I CAME downstairs at The Mayson in Dublin’s North Wall on Friday morning in a state of slightly hungover bliss, to hear the dulcet tones of “Some Guys Have All The Luck” (The Persuaders, not Rod Stewart) on the hotel’s PA system. It makes me smile.

“Some guys have a little sunshine in their lives; my life is always full of rain……”

This has been a week full of sunshine, both literal and metaphorical, and I’m still basking in it despite the gentle but persistent thrum inside my head. I made a resolution earlier in the year to go racing more often and drag myself away from the passive comfort of my home office.

It’s comforting to know that the day will hold no surprises, that routine will insulate us from anxiety or awkwardness, but that comfort comes at a price.

No anxiety, no worry, no social awkwardness, also means no challenge, no unexpected joy, no surge of adrenaline. It’s not good for a fella to retreat into the womblike embrace of the work-from-home routine, and I know it too well.

Even the short hop to school to drop the boys off comes with its concerns – making small talk with other parents who I still barely know after several years means I’m always slightly on edge.

Conversations with people you know but who don’t really get you are tricky, but one of the great joys of going racing – particularly, but not exclusively in Ireland – is that a common bond makes those conversations so much less awkward and enables you to quickly turn strangers into acquaintances and acquaintances into friends.

Life-affirming experience

The love of racing breaks those social barriers down and I’ve found a few days at Punchestown to be a wonderfully positive and life-affirming experience.

I stayed the first few days at June Blake’s Garden at Tinode, on the road to Blessington in Wicklow and was given a typical Wicklow welcome. Arriving later than expected and too tired to trek to the shops for provisions, I kicked myself for not stopping at a shop on the way to buy the basics.

Shortly after, June’s daughter Fiona Craul arrived at my door with half a bottle of milk, half a loaf of bread and a stick of Kerrygold butter among other goodies, and I immediately knew I was at home.

Fiona also called a local taxi driver to ensure I had a lift to the races on Tuesday and so it was that John Tipper became not only my driver for the week, but also my guide to the area, and we enjoyed easy company on the way to the track each morning.

I stayed in Dublin on Thursday night, so John loaded my suitcase into the boot of his car and shook my hand when taking it out at the other end, bidding me farewell at the end of his brief stint as my personal chauffeur.

When I came out of the paddock at the end of racing on Thursday, there was John standing on the steppings, and we greeted each other like old friends. You don’t get that with Uber, I can tell you.

I often forget how the racecourse provides such ample opportunity to reconnect you with old faces that you wouldn’t normally see, and Punchestown was a tremendous example of that.

It’s more than 20 years since a group of members of The Racing Forum came together to lease a filly in training and that experience provided us with lots of fun. Most of us were young and single then, and have since settled down and predictably lost touch, so it was lovely to run into one of that partnership, Conall McCorley, on Wednesday.

Pleased as punch

Conall looked as pleased as punch as he arrived at the track with son Finn, who was celebrating his 21st birthday. The last time I’d seen Finn, he must have been no older than six, so it was a lovely moment, and it wasn’t long after that I was hailed by another familiar voice, that of another old syndicate member, Art O’Malley, transporting me back a decade or two, to more carefree times.

There were many other moments catching up with those I tend only to see racing and catching up with colleagues who I usually speak to only via Zoom meetings. In the flesh is always more satisfying.

But the best was kept for last – I spent the first few days hard at work in the paddock and pre-parade so the opportunity to be sociable was limited, and the first opportunity I had to relax came on Thursday evening, and it was a happy coincidence that both myself and the affable Jamie Benson were heading to Dublin.

We shared a cab to the Mayson and enjoyed cocktails (I know) in the hotel bar while we put the world to rights.

Such conversations tend to run the gamut of topics, racing and otherwise, but are always a joy when you’re on the same wavelength, and Jamie is absolutely that.

We talked about racing and our relative places in that world, our great affection, and our occasional frustration about various aspects of it, but also about how we’re coping in the world at large. I’m not always good at that, but Jamie is searingly honest, and it encourages reciprocation.

It was the most enjoyable evening I’ve had in ages, and while it came with a pain in the head this morning, it was well worth it.