Aboard our coach from Rouen to Paris for the Prix de l’Arc de Triomphe our lady guide put it succinctly: ‘The only polite Parisians are the ones who are asleep.’ Try out your rusty French anywhere else and the locals award you bonus marks for effort: Parisians sneer and affect the sort of aural incomprehension Lester Piggott displayed when stable lads sought a fiver for leading up his winner.
It was a joy nonetheless to be at my first Arc: while I was a full-time political commentator the coincidence with the party conference season made attendance impossible. It was all the more fun sharing duties with ex-jockey John Reid, who won the 1988 Arc on Tony Bin, escorting cruise ship passengers to the big race won for the second year in a row by the remarkable filly Treve.
Longchamp’s style certainly lived up to expectations.
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