Saturday 2 July 2016

Day 62: Harrogate

I know Harrogate is nowhere near the coast but sometimes it good to deviate from the master plan.
Valley Park is simply beautiful. I walked through there again today to get into the town centre. For some reason they have a corner that is dedicated to New Zealand.

 





I wasn’t the only one enjoying the lull between rain. These young mums were doing some sort of yoga stretching outside the pavilion.


The park benches are commemorative.



Some flower beds are formally planted. One was planted as four monograms representing famous writers: Shakespeare, Beatrix Potter, Charlotte Bronte and Roald Dahl.




Others are very informal.


There are several historic looking buildings in the park which are used as cafes and meeting places.




It has a skate park for children and young people, tennis courts and pitch and putt. There is also a sort of platform area where I presume they have concerts and bands.

As you leave the park directly in front of you is the Royal Pump Room Museum .



It used to be where you could drink the sulphur waters from the spring, for your health and see and be seen. You can still meet friends and socialise there, but in this age of Health and Safety executives no-one is allowed to drink the water. I was allowed to smell it however and reeled from the odour of distinctly rotten eggs. Smelt exactly like those stink bombs children used to love setting off in public places.

Now the pump room is a museum relating to Harrogate’s history as a spa town.

Nowadays where residents are more likely to go to see and be seen and socialise is the world famous Betty’s tearoom. It was 11am and already there was a queue.



In this day and age of risiiiing numbers of people with gluten intolerances I was disappointed that Betty’s is stuck in a time warp and could only offer me a Florentine or a macaron but the cakes and sandwiches and quiches they did have on offer looked scrummy.


The man next to me let me photograph his chocolate éclair which was ‘gilded’



Betty’s originated in 1919 by a young Swiss confectioner called Frederick Belmont. No-one could tell me where the name comes from. Not very Swiss sounding is it? The young lady on the door suggested that it was a bit of a PR thing and that Betty may or may not have existed at all. There was one suggestion that when the idea of the tea room was being first mooted a child called Betty interrupted the meeting and they simply chose her name. Anyone know any different?
Since my neighbour was obviously not about to share his éclair with me and it had stopped raining at last. I went back into the town.

Qiuying had suggested I look at the Victorian Turkish Baths in Parliament Street. I did look. And having looked left. There was nothing you could see behind the door unless you were booked in to undergo the experience.  

I went back in. I asked what was involved and swiftly returned to my car to grab my swimming costume. The men only sessions have recently been banned because of  ‘inappropriate behaviour’.  I leave it to your imagination. So now sessions are women only or mixed sessions and in the mixed sessions swimwear is not optional!


It was interesting. Harrogate has one of the few remaining Victorian Turkish Baths in the country. It has high ceilings, Moorish stencils, lots of dark wood and red velvet curtains.
photos

Look at the loos!



A young male attendant gave me some big fluffy towels, a white bathrobe and took me on a tour of the bath and explained the ritual involved. There are chambers of differing temperatures, a steam room, a very cold plunge pool and massage and other treatments of various sorts also on offer. There is an area with loungers where you can cool off before going in for more heat and sweat and chill. I skipped the chill bit and had warm showers instead. I knew if I went in the plunge pool my screaming would get me slung out.  


In for a penny, in for a pound. I decided to go the whole hog and have a massage as well.
It was agony. Felt like torture. If she had asked, I’d have told her everything I knew! So glad when she stopped. Are they always a variation of S and M?  It was supposed to be relaxing.
On the way back to my car, clean but feeling definitely bruised from the pummelling I visited a couple of independent shops. There are lots of these in Harrogate.

Meet Lizzie Woods. She is an artist and a potter.


Lizzie was in charge of The Sutcliff gallery for two weeks and exhibits here and elsewhere. She recently submitted a painting for selection to take part in an exhibition and was surprised to learn, not only had her work been selected, the organisers expected her to fill a wall. She managed and was thrilled when the mayor of Harrogate bought one at the opening. All her work sold. She was very enthusiastic and informed about other artist’s work. I absolutely loved the surrealist work of Neil Simone whose recent works are paintings within paintings. Lizzie showed me a print called a Port Decanter and similar to the concept of a ship in a bottle, it was a bottle holding the port of Whitby.  You can see his work here; neilsimone.myshopify.com

Next door to the gallery is a fabulous womens’ clothes and accessories shop called Rose Velvet. Very individual style.


A sweet manufacturer called Farrah is also based in Harrogate.





What else did I discover about Harrogate?
  • In 1982 it hosted the Eurovision Song Contest
  • It hosts an annual Crime Writers Festival. Agatha Christie was discovered in one of the town’s hotels in 1926 having gone AWOL from her Surrey home and setting off a frantic nationwide search.
  • Last August the BBC reported that according to Rightmove, Harrogate had polled as the happiest place to live in Britain for the third year in a row.
So now we know. Certainly my wonderful host family The Middletons love living here.
Tomorrow its Southend and Liverpool. 

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