Racing: Apart from a handful of races, the quality at Ballybrit is poor. But Brian O'Connor says there's no point trying to figure out why the festival works - it just does.

It's that time of year again when the country seems to take an intense interest on what is happening on the side of a hill in Galway with newspapers, radio and TV gorging themselves on tales of betting, specially imported hookers, Fianna Fáil tents, spectacular alcohol consumption and, oh yeah, horses.

It's also that time of year when the question as to why Galway race week should actually have this hold on the collective consciousness is thrown about in a way that suggests some logical answer can somehow be teased out.

But anyone who has had any sort of exposure to the Ballybrit social phenomenon knows the question is redundant. There is no definitive reason why it works. It just does. Galway novices should remember that acceptance really is the only way to make it to the other side of the week in one piece.

Mind you, the whole roistering, packed in, exhausting shindig remains a puzzle that will continue to nag and demand some kind of answer, even to just give us something to talk about. Other tracks have inflated the "festival" balloon over their meetings and seen it leak around their ears.

But Galway continues to grow remorselessly, and at a rate that makes an additional eighth day tacked on to the festival seem almost inevitable.

That's a thought to send the libidinous and thirsty into eighth heaven. But remarkable as it may seem to fans of the Ballybrit bash, other people might actually blanch at the idea. In fact, some people will travel west on Monday, negotiate the traffic nightmare that is Loughrea, see those famous stone walls and wince at the week ahead the way Ian Thorpe does trying to get into size eight shoes.

Because whatever about the social phenomenon at Galway, the actual racing side of things can sometimes beggar belief.

The festival's big races, Wednesday's Hewlett Packard Plate and Thursday's Guinness Hurdle, are both big-money jump handicaps that are among the most desired prizes in the racing calendar. But much of the padding that fills out the rest of the week could also sub for Pavarotti.

Large fields of average handicappers trying their brains out around a roller-coaster track that can bite at even the most alert jockey is normally the sort of scenario that sends serious punters screaming from the betting ring. But not at Galway. Up to 30 million will change hands next week from almost 200,000 paying customers. People just can't seem to get enough of it.

"It's hard to understand. Usually you only bet when you have a fair chance and there are as few dangers as possible. But at Galway they are betting at the most dangerous place of all," says the former champion jockey Christy Roche who also trained the Plate winner Grimes in 2001. That doesn't colour his memory enough, though, to banish the memories of when he was riding.

"The track is a bit of a nightmare. I always aimed to get out of the week in one piece, and maybe with a winner or two. It was just so hit and miss," Roche says.

"You get all those seven furlong handicaps, full of second class handicappers, and if you're not drawn in the first five off the rails you might as well stay at home."

But even with a decent draw the reality of race riding at Galway still makes it a real test for a jockey.

"Normally, if you're on the best horse, you try to stay out of trouble. At Galway there are two ways to do that. You can go up there in the first three. But if you do that you're usually going too fast. Or you take your time, go round and end up going so wide you're off the track.

"Coming down that hill into the dip in those large handicaps was always hard with those in front getting tired and coming back and others trying to make ground. But that's the mystery of the place.

"Every race is really different. Nothing is guaranteed. Except that the men with the satchels will come out on top."

Not surprisingly, bookmakers look forward to Galway the way Pavlov's mutt jumped at the bell. Galway is the big week of the year for the men on the boxes. It's no coincidence then that stories of huge wins for small money by ordinary mug punters usually start to appear in the press around now. It all adds up and there is something of a betting frenzy that develops at Galway.

"If there is a definitive answer to why it all works, then I don't know it," admits Willie Power who is one of the highest profile bookmakers in the ring. "The whole week progresses, develops a momentum as it goes along and by Thursday we're on the crest of the wave.

"People just get wrapped up in it. They're going back to their hotels at night, hearing how someone won such an such and suddenly their stake seems small. So they increase it."

Some increase more than others. Power says it is very possible that single six-figure bets will be seen next week, but it's not only the big players that can sway the prices.

"There could be six to eight guys that can move a price in the ring on their own, but Galway is a unique market," Power says.

"You get a lot of businessmen who are, for example, back from the USA and they want to give it a lash. And then there are the huge public gambles.

"Cloone River last year was the only horse anyone wanted to back in the hurdle. It didn't matter what his price was, they just wanted to be able to say they backed him."

Quite why people want to bet so much on this kind of racing and yet will conspicuously ignore the attractions of Group One highlights like last weekend's Oaks remains a puzzle. Less than 8,500 turned up to watch some of the best fillies in Europe.

Almost 40,000 will squeeze into Ballybrit on Thursday to see a collection of horses, most of whom wouldn't be quick enough to breathe Shawanda's exhaust fumes.

"I don't understand it myself, but everyone's different. It's got this holiday appeal. People go down there for a days, go on the piss, back a few horses and go home broke. Outside of the racing it's a good town," says David Wachman, one of the country's top young trainers.

No doubt this year will be no different. The attraction of the Galway races is now self-perpetuating. It's got a self-publicising life of its own. The more stores about the drinking, the betting and the carousing, the more people want to go.

"It's a very exciting week. You never know what's coming. That's the beauty of it. And people just love to have a winner at Galway," says Willie Power.

Best to simply accept that then and go along with the flow. After all, everyone else is.