Destination Perth
It was all a bit mad really: A day trip Perth races. An idea conceived one morning with Tim on the shuttle from Clapham Junction to Esher for the Tingle Creek meeting. I had always fancied a trip to Britain’s most northerly racetrack. Tim was a regular visitor to the June meeting when he and his other half visited her in-laws in nearby Dundee. ‘I’ll join you!” I boldly declared. By the time Spring arrived, I was still committed to the trip. I had some half-hearted squints at B&Bs and timetables, but I was already fondly recalling my sleeper journey of a few years previously to Fort William. Eager to recapture something of the earlier experience, I duly booked up the sleeper either side of the Perth meeting, arriving Edinburgh early in the morning and heading back down south late the same evening. The Yorkshireman in me couldn’t sanction the outlay on a cabin for what would be a much shorter journey than the Fort William epic; and with much less in the way of attractive cou