5 Days in Harrogate - Day One

What a roller-coaster the first day of our trip turned out to be. It started well enough and we were ready to start our journey from home shortly after 8a.m. There were no problems on the tube but when we reached Kings Cross station things started to go awry. Our train to Leeds, where we would change trains to reach our destination, was cancelled along with many other trains due to a points failure at Stevenage. Pandemónium is the best way I can describe the situation at Kings Cross as more and more trains were cancelled or delayed. We were advised to take the next train to Leeds but nobody could say when that would arrive or on what platform but we were very fortunate that we look very old, more Pat than me, and vulnerable because a very nice member of the assistance staff took us under his wing. He found a place for us to sit and when our replacement train arrived he personally took us to the train and found us seats for the journey, albeit we had to sit separately. In addition he arranged for another member of staff to meet us at Leeds who made sure we were on the right train to complete our journey. Although not as comfortable or as relaxing as we would have liked, under the circumstances we can consider ourselves very lucky to have been looked after so well. The only real problem on the train to Leeds was when a piece of luggage on the overhead rack fell on Pat’s head. Fortunately there was no damage to the luggage.

At last we pulled into Harrogate train station approximately 90 minutes later than expected. It was noticably cooler than when we left London and less sunny and later we experienced a few minor showers. Although we had no street plan (couldn’t find it) I was able to remember exactly the route to our B&B from our visit nearly four years ago. Thank goodness for my internal satnav system.

Once settled into our appointed room Pat and I agreed (that’s a first) that we have a bit of a rest before making our way to the nearest alcoholic refreshment establishment and then onto the Vivido restaurant (we dined there on our last visit) to book our evening meal. In keeping with the rest of the day the restaurant was closed for no apparent reason so we licked our wounds and retreated to the next pub for consolation.

It was decided between us that we turned to Plan B, which didn’t exactly exist, and try and find the Weatherspoon pub I had been told and read about because of the wonderful building it was housed in. From the hearsay I was convinced I had a very good idea as to where it was located but on this occasion my internal satnav went on the blink. Having drawn a blank on our first attempt and still not having a street plan we asked various members of the local population for directions and gradually got nearer and nearer to our destination but still not quite there. By this time we were both physically spent especially Pat as her legs were getting quite painful. Finally I left her on a bench while I finished off our trek but to my dismay the last gentleman I asked for directions told me it was just around the corner but it was closed for renovation works. My heart sank and I dreaded going back to Pat after all the miles (perhaps a minor exaggeration but it was a long way) and the pain she had endured that it was all in vain. I returned to her with a heavy heart to give her the news which did not go down well but at least she had collected £3.65 in donations while she had been waiting. Plan C was decided by Pat without any discussion. Fish and chips on the way back to the B and B at a restaurant called Bradley’s which is an upmarket restaurant and the meal was very nice although not what we had originally intended. Time was getting on as Pat pondered a dessert only to find that the restaurant closed at 8.30p.m and it was now 8.45p.m.

Having left Bradley’s we were too tired to make any further stops and returned to the B and B where we collapsed in a state of exhaustion. It had been a long and arduous day.