Our man's week at the Qatar Goodwood Festival both on and off the track.
Monday
Thirty-six hours after driving north on the M40 and M1 back home from Ascot on Saturday, I’m reversing the journey, throwing in the M3 and an extra two hours for the sheer hell of it and heading to Goodwood.
Well, that’s the final destination. It’s Selsey for starters, my home for four nights. The accommodation is described as having “sea views and sleeps four”.
To be fair the former is correct if you’re tall enough, or stand on a chair, to look through the skylight window in the hallway. The sleeps four is a push. A big one. That, I discovered while bored in the same accommodation last year, would involve converting the sofa into a bed and two people hunkering down there. No need for that on this trip.
I’m battling a cold virus or the ilk and have been for over a week, the final gift from my daughter’s school before they threw her out for what is sure to be the longest six weeks of the calendar year.
And the family are in the car with me for this journey with the in-laws, Sussex based, also throwing their doors open. We’ve decided to limit my daughter’s screen time. She’s armed with an iPad and four downloaded films but will not be allowed on it until we’re at least three hours into our trek.
Thirty minutes later we’re playing ‘I Spy’. Her C, which has the driver and other passenger in the car absolutely dumbfounded, turns out to be 'Celestial’ when we finally take up her offer to stop guessing. She’s watching Moana before we’ve passed Sheffield.
It's not a bad trip down to be fair. Unlike in 2025 the keycode provided to access the, well key, works. I have that and a spring in my step and a booking to eat at 6pm at a pub down the road. I sweep in, notice 34 empty tables and no occupied ones, and don’t reveal I have a booking. A pint of Moretti is my first alcohol for over a week, the gourmet steak burger is definitely not gourmet, and I head back.
I can’t work out how to use the Smart TV so that’s another Midsomer Murders lost and, coughing and spluttering, retire for the evening.
