1750: That's it. Another wonderful Festival over. Signing off 10 minutes early to begin the journey back to Leeds. Going home with sore feet and pastry-fired acid indigestion but also very happy. This really is the greatest show on turf.

1730: Safe to say I haven't cracked racing. No races left now either. It only seems a few hours ago that the meeting was starting on Tuesday. The Pitville Soul Band were here then.

1720: Sausage sandwiches are out now. I can't go in again. The pastry from the pie has left me with a bit of acid indigestion. It's either that or a heart attack according to my medical men.

1715: Paul Nicholls has won today's Guinness Festival award. Very pleased with my work as a judge this year. May take it up professionally.

1710: The press room is emptying. Someone stole my chair earlier in the week but there are now enough to go round. One race to go. I'm going for it with last year's winner Desert Quest. Pamper zone has closed. Never got my Thai foot massage.

1655: Jilly Cooper isn't from Leeds. Wish I'd spoken to her, it would be nice to spend the final hour of the diary discussing matters of the heart.

1650: Jilly Cooper's gone and I haven't cracked racing. Been a turbulent five minutes. Apparently she may be from Leeds. We are romantics in West Yorkshire so there's every chance.

1640: My video work is over for the Festival. Backed Tysou in this. He'll win now I've cracked racing.

1620: Jilly Cooper is in the press room. May ask for a bit of advice on how to make the diary a bit more spicey. I am not slowly removing layers of clothing though. It is very cold now.

1550: No bet in the Foxhunters even though the fact I've had two winners on the bounce probably means I've cracked this lark.

1540: I've started a new tradition. Some people celebrate success with a glass of champagne, a compact steak and kidney pie did me just fine. You can't chink them like glasses though, the pastry collapses.

1536: Just realised why they are so passionate. Kauto Star has won the £1million Betfair bonus. Might pop down and peck the odd cheek myself to see if they can sub me the petrol money home.

1535: Lots of kissing in the winners' enclosure but no flag waving. They seem suitably happy.

1530: The feelgood factor is well and truly back. Race marred slightly by the fact I chose to stand behind a pillar which meant I had no view whatsoever of the winner's mistake at the last. Some horse though.

1515: I love the Gold Cup. Hope Kauto Star wins and I'm not involved heavily on the financial side. I couldn't be after the opening three days I've endured.

1515: Green light from Nina to have a pie. Strongly suggests to me she won't have tea ready. Will Hayler wants me to sing Caravan Of Love with him in the press room. I won't.

1510: Still three pies left. Still undecided. I'm with Kauto Star in the Gold Cup. Now I'm on a roll who knows where it stops.

1505: Three pies left at this stage. I'll have to swoop soon. Still undecided. A full cooked breakfast, beef sandwich and bangers and mash have already been put away. No wonder I'm having hot flushes.

1500: Should I celebrate my second winner of the week with a pie? It is a real dilemma. Nina has vowed to have tea ready for my return to West Yorkshire tonight and I've technically already had three meals today thus far.

1455: First back spasm of the day must be pre-Gold Cup nerves.

1445: Not even I could stop that one. AP seems a little happier, but not much. I am.

1430: Good news for the bookmakers. I've ensured Wichita Lineman finishes second by backing it.

1420: I'm moving on quickly from the latest second. The toilets were indeed clean and comfortable but full of people drinking while weeing. As I said last year it's not good for the kidneys and sneered at by Dr Hilary Jones.

1410: Sometimes words are not needed.

1345: Off to the lawn - via the recommended toilets - for the opener. Hope I can walk past the four bars on the way though. I'm craving another Baileys.

1340: I've backed Liberate in the opener. Expect him to finish second. Just done a brief calculation and in the last 72 races I've seen at the Festival, three winners is my tally. The betting ban may become permanent after the Triumph.

1340: I haven't seen a single tank top since Tuesday. Glad I didn't rush in and buy one now.

1335: The bar crawl has backfired. I need the toilet and that is always difficult at the Festival. I've been tipped off that the one close to the entrance is the quietest and very clean. It's the one tip I've listened to all week.

1325: Fresh supply of pies has arrived. Also someone close to me was given three sausages. I got two. This is indeed a cruel world.

1315: It seems my bar crawl has not been well received in the office. Neither was the fact I drank Baileys before noon. This could be my last trip to the Festival.

1300: Quite unbelievably the last pie went with the person in front of me. I switched to sausage but my heart was with the pie. Steak apparently. My favourite.

1245: Been on a Cheltenham bar crawl. Started at Arkle, ended in Cottage Rake. One pint of Guinness, one soft drink. You can tell I'm getting old.

1200: Seems busier today. Going to try and get a drink in the Arkle bar. If it's too crowded I'll march straight out. That may be the Baileys talking.

1145: Gerry Harte is expecting Oliver Brady to win the County Hurdle with Maralan and will then celebrate in his usual understated way. May row in with him. I need something to change my fortunes.

1140: A small bottle of Baileys was waiting for me when I returned to my desk. Downed it in one.

1130: Lead singer of the Cheltenham Festivals is wearing a scarf and sweating heavily. You'd think he'd put two and two together.

1120: Off to get my daily dose of the Jazzberries. At this time yesterday the fashion show was imminent. Looking back now they were magical times.

1110: Been surfing the net to try and find out exactly what a Thai foot massage is and was pointed one or two "interesting" sites. Sure they don't do that in the Pamper Zone.

1100: Charlie Chaplin and the Mad Hatter are back. It's been a long week for Charlie though and he seemed to be wincing as he wobbled his cane. He is a man ageing before your very eyes.

1050: The waxing is off. They don't do them. You can have an Indian head massage and a Thai foot massage. Perhaps at the same time.

1040: The pamper room is still open. The back waxing remains a possibility.

1030: Couple of tweaks to the music line-up today. The Jazzberries survive in the Centaur but onto the Community Stage come the "Cheltenham Festivals". They were in the Best Mate Enclosure yesterday. I miss the Pittville Soul Band.

1015: I'm moving to Brussels. Giles Wareham tells me it is a terrible city with no horse racing or even greyhound action. Sounds bliss.

1000: Any hope of maintaining a positive mood through Gold Cup day ended at around 4am when the friend I'm sharing a bed with elbowed me in the back for snoring. As a result I've a new hunched walking style and will never share a bed with a man again. They're brutes. It's nice and sunny which is also bad news as I've gone for a blue shirt again.