Willie Mullins bandwagon spends the day up on bricks as the festival shares its prizes around a bit

Day three at the festival turned out to be a 'making it up to you' day, as the racing gods had a look around to see who had taken an especially stiff kicking over the first two days and threw out some olive branches. Gordon Elliott got to carry away a trophy at last, his first 23 runners having failed to take him to the winner's enclosure, while there were more British-trained heroes in one afternoon than in the previous two put together.

For those of us longshot-backers worried about the festival turning into a favourite-fest, there was Monmiral pounding up the hill at 25-1 in the Pertemps Final. I'm afraid I managed to let that opportunity pass me by, disconcerted by his weak finish at Chepstow, but hopefully some of you are better judges of handicap form.

The trainers who made it to the podium were, in the main, well-established and well-funded. Such is the harsh reality of the modern festival, which has little room in its heart for romance.