This is Laytown, a raceday designed by Lewis Carroll where normal doesn't apply

Laytown starts every year with the same question: "Where the hell am I going to park?"

This is not a racecourse. It's a busy beach. The odd year you might strike gold with someone who arrived early leaving early and you steal a spot on the grass verge outside the entrance. I used to have a failsafe space on a green in a nearby housing estate but, like all good secrets, it's out now.

Last year, I ambled on until a nearby schoolyard presented itself. This year, I handbrake turn into a spot on the side of the road maybe 100 yards from the school and consider buying a lotto ticket on the way home.