Harrogate was great.
No problems with the bus in either direction, yay!
And the sun came out even before we left Otley. It would have been double-plus-good if we'd had the same weather the whole time Mum was up, but even just having it on one day showed her how God's Own County can look.
Harrogate is very
very, darling.
But in a Yorkshire way. It's a bit like the Stockbroker Belt in terms of shops and money. These are places where the main money comes in from elsewhere - the husbands go off to work insane hours for insane amounts of money and the wives stay at home and be as effortlessly attractive as I am. Except that I don't think anyone in Harrogate is commuting to London. It's a bit precious, but precious in a Northern way, which is more down to earth. Genteel.
No-one annoyed me. That's something, what with me being a bitter old crone and all.
But of course I was with my Mum, who I've missed terribly. And we were there to have tea. And the sun was shining. I'd have had to be a dried up old cherry indeed to be grumpy.
We had tea and toast in Wethspoons before we left, even though Mum had already had breakfast the greedy fat pig
Well she deserves it [ETA I meant she deserves a treat]. And you can't eat toast in front of someone without making them hungry! Also, it meant she got some little packets of marmalade; her only complaint about the B&B is that they don't have marmalade, only jam.
Mum in the sunshine.
Harrogate street scene.