Amy Murphy's Move: Newmarket to Chantilly

When a British racehorse trainer suddenly announces they are relocating to France, one has to wonder: Has the weight of BHA bureaucracy finally broken them? Or is it simply a case of wanting a real croissant rather than something that resembles a stale shoe sole from Greggs?

Amy Murphy’s move from Newmarket to Chantilly is not just about swapping tea for vin rouge; it’s a clear indictment of what British racing has become—a glorified bookmakers’ side hustle, suffocated by dwindling prize money, relentless affordability checks, and enough regulatory faff to make even the Inland Revenue seem efficient.

So, why would a trainer pack up their horses and head across the Channel? Because in France, the racing industry actually likes horses, rewards owners, and—shock horror—pays out decent prize money.

1. Prize Money: The French Actually Have Some

In Britain, prize money is now so paltry that winning a Class 5 handicap at Wolverhampton barely covers a week’s worth of hay. Meanwhile, over in France, even a modest midweek race offers winnings that might actually allow an owner to buy another horse, rather than just about cover their jockey’s breakfast bill.

And the best part? The French reward success, rather than making it feel like an act of financial self-sabotage. British owners are now well-versed in the grim mathematics of the sport:

• Win a race? Great.

• See most of your winnings eaten up by costs? Naturally.

• Find yourself still operating at a loss despite having a decent horse? Welcome to the game!

It’s no wonder that trainers like Murphy have decided that if they’re going to run a business, they’d rather do it in a country that doesn’t treat them like an inconvenience.

2. French Owners' Premiums: A Revolutionary Concept—Rewarding People Who Invest in Racing

Ah, the French! The land of art, culture, and—brace yourself—a racing system that actually encourages ownership. While British racing treats owners like cash machines expected to fund the sport without complaint, France rewards them with lucrative premiums for French-bred horses.

In the UK, if you invest in a young horse, you can look forward to years of vet bills, training fees, and the occasional thrill of a 6th-place finish in a £2,500 maiden at Lingfield. In France, owners get extra bonuses on top of prize money for running French-bred horses—making it not just an enjoyable pursuit, but a financially viable one.

British racing wonders why ownership is in decline, yet continues to operate under a system where owners are punished for their enthusiasm. The French, meanwhile, actually incentivise people to keep spending money on horses. Quelle surprise!

3. Training Costs: Less Money Burned, More Horses Running

Newmarket is lovely, but unless you’re Sheikh Mohammed or Coolmore, it’s also an eye-wateringly expensive place to train horses.

The costs of training in Britain continue to spiral upwards, with everything from staff wages to transport fees making it harder for mid-sized trainers to keep their heads above water. Meanwhile, across the Channel, Chantilly offers world-class training facilities at a fraction of the cost.

And let’s not forget that in Britain, the cost of entry fees alone can make trainers wonder why they didn’t just take up gardening instead. Every race comes with a bill, every declaration costs money, and every success is met with another invoice.

France, in contrast, subsidises racing from the top down, making it cheaper to run horses, enter races, and—heaven forbid—turn a profit.

4. Red Tape: Britain’s National Sport (Besides Moaning About the Weather)

British trainers are now subjected to so many rules, regulations, and affordability checks that it wouldn’t be surprising if, soon, they have to submit a personal essay explaining why they believe they should be allowed to train racehorses at all.

The BHA, in its infinite wisdom, appears determined to drown the sport in a sea of bureaucracy. Every decision feels like it has been made with the sole aim of making racing as joyless and admin-heavy as possible.

In France, by contrast, the system is relatively streamlined. Yes, there are still rules and regulations, but at least they don’t feel like they’ve been invented by someone who resents the existence of horse racing altogether.

A trainer can focus on what they should be doing—getting horses fit and winning races—instead of spending half their life filling out forms, navigating endless entry conditions, and praying that their owners aren’t flagged by some Kafkaesque affordability check.

5. The British Racing Decline: Death by Bookmakers and Bad Decisions

Let’s be honest: British racing isn’t in crisis—it’s in managed decline, cheerfully overseen by a governing body that seems more interested in keeping bookmakers happy than in ensuring the long-term health of the sport.

Bookmakers now dictate the schedule, the funding, and the direction of the game. Racing’s dependency on betting revenue has turned the sport into a glorified side-show for the gambling industry, with low-grade all-weather racing taking priority over competitive fields and genuine quality.

In Britain, a day at the races often feels like a backdrop to a relentless bombardment of betting adverts. In France, it still feels like a sport.

So, when a trainer like Amy Murphy chooses to relocate, she’s not just making a business decision—she’s making a statement. A statement that says:

• I’d rather be part of a racing culture that values the sport.

• I’d rather work in a system where prize money rewards success, not just survival.

• I’d rather not be held hostage by an industry that treats its most dedicated participants like an inconvenience.

In Conclusion: The Exodus Continues

Amy Murphy is unlikely to be the last trainer to look at the current state of British racing and say, Non, merci. The exodus of talent to France is a damning indictment of the way the sport is being run on this side of the Channel.

If British racing doesn’t wake up soon, it will find that it has become a second-rate product—full of races nobody wants to watch, prize money nobody can live on, and a landscape where the best trainers and owners have all fled somewhere that actually values them.

So, as Amy Murphy embarks on her French adventure, perhaps the real question isn’t "Why would a trainer relocate to France?"—but rather, "Why would any of them choose to stay in Britain?"