit this is now a minefield. I’ve literally been packing for a month, I’m laid in bed, 4.5 hours to go and all I can think of is what I might have forgotten.

PING! Henry texts to confirm that he has fed all horses traveling the next morning a ‘late scoop’. ‘Great, please leave scoop somewhere obvious!’ is the response he got, and definitely not the one he was expecting, the cool character that he is passed no remark. I have no idea if I have packed a scoop or not but at least this way I will remember to check!

There are 28 horses on the list to travel over this week, and as always, the first load leaves the Saturday before the festival. The pallets of feed have been delivered directly to Cheltenham, as has the Hay.

Colours! There is a box taped up in the office with all the jockey’s silks in, by this stage I have checked it at least thrice and Nicole the same, but the anxiety gets the better of me and I make a mental note to check the box AGAIN in the morning.

There are horses which must wear sponsored gear in England and not Ireland and Cheveley Park’s colours must have tags on the collars in England and not in Ireland. I had sown the Velcro patches onto the collars in the most undomesticated manner possible, a quick prayer that they do the job is about all I can do for that one! I have prescriptions from the vets for any medication which is traveling with me so I know I’m in line with

the BHA guidelines there too. The horses all get a selection of supplements each day, they’re all packed along with an extensive list of who gets what!

Bridles. Have I got enough bridles? Have I left enough behind me for the runners in Wexford on Friday? I’m sure I have, but yet again, another mental note to check in the morning. I have all the paddock sheets collected from the dry cleaners. EVERYTHING is cleaned, oiled and polished to within an inch of its life. There is enough shampoo packed to sink a battleship, and we’ll pretend we know nothing about the baby oil shortage Waterford was facing after I stocked up for the week that was in it!

3 am comes around and I decide my best course of action is to get up and go to battle! Potentially the biggest challenge of the day is fitting my 3 extra-large suitcases and 4 overnight bags into the car to go to the yard. There are about 3 items of clothing I own which are not packed, truth be known, they no longer fit anyway! It’s time to load the horses, we weigh them all before they leave, and I microchip scan each one onto the back of the lorry.

Each horse arrives at the ramp with its feed pot, bridle and rugs. At this stage we are running out of space and the manner in which the rugs are squished in the lockers leaves a lot to be desired! They’re in, and that’s all I really care about!

That’s it, two twelve stall lorries are setting sail with the first 16 runners and the rest to follow later in the week.

Coming home with 6 winners including a champion hurdle, Gold cup 1st & 2nd and a Champion chase had never entered my imagination, I still have to pinch myself!