I survived Badminton cross country 2010 (they should sell t-shirts with that on) and am now home, wrapped in the biggest, warmest furry blanket you've ever seen. I'm snuffling and curled around a box of tissues after coming home with a cold after (I suspect it was her) a young clueless child of a girl coughed in my face yesterday at the dressage; it makes me feel so old to say it - but I despair about youngsters today: they are so utterly and completely clueless. If only I had realised as a frustrated teen that the reason I was treated like a stupid child is because I was one.
So the cross country, on the Sunday for the first time in Badminton's history, was a wet, cold and windy day - miserable! I knew it'd be just so when I woke up at 6.10am this morning for a painfully early shower and saw mother nature was already having one. Cars were already wheel-spinning as we pulled into the media car park (next to the fully heated media centre with alcohol, food, hot drinks and screens following events on tap for free...it's a wonder any photographers even bother going out onto the course, but then they do have special media cars to drop them off. I refused the kind offer; I felt I should slum it with the average joe rich kids). So the day kicked off with the shetland grand national: my personal highlight was one pony unseating his rider by rearing up as they set off. Shetlands are like the clowns of the horse world: laurel and hardy comedy with a certain not-so-funny side to them.
And then there was a presentation by the world horse welfare (WHW), formerly the ILPH (International League for the Protection of Horses) - When I entered their expensive raffle to win a new mitsubishi, I asked the volunteer lady why they changed their name and she responded "because ILPH didn't really say who we are" -baffling, because it did, but I won't argue because they don't sound like the johovah's witnesses of the equine charity circuit anymore, which can only be a good thing. The presentation made me cry, by the way; I am always on the cusp of emotional tears at Badminton and sob stories about ponies with horrific eye injuries is bound to tip me over the edge.
Then the XC kicked off and we decided to walk the course backwards, so the horses would be coming towards us (otherwise you get the unsettling sensation that they're going to run you down, a bit like if you walk on a road in the direction of the traffic). Out of the first 6 horses, only 1 finished. We stuck around for 1 or 2 horses per jump (apart from at the lake, when Thom went in search of toilets - I'd been able to use the fence judge's personal loo. You have to love priveleges when you're in a boggy field with about 600 people queing for 6 portaloos and you can stroll up to one behind a thin white rope). Whilst Thom qued with the masses, I chatted to the photographers I kept bumping in to - both lovely guys who were really genuine and friendly (one from the chronical in Bath) and their friend who really generously gave me a hand warmer after taking pity on me. Apparently I looked as cold as I was. The weather was, after relenting for a while, starting to look a bit on the threatening side again so I waited for Zara Phillips (Royalty, if you've been living under a rock for the past 20 years) to jump and then decided that was enough for me. I did want to see her clear through the water though, after she pulled up right beforehand last year I was really rooting for her (not as much as I am rooting for Mary King and William Fox Pitt, though - me and the bf entered a free media competition to guess the winner COME ON MACCHIATO!)
So now I am home, cold and barely awake but I couldn't wait to upload the photos and share my day with you. I just realised I didn't share my dressage story with you either so I shall pick a great photo to go with it and write a (much shorter!) blog about yesterday... x
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