The Jockey Club Rooms.

Turning off Newmarket High Street, through the wrought iron gates the large Georgian front door of the Jockey Club rooms shows no evidence of what lies beyond.

A cross between a country house and a five star hotel, the walls of the corridors and reception rooms are hung with numerous priceless works of art. There are famous horses by Munings and Herring, and portraits of past members. The one of sir Winston Churchill is apparently the only one of him in adulthood, without a cigar!
The antique furniture is covered in silverware and racing memorabilia and there are vases of fresh flowers everywhere.

But most astonishing of all are the several acres of grounds, an oasis in the centre of Newnarket, that so few ever get the chance to visit.

Tonight was the awards evening for those associated with the breeding of racehorses. Delicious food, free flowing wine, lots of clapping and shaking of hands.

The guest speaker, rugby commentator Ian Robertson was hilarious, brilliant, inspirational. A series of anecdotal stories about his career as a commentator and the people he has met along the way had us in stitches.
I spoke to him afterwards, the first time to say how much I'd enjoyed his talk. The second time to offer him a fork (no, that is not a mis-spelling! One for his dinner.!!)
"At this rate you'll think I'm stalking you" I said
"I want you to stalk me" he replied!

I looked for him a bit later - He'd gone!!

The building on the Right is the bedrooms and suites, where members can stay when in town.

Can't stop now anyway, off to rake my gravel path I can't be out done by the Jockey Club.