Forty Eight Hours in Harrogate

For the past many years, each November we have attended at least one, and often several, of the gigs put on as part of the EFG London Jazz Festival. As a result, Amanda has had to forego the delights of The Knitting & Stitching Show held in the same week each year in Harrogate. This year, in an act of uncharacteristic magnanimity, I offered to do without jazzy delights, so Amanda could go and look at a lot of bits of cloth and knitting... Of course, I made this offer long before I knew who was actually playing at the Jazz Festival; I found out later that there were in fact three exciting gigs I would have gone to... Ho hum - but a promise is a promise. 

In a state of excitement, Amanda contacted her bessie mate and partner in crime, L, tickets to the Show were ordered, and hotel rooms duly booked. (Since I'd never been to Harrogate I said I would tag along - to the town but not the Show - as this would also give me a chance to catch up with L, whom we hadn't seen in over a year.) 

The day of departure arrived, the car was packed and we were off. Well, no - not quite. Although our car has a built-in GPS, we object to the annual costs of updating the maps, and in any event we find Google Maps a superior system. 

Accordingly, we habitually connect one of our phones to the car and then use Android Auto to control Google Maps through the interface in the infotainment system. Except - not today. No matter what I did with either of our phones, I could get nothing out of Google Maps. Since the start of the journey was a straightforward run up the M1, I told Amanda to start driving, and I would figure out what was wrong as we went along. 

Except - no matter what I did, GM kept insisting that the phone was off-line. I disconnected, dialled our home phone and got our answerphone - nothing wrong with the phone or the voice service. For the next hour or so I tried repeatedly to get a data connection of any sort - it seemed clear that the BT/EE data service was down. We had a map-book in the boot, so knew we had a backup, but that was hardly going to help with the complexities of the back streets of Harrogate when it came time to locate our hotel. 

Inspiration! When Amanda replaced her phone some months ago because of an issue with the USB charging connection and dodgy battery, I had swapped out her BT SIM with an O2 Pay As You Go one and tossed the old phone in the glove-box for possible use in emergencies (or as a burner…). It quickly became apparent that there was a good reason for getting the new phone - the old one was, by now, entirely bereft of life, and no amount of fiddling with a charging cable could get the battery above 1%. However, I removed the O2 SIM and put it into my phone - at last, a signal, and Google Maps sprang into life. (My sister's reaction upon hearing this story: "WHO has a SPARE SIM with them?!" - you'd think she'd know me by now).

A quick search for a suitable 'service availability' app and I confirmed that the BT/EE network was 'down' for many customers. We continued on our way using our backup system - both to guide us and to communicate with L, who had arrived a couple of hours ahead of us. Eventually the BT/EE service was restored and all was good - and the O2 SIM is now permanently installed in my phone as a backup. 

The Premier Inn was duly located and an excited and familiar face appeared at a window above the "drop-off" parking spaces - cue much delight and schoolgirl antics as Amanda and L greeted each other. 

The view from our room of the somewhat more majestic (and expensive) DoubleTree Hilton Harrogate Majestic Hotel & Spa, the grounds of which provide a very pleasant and convenient shortcut to both the Convention Centre and the town centre.

Booked in, unpacked and settled in, we met in the bar for a brief discussion about where to eat that night, and agreed that we would try Rubins.  A short walk - past the Convention Centre, where the girls did their best to contain their excitement - and we received a warm welcome.

L seemed very happy with her "special", which consisted of meat in a spicy sauce housed in a wedge of Turkish bread that could easily have sunk the Titanic:

Amanda and I were equally pleased with our moussaka (though I could not break the habit of a lifetime, and had mine with chips...):

Amanda and I also enjoyed dark chocolate truffle torte to follow (not pictured), but L was impressively abstemious.

Back to the hotel, to chat in the bar, where I guess 90% of the patrons (and indeed, hotel guests) were clearly there for "the Show".  Amanda thinks that all jazzers are greying, bearded old geezers with glasses and cropped hair; I now have my own view of those who enjoy "crafting shows" - I shall keep my own counsel on that, but suffice it to say they were EVERYWHERE over the next 48 hours...

The girls planned their next day, starting with breakfast in a local cafe:

followed by much excitement throughout the day:

I, on the other hand, had a lie-in and then enjoyed a pleasant stroll around the town.  I say "pleasant stroll", but in reality the first road I chose to walk up turned out to be so steep, and I so out of condition, that I had to take to showing tremendous interest in virtually every other shop window I passed, pausing to catch my breath and waiting for my heart to stop fibrillating...

Eventually I got into my stride and spent an enjoyable morning wandering around and orientating myself.  After a while I made my way to the famous Bettys and joined the queue.  Within a few minutes the female maitre d' supervising the intake, on learning that I was a party of one, escorted me through the doors to a very acceptable window table.

For brunch: egg mayonnaise sandwiches with a side order of rösti bites with lemon mayonnaise, washed down with sparkling elderflower cordial:

and to round it off, a nice pot of Earl Grey:

In the time it took me to eat my meal, the queue - perhaps only a dozen or so people when I entered - had extended to the corner of the street and then as far again up the side street, and then dwindled down to half that number as I left:

More walking and mooching around the shops, and then back to the hotel for a rest and to await the arrival of the girls.  By the time they had returned, rested and freshened up, the temperature outside had dropped significantly and we were all grateful that we had earlier agreed that we would not venture too far afield after such an energetic day.

On our way back from Rubins the previous evening we had spotted Vivido, and a little research had confirmed that this would be a good place to eat on the second night, and a table had been duly booked.

Another warm welcome, and we spent more time sussing out which of our fellow diners were in town because of "the Show":

Food was ordered.  For me, lasagne with a side of sauté potatoes:

while the girls both opted for Salmon Fresco Pappardelle:

I finished with chocolate fudge cake and ice cream:

while Amanda, having late in life discovered a liking for crème brûlée, indulged in one and declared it to be one of the best she had eaten.  L once again refrained - probably the better to enjoy the limoncello offered 'on the house' to round off the meal:

On the way back to the hotel we stopped to take advantage of the illuminated columns at the entrance to the Convention Centre:

Back at the hotel bar we sat and chatted - happy but tired:

Since L was booked on a train early the next morning we said our goodbyes in the lift on our way up to our rooms, before parting company.

In the morning we also rose early, checked out, packed the car and made our way to Bettys, where we joined the queue (numbers 5 and 6), some time before they opened at 09.00, to secure a good table for breakfast:

 In fact, we chose the table at which I had eaten brunch the day before:

Excellent freshly-squeezed orange juice:

Followed by, for Amanda, scrambled eggs on a toasted muffin with bacon:

and for me, Swiss Breakfast Rösti, made with grated potato and gruyère cheese, served with dry-cured bacon, tomato, mushroom and a poached egg:

I genuinely cannot remember the last time I had eaten a poached egg prior to this, which probably means I had not yet left home - that is, 50+ years ago.  This was one of those meals that lingers in the memory for all the right reasons, and which guaranteed a return visit if ever we are in Harrogate again.

As I had done the day before, we followed up with Earl Grey Tea and then wandered out into the bitter cold.

More mooching around and window shopping followed by actual shopping by Amanda at Seasalt, after which we strolled back to the hotel for quick drink and a rest before picking up the car and heading home - this time untroubled by mobile outages or any other such problems.  

As we left I reflected on the fact that this had been one of our most enjoyable excursions for quite some time, and that I might not be averse to repeating it - though I also resolved not to tell the boss that until I had at least seen the gig list for next year's jazz festival...