Fairyhouse 2026

My first trip racing in Ireland was Punchestown in April, 2009. Sparky drove, Squeezy packed a crate of Strongbow into the cab, and I took a holdall, an M&M cushion and a wind-up torch that they soon forbade me to use after deeming it too irritating. It was nearly a week away, and we spent the daytime at the races and nights flitting between Hayden's and The Court in Naas…

Anyway, this time, I was due to leave for Fairyhouse with Monbeg Genius (Minnie) on Good Friday (April 3^rd). As it was my first time away from two young children, I was treating it as a mini-break and had excitedly packed during a couple of lunchtimes:

Riding out gear.

Hay.

Feed

Scoop*

Carrots.

Electrolytes.

Grooming kit.

Colour bag.

Racing kit for Monbeg Genius.

Racing kit for me.

Overnight bag (including hairbrush, contact lenses, phone charger and novel).

Equine first aid kit.

Water container.

Buckets.

Rugs.

Haynet.

M&M cushion.

*easily forgotten!

We were travelling with Ken Gamble’s horse transport and a driver called Andrea McMahon. Packing everything into a two-box was like moving house, but Pickfords

couldn't have done it better. It helped that we only had one horse, so we put hay, feed and his rugs in the empty stall. We left at 6 pm, and the roads were quiet, the Bank Holiday rush long over.

The journey took us as if we were racing at Bangor-on-Dee, but continued on to Holyhead. Minnie travelled well, and I offered him food, water and gave him electrolytes. When travelling, horses aren’t great drinkers, so electrolytes help them stay hydrated. In the early hours of the 4^th, we boarded The Ulysses, a huge steel floating whale that ate up vehicles and spat us into berths. The stained, swirling blue carpet was slightly smelly, and I was reminded of going on childhood holidays to the continent on P&O. It was hard – but not impossible – to sleep during the shuddering, juddering voyage, in a cot where my feet felt higher than my head.

At Dublin, as we waited in customs, I gave Minnie more water and feed, and we were off at 5:00 to our base at Tattersalls, across the road from Fairyhouse Racecourse, County Meath. It was only a half an hour journey, and it was still dark when we unloaded at the very empty sales complex. Ben Pauling's two-box was already there. I watered, gave more electrolytes, bedded up and gave Minnie hay. It was only Pauling’s, David Pipe’s and my runner staying there.

Leading the 'string' on Jamie Green's gallops

Pauling’s head of travelling, Camilla Sharples, arranged using the gallops a mile away at Jamie Green’s yard. Bob Hodge, head of travelling to Pipe, brought along his grey mare and Pauling's two were ridden by Camilla’s groom Ryan Alderman.

  Being on the quiet handicap chaser, I led the other two on the youngsters, and we trotted to warm up in an outdoor school. Just before we got to the two-furlong round sand gallop, I said with a grin, 'Who would have thought I'd be riding out with you, Bob?'

‘After all these years,’ he answered! I definitely remember being on other overnights with Bob, in particularly at Ayr, but we had never ridden out together – it was another reason why this trip was extra memorable.

Minnie was great and enjoyed the three steady canters each way. As the other two put theirs on the walker, I untacked and gave Minnie a pick of grass by the lorries. It might have been grey and miserable, but I was so happy to be there with my favourite horse and a great bunch of people, with lots of laughter and banter.  

Minnie was too busy, nosy and excited to eat much grass. Between mouthfuls, he swung his head up to gaze around him. Fergal O'Brien's and Jamie Snowden's runners were staying there, but they had been ridden out earlier.

Andrea and I then made our way to where we were staying, the large hotel called Dundoyne Castle, which was more Travel Inn than castle, but clean and comfortable. Plus, the breakfast was sprawling, with many choices from pastries to a Full Irish.

Whilst I left a shattered Andrea to sleep, I showered, changed and had a sit down before I was picked up by Monica Knox-Crawford, a best friend I hadn't seen for over ten years. She once worked for former Lambourn trainer Charlie Mann, and looked after great horses like Air Force One, Fine Parchment and How’s Business. We had actually met at that Punchestown trip. It was so lovely to see her – we went for lunch, and then she took me back to Tatts.

Monica, Minnie and I

Monica kindly started to lead out Minnie whilst I mucked out, refreshed his water and put his feed in ready. Then I joined them walking around the ghost town of Tattersalls, amid the many empty barns, the echoes of past sales in the air. The sales ring itself was locked, but the stable yards and barns were free to roam around.

We literally walked everywhere, Minnie’s shoes loud in the quiet, the wind sharp in the emptiness. We enjoyed spotting the gold plaques, positioned next to the stables of past champions sold, many we remembered and called out the most familiar ones with glee.

We tucked Minnie up with feed and lots of hay and carrots – anything to keep him eating. My energy levels were plummeting, and it was a sad farewell with Monica.

Things I was grateful for on Day One:

               Minnie for being a great ride.

               Old friends for being the best of friends.

               Racing friends for also being the best of friends.

               The leg up from Alex Waters’, head of travelling to Snowden’s.

Day Two:

The sun shone as we drove to Jamie Green’s, where I led two warmup laps in trot and cantered three again. Afterwards, I gave Minnie a long pick of grass under an endless blue sky. He was much more relaxed, pulling at the lush grass with vigour, enjoying the snack. Back in his stable, I brushed him – it was lovely to be able to shower attention on one horse.

Bob leading up Kingston Queen

After lunch, we popped to the racecourse. Andrea had a Guinness, and I had a 0% Bulmer’s cider (something that hadn’t existed in 2009!). In a marquee, there was brilliant live music, but it was a scrum, and the more alcohol was consumed, the more of a scrummage it became. The female racegoers weren't tweedy as Cheltenham, but more Aintree in a myriad of dresses, styles and colours, layers of orange tan and cakey makeup. We watched Bob and Alex lead up their greys in the fifth race, and befriended fellow UK staff from Olly Murphy’s and James Owen’s.

Whilst the others stayed to watch Fergal O’Brien’s Sixmilebridge run, I walked back to Tatts and spent the usual hour leading out Minnie. We went on the lookout for more gold plaques and, through some solid wooden gates, we saw a point-to-point course and a cross-country course. We joined the others for a pick of grass, their hooves pitting the immaculately mowed verges. We said farewell to Bob, who was leaving at five the next morning.

That evening, I had dinner with an old colleague, Nicole Vaughn, who I had worked with ten years ago and has since worked at Willie Mullins’ and Gavin Cromwell’s. We had a good catch-up, and talked about the past and present over a meal in the hotel.

Things I was grateful for on Day Two:

Minnie.

Racing friends in general.

Hotel breakfasts.

Getting out of the racecourse bar tent alive.

Day Three and Four

               Having decided not to ride out on race day, I led Minnie round Tatts again. This time, we found the stables allocated for blood testing and rows of lunge pens used in vetting. The vastness and emptiness, again, were striking. I shampooed Minnie and left him with breakfast.

               I returned to the hotel until checkout time, and Andrea drove back to Tatts, which was now feeling like home from home. We nipped over to the racecourse to drop the colour bag into the ‘Weigh Room’. Camilla had worked in Ireland for nearly a decade, so she knew everyone, and it was like hanging out with a celebrity as people

were chatting to her, pleased to see her after her two years back in the UK. We signed into the stable yard and prepared our stables – over here, the racecourse stables already have big beds of shavings or shredded paper, whereas in Ireland, you have to put in your own bedding. There was half a bale of shavings waiting, and the kindly stable manager, Michelle, had left a spare bale for the UK runners. There was also a bodywarmer and baseball cap, in Boyles Sports Royal blue, and a goodie bag that included lots more Boyles Sports gifts, including a phone charger, pen, sunglasses and a Lilly O’Brien’s Easter egg.

As the others stayed to watch some races, I walked back to Tatts, past the coaches bringing in the girls in their fake tans, spiky heels and flowing dresses and the young men with anything from mullets to velveteen jackets.

The noise of traffic, music and crowds filtered from the racecourse, a contrast to the emptiness of Tatts. Andrea deflected many young male racegoer who came to urinate in the loading bays.

After packing up the lorry, we loaded Minnie and went in convoy to the racecourse stables. Our stables were at the back, and the buzzing atmosphere became noisy. Minnie was calm, though it wound up a couple of other horses. Getting a horse ready for a race is the same everywhere; I had already plaited, but I still brushed him, polished him and oiled his hooves.

AJ O'Neill came to saddle in the stable, and I then led Minnie round to the pre-parade ring. It was crowded with the thirty runners, as was the paddock. The Taoiseach was there, but I didn’t get a glimpse as the paddock was so busy. Minnie did me proud by winning the best turned out, though he was the only one with a plaited tail. Then he made me feel prouder by leading for much of the race and finishing fifth, even surviving getting hampered by a faller whose hind legs knocked his hindquarters. Soldier In Milan was an impressive winner and one to look out for next season.

An hour after the race, I gave Minnie a feed and rugged him up warmly. After hanging a haynet in the lorry, we were driving the half hour to Dublin by 8:00. The racecourse stables had gone quiet, but droves of race goers were climbing into buses or into taxis, or just stumbling towards town, much of their glamour gone.

At the port, I followed Andrea to customs, and she handed over the relevant paperwork. After they scanned his microchip, I left him with water and feed so he could eat during the sailing. We were the first to drive onto the upper deck, which meant we’d be the first off. Camilla parked Pauling’s lorry behind us, and we climbed the many stairs to the trucker's lounge. In my cabin, the folded-up top bunk rattled, and my bed sank in the middle, though I slept better through the vibrating, swaying motion. The 'skip out' came after 1:00 and though I was up, I wasn’t really functioning and was very sleepy.

There was a chill in the salty air as I took away Minnie’s feed and water. We watched men in hi-vis haul out impossibly big ropes, and the ramp lowered – and Andrea was driving away. We arrived back home at 6:30 on Tuesday, where I unloaded Minnie into a huge shavings bed in the barn with breakfast and hay.

I had to run my kids to nursery, passing my husband Joe, as he went to the office, at the back door. Then, I came back to put all the equipment away, put the colours in the washing machine and stash the buckets for the next overnighter.

I was shattered but elated after four nights away with incredible people and the most fantastic horse. The next day, Wednesday, I spent as usual with my kids and then was back riding out on the Thursday, the fun of a round gallop in County Meath not far from my thoughts.