Glorious Goodwood was an annual day out for the family when I was a child.
My dad used to take me and my three brothers a long way by train to the Sussex Downs where we sat high up on a hill, free of charge, sharing an inadequate pair of binoculars trying to spot the horses in the far off distance.
Mum made a picnic and we enjoyed, if memory serves me correctly, mainly good weather and we had a little each way dabble on the horses.
It seems that the weather may not be so kind at the beginning . . .
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