A bedrock jumping crowd and slow horses.

Byline: SKETCH Alastair Down at Towcester

TO Towcester, once lovingly described by Capt Tim Forster as "the last refuge of the slow horse" - and that from a man who trained a few that were grateful for the shelter.

The Tories were still in power when I last visited the place and in the interim they have built a couple of swish new stands which would both make fine 1930s cinemas.

Facilities are great and admission free, presumably on the basis that owner Lord Hesketh has frittered away such a vast fortune that a extra few quid makes no odds.

At the heart of the estate lies one of the country's architectural gems, Easton Neston, which has been in the family over 400 years. Now it is gone, a monument to how not to guard your birthright.

This is a bedrock jumps crowd and much of the chatter is of the Lord Mayor's show last week, with a few wounds still being licked and plenty of adverse comment of the experience Cheltenham offer their racegoers. It would be a huge help to Cheltenham's beleaguered public relations if they spent less time circling the wagons and more listening to those who wish them well.

There is more grass sprouting in an old hippy's propagator than there is on Towcester's hurdles course, but this place takes a terrible battering through the winter and it was so wet at the last meeting that an enterprising local Chinese family were spotted planting rice after the last.

Among those on hand was Dave Nevison, the most affable of the pro punters, who emerged from a lean spell when trousering pounds 96,000 from the Scoop6 last Saturday. Dave is well capable of celebrating a touch, indeed last year's triple salchow, somersault and pike from a bar table in a York hostelry still has them talking in admiration in Accident and Emergency at Eboracum General.

The seller is an almost unfathomably indifferent race won by Cullian, and efforts to extract an opening bid of 3,000gns fall on deaf ears. You would have been hard pushed to get 3,000 lire and there is no relocation for Cullian.

Ninth of ten was JP McManus's Majestic Moonbeam. If you have as many horses as JP you are bound to have some shockers, but he has strength in depth in the dire department like no-one else.

Many moons ago the Earl Of Glasgow used to cull his two-year-olds at the end of the season with a shotgun. No need for that, but if ever a racing operation ached for some serious streamlining it has to be JP's.