MY experience of Cheltenham is as viewed through the prism of exclusive access, with my journey for each race taking me from media centre to parade ring and back; there are few better ways of enjoying racing than next to the heart of the action, especially when you’re just a few yards away from a free coffee.

More and more, however, I hear stories from people who spend their days above and beyond the confines of the paddock, expressing dismay about the size and conduct of the increasingly large crowd. The last day I spent as a true spectator was Gold Cup Day in 2014, the day after my first son was born, and a day which began in a haze of endorphins. While I largely rode through the day on the crest of that wave, and also witnessed one of the most astounding Gold Cup finishes in history, it didn’t take long for the euphoria to wear off, and while the atmosphere was hardly intimidating among the masses, it was neither pleasant nor apt for the occasion, and the most noticeable aspect of the day was a growing belligerence among the crowd who had come primarily for the booze.