Thursday 27 September 2018

Beja: Capital of Baixo Alentejo

The Low-Key Delights of a Small Regional Capital

26/09/2018

Portugal

The small city of Beja sits on a low hill in the southern Alentejo plain. Driving down the relatively new (and hence relatively straight) IP2 from Castro Verde, the gleaming white city can be seen 20km away.

Beja in the centre of Portugal's Baixo Alentejo
The Pousada Convento, Beja
It is, though, a small hill on a flat, parched plain, the final climb being almost imperceptible. With a little difficulty we located the Pousada Convento and on our way to reception, passed two soldiers filling sandbags. Even our notoriously insular press would have reported a civil war in Portugal (probably on page 18) and as flooding seemed improbable a sensible explanation eluded us.
The Pousada Convento, Beja - apparently defended by artillery

This was our first stay in a pousada, a hotel chain set up in 1941 modelled on the Spanish paradors. Government run until subcontracted to the Pestana Group in 2003, pousadas exist to provide comfortable accommodation in historic buildings and promote local gastronomy.

We were soon settled in a monk's cell in the former Convent of São Francisco (and the obvious error in that sentence isn’t an error). The convent was founded in 1268 for the Franciscan Order of the Friars Minor.

A corridor full of upgraded monk's cells, Pousada Covento, Beja

Monks live in monasteries, worshipping God within their (often well-funded) communities. Friars take the same vows of obedience, chastity and poverty - they originally lived by begging – but remain involved with the world, preaching or ministering to the sick. They live together in looser communities traditionally called ‘convents.’ Only in the 19th century, having lost touch with their Catholic roots, did English speakers start using ‘convent’ specifically for nunneries. I enjoy visiting foreign countries to learn English.

Our cell had been upgraded since the monks left, being now unsuitable for those who have taken a vow of poverty.

It had been a long day - we had risen at 4 for an early flight – and, in Portugal at least, exceedingly hot. Leaving the convent we found a café, sat in the shade and rehydrated (ie we drank beer). At 5 pm the temperature, according to the pharmacy across the road, was 33°. Beja is one of Portugal’s warmest cities, but even here such temperatures in late September are a talking point.

We returned to the convent for a nap before dinner, passing The Monument to the Unknown Political Prisoner, by Jorge Vieira who donated it to the city in 1994. Vieira (1933-98) spent his later years in Beja and is highly respected within Portugal, though little known internationally.

The Unknown Political Prisoner by Jorge Vieira, Beja

Seated on the Pousada’s terrace we dined on Alentejo specialities. A rain shower came from nowhere, though the temperature never dropped. Unmoved beneath an umbrella more used to keeping off sun than rain we waited, confident that it would pass, and indeed it did; long before we had finished eating all had dried up. Lynne's grilled porco negro, from free-range Iberian black pigs, was excellent and her portion of migas, the traditional accompaniment of bread mashed with olive oil and (in this case) asparagus was mercifully small - it is very filling. My favourite bochechas - pork cheeks stewed in red wine - were also delicious. The chef had popped a pear on the plate, perhaps attempting to elevate 'peasant food' to something it is not. It would have been a poor idea even if the pear had not been cinnamon-ed to inedibility. Our dinner could have been eaten in many local restaurants, but pousadas must justify their higher prices with extra touches, sometimes misjudged. Traditional dishes should not be messed with, there is a reason why they are as they are. We also enjoyed a bottle of Bacalhoa's fine Tinto da Anfora, maybe even worth its steep mark-up.

Dinner at the Pousada Convento, Beja
27/09/2018

Commemorating World War One, Beja

Apart from filling sandbags, servicemen had spent yesterday setting out the Pousada’s former church, usually a lounge, for a memorial service. The convent closed in the 19th century and the building was used by the military; they had returned as part of the 1918 centenary commemorations.
The former church of the Pousada Convento, Beja, set out for a commemorative service
After breakfast we discovered the exhibition in the cloister, which finally made sense of the sandbags. Germany declared war on Portugal in 1916, though skirmishes in Portugal’s African territories predated this.


Mock WWI machine gun emplacement, Pousada Convento, Beja
In addition to further fighting in Africa, it is not widely known that Portugal deployed 55,000 soldiers to the trenches in France.
Portuguese troops in France 1917 or 18
Photo from exhibition, Pousada Convento, Beja

Suitably enlightened we set off to explore Beja.



Roman Beja

The pousada is just outside the city walls so we entered through the remains of the Mértola Gate before turning left in search of Beja's oldest vestiges.

Into old Beja through the Mertola Gate
Today, Beja, with 22,000 inhabitants is the largest population centre and administrative capital of Baixo Alentejo (Lower Alentejo), a subdivision of Portugal’s vast but sparsely populated Alentejo region. Similarly, Roman Beja, known as Pax Julia after Julius Caesar conquered concluded a peace with the Lusitanian tribes, was the capital of Southern Lusitania.

Street art near the Nucleo Museologico
At first glance the 'nucleo museologico' is a modern building full of empty space….

The Nucleo Museologico, Beja
…but a small part of Roman Beja lies beneath the glass floor. Over a metre below current ground level Roman wells, walkways and hypocausts have been carefully excavated.

Beneath the floor at the Nucleo Museoligico, Beja
Around the perimeter is a display of finds from every period of Beja’s history starting with the stone tools of the region’s first inhabitants.

Roman bowl, Nucleo Museologico, Beja
I have no idea how they used this, but it has a certain charm
We left the 'nucleo' past more public art - I am not sure I see the point of this one.

Public art, Beja
Around 30BC, during the reign of Augustus, the municipium was renamed Pax Augusta, and so things remained for over 400 years. Around 410, when the Visigoths were sacking Rome, the Vandals, Alans and Suebi crossed the Pyrenees.  Last year, when we were slightly further east in Mértola, the arrival of the Alans led to 300 years of decline, Beja may have been luckier. The Vandals and Alans were soon pushed into North Africa by the Visigoths who expanded their kingdom in southern France until they ruled the whole Iberian Peninsula.

Visigothic Beja

We visited the Museu Visigotico after lunch but I will follow the history of Beja rather than the history of our visit.

The museum is at the north end of town, beyond the castle and outside the wall. We exited past the Roman arch at the Évora Gate, not through it, as the modern road exploits a far larger gap in the wall. I wonder if the arch can properly be called Roman, it has disappeared and been rebuilt several times since antiquity.

The so-called Roman arch, Evora Gate, Beja
The Museu Visigotico is housed in the former church of Santo Amaro, itself said to be a rare Visigothic survivor, but again redesigned and rebuilt so often that little of the original remains.

Apparently, I have underrated the Visigoths. While our forebears built with wood and thatch as the remains of Roman civilisation decayed around them, the museum showed the Visigoths as sophisticated builders and stonemasons.

 Stonework, Beja Visigothic Museum
In 507 the Visigoths lost their Gaulish lands to the Franks but continued to rule most of Iberia. Around 590 they abandoned Arianism, became mainstream Christians and gradually assimilated with their Romano-Iberian subjects.

Column, Beja Visigothic Museum
All went well until the Moors arrived in the early 8th century. They would rule most of Iberia for the next 500 years.

Pax Augusta had become Paca under the Visigoth, and as Arabic makes no distinction between P and B it is easy to see how it became Beja under the Moors. Little else remains from the centuries of Moorish rule


Medieval Beja

The Reconquista reached Beja in 1162 when Fernão Gonçalves took the city for King Afonso I. The Moors fought back and the Fronteira-Mor (Frontier Captain) Gonçalo Mendes da Maia, a veteran warrior known as O Lidador (The Hard-Working), was killed in battle in 1170 allegedly aged 90, becoming a hero in both his home town of Maia (now a suburb of Porto) and Beja. The city was retaken by the Moors in 1175 and remained in Muslim hands until being finally retaken by King Sancho II in 1234.

The consequence of being so long on the front line were dire and the depopulated city took several centuries to recover, though on the plus side, their fort was developed into a full-blown castle. A tower was built on the wall in 1307, and then a keep, though that took 40 years to complete.

Beja castle wall and keep
 We walked round the walls, enjoying a good view of Beja’s 16th century cathedral...

Beja Cathedral
….before entering the keep, guarded by a modern statue of O Lidador.

O Lidador stands guard in the keep, Beja castle
From here a spiral staircase leads up the tower. Medieval staircases usually turn clockwise, so that a (right-handed) defender’s sword arm is unencumbered by the central pillar. Beja Castle has a rare anti-clockwise staircase.

Anti-clockwise spiral staircase, Beja castle keep
The stairs took us to an octagonal upper room with an impressively vaulted ceiling.

A finely vaulted octagonal room in Beja keep
(what do you mean I should have kept my head out of the way?)
The balcony outside has many machicolations, holes in the floor through which crossbows could be shot or attackers pelted with stones or drenched in boiling oil. ‘Machicolations’ derives from the Old French for ‘wound-neck’ while the superficially similar Portuguese ‘mata-cães’ means ‘dog-killer', an unflattering reference to their foes. We were surrounded by much new stone. The castle was closed for eighteen months in 2014/5 after a balcony collapsed and we were undoubtedly standing on a new balcony with machicolations no-one ever expects to use.

Further non-spiral (so presumably later) stairs took us to the roof. The castle stands at the highest point of Beja's small hill and if you then climb a 37m tower you have commanding views over the old town...

Old Beja from the top of the castle keep
...and over the newer districts and the countryside beyond. Despite the long, hot, dry summers the soil is fertile and Baixa Alentejo is the breadbasket of Portugal so the town is surrounded by grain silos, the towers like an outer defensive ring beyond the city wall.

Outer Beja and the countryside beyond.
Half a turn to the left and I would have made my point with a line of grain silos, but here there is only one block

Lunch by the Pillory, Beja

Perhaps we should break for lunch here.

We ate in the Praça da República, in the centre of the old city at a café near the pillory. We usually think of a pillory as a ‘stand-up stocks’, but this is just a pillar to which those deemed worthy of ritual humiliating could be attached. It is a grand pillar, a wooden post would function just as well, but the quality and decorations remind everyone who had the power and the wealth.

Pillory, Praca da Republica, Beja
At one of the tables in the picture above we chose the lunchtime deal: chicken salad and a beer for €4.95. They seemed a little confused about the difference between a salad and a fruit salad - lettuce, tomato, pineapple, apple and mango made an unusual combination - but we enjoyed it. And it had been a hot morning so we had another beer, not for pleasure, obviously, but because hydration is so important.

Late Medieval Beja


Just because Beja was now in Christian Portugal it did not mean its Moorish (and Jewish) populations disappeared.

There is still an area known as the 'Moorish Quarter' just inside the city wall near the Moura Gate (named because it faces the city of Moura).

City wall near the Moura Gate, Beja
 It is a few streets of small, well-maintained, whitewashed cottages with colourful hanging baskets.

Moorish quarter, Beja
One doorway has a Moorish look, but that could have constructed last week for all I know.

Moorish style doorway, Moorish quarter, Beja
Just north of the Moorish Quarter is a fine old gentleman’s town house. When we first came to Portugal in the 1980s these so often looked sad and neglected. They are beautiful buildings and it is good to see their owners can now afford to take pride in them.

Gentleman's town house, Beja
All Jews were expelled from Spain in 1492. Under pressure from his Spanish wife, Isabella of Aragon (sister of Catherine of Aragon, Henry VIII’s first wife) King Manuel I decreed in 1497 that all Jews and Moors must convert to Catholicism or leave Portugal without their children. Those who did convert were often treated with suspicion. Allegedly some Jews marked their houses with signs showing they still secretly followed Judaism. If any of that can still be seen in the old Jewish Quarter below the castle wall, we missed it.

Jewish quarter, Beja
Early Modern Beja

The other side of the castle is the medieval chapel of Nossa Senhora de Piedade. The building is 13th century, the friendly and talkative guardian told us, but not the contents.  When the Pousada Convento was taken over by the military, the interior of the church – the one we had seen set out for a memorial service this morning - was moved here. 13th century frescoes hide behind this baroque overcoat.

The contents of the church of the Convent of Sao Fransicso
Nossa Senhora ds Piedade, Beja

Beja Regional Museum

We now arrive at the last stop in this tour through Beja's history, though a much earlier one in our day, and it features more fussy baroque. The Convent of Our Lady of the Conception was founded in 1456, but since 1927 has housed the Beja Regional Museum. It was formerly the home of the 'Poor Clares', a female part of the Franciscan order, but a glance at the contents suggest they may have interpreted 'poor' in a way few would understand. The carved wood, gold leaf and inlaid marble altar (all impossible to dust, which is why nobody has for a century of so) are 17th and 18th centuries.

Church of Our Lady of the Conception, Beja Regional Museum
There are some fine 17th century Azulejos, this one, according the brochure shows the birth, life and death of John the Baptist, though either the brochure is wrong, or I misinterpreted it….

Azulejo allegedly of life of John the Baptist, Beja Regional Museum
…and two opulent silver plinths for ferrying saints through the streets.

Silver saint transporter, Beja Regional Museum
We ambled round the cloister, viewing the exhibits in the rooms off. The extensive collection of Portuguese, Spanish and Flemish oil paintings seem, to my amateur eye, to be of variable quality.....

Spanish and Portuguese oil paintings, Beja Regional Museum
....but the chapter house was impressive.

Chapter House, Beja Regional Museum
Upstairs is an exhibition of the finds of archaeologist Fernando Nunes Ribeiro and a window.

I am unsure if the window is the original or a replica but it is a literary cause célèbre. In 1665(ish) 25-year old nun Mariana Alcoforado caught sight of French officer Noël Bouton, later Marquis of Chamilly through this window (or the original) and fell in love with him. She wrote a series of passionate love letters first published in Paris in 1669 and in print ever since. The nun and her innamorato were undoubtedly real people, and although many nuns had vocations, convents were also used for parking surplus girls or taming wild ones. Published in French rather than Portuguese the letters are widely believed to be a work of fiction by Gabriel-Joseph de la Vergne, though in 2006 Canadian writer Myriam Cyr published a book arguing that Mariana Alcoforado was indeed the author. Had I had known all this at the time I would have photographed the window.

And so ended our exploration of Beja, a small, friendly, relaxed city with no major sights, but more than enough of interest to keep us occupied for a day.

An aperitif before dinner

That evening we dined at a small. cheap restaurant. Though far from the sea, by Portuguese standards, Lynne said her dorada was excellent, but my pork Alentejo-style was disappointing, there were too few clams, and too much chew in the meat, but it was cheap and I suppose you get what you pay for!

Next day we headed south to the Algarve and a fortnight's holiday.


….immense.

Thursday 6 September 2018

Harrogate and Knaresborough

North to Harrogate to Celebrate Lynne's Birthday

05-Sept-2018

We broke our journey in Derbyshire, dropping in on the redoubtable Bess of Hardwick.

Hardwick Hall and Stainsby Mill

Hardwick Hall, built 1590-7, Derbyshire

Bess was born in 1527 the daughter of a yeoman famer who died when she was young. Four judiciously chosen marriages, sharp business acumen and, I suspect, a ruthless streak enabled to her to rise from relative poverty to become the Countess of Shrewsbury and the second richest woman in England, after Queen Elizabeth I. She built Hardwick Hall, now owned by the National Trust, beside her childhood home – now that was making a statement!

The Long Gallery, Hardwick Hall, Derbyshire

Her descendants became Earls, then Dukes of Devonshire. They settled in Bess's other Derbyshire residence, Chatsworth House, and they are still there.

Stainsby Mill is a 19th century watermill on the Hardwick Estate. It has been restored to full working order by the National Trust.

Stainsby Mill, Hardwick Estate, Derbyshire

Harrogate

Harrogate
North Yorkshire

We reached Harrogate in time to catch the traffic so Lynne’s phone routed us round the town centre enabling us to catch the school run instead - which might have been worse. It meant, though, that we drove the full length of The Stray, 200 acres of open land, dotted with the wells that made Harrogate famous. Given to the town in 1778 by the Duchy of Lancaster, The Stray curls around the eastern edge of the urban centre giving the impression that Harrogate is all large houses and open spaces.

Crown Hotel, Harrogate

300 years old, and right in the centre of town, the Crown Hotel is typically Harrogate.

The Crown Hotel, Harrogate

After checking in…

Lobby, Crown Hotel, Harrogate

…we claimed our complimentary cream tea...

Cream Tea, Crown Hotel, Harrogate

...then took a stroll to orientate ourselves. At the appropriate time we presented ourselves for dinner – also part of the deal. The menu was stuffed with pub favourites - battered haddock, giant Yorkshire pudding, baked salmon – but more interesting offerings lurked among the comfort food. Neither of us could resist venison carpaccio; the meat was soft and flavourful, the pickled cauliflower and carrots expertly done and the gently dressed salad leaves corralled in an exemplary parmesan tuile.

After that promising start the excruciatingly named ‘Eee Baaaa Gum’ was a hearty pan-fried slab of lamb with good dauphinoise potatoes, and a selection of nicely cooked vegetables.

Lynne’s vanilla pannacotta was too 2-D to wobble properly, but Yorkshire rhubarb was all it is cracked up to be. My parkin was fluffy and treacly, and the ginger ice cream showed every sign of being made in-house.

It was an excellent meal and we had the feeling there is a chef behind this who must churn out the steak and ale pies but likes to spread her/his wings – and deserves the opportunity to do more.

06-Sept-2018, Lynne’s birthday

Lynne opened her cards and a present or two, then we made our way down for breakfast

The breakfast buffet was well up to standard and the breakfast room even more showy than the lobby.

Lord Byron wrote ‘To a Beautiful Quaker’ while here staying here in 1806; a framed copy hangs by the door. Is it just doggerel, or have I missed something?

Breakfast at the Crown Hotel, Harrogate

Taking the Waters at Harrogate

Tourist attractions do not open early, so we went for a walk.

In 1596, recently returned from the Grand Tour, William Slingsby noted that the water from Tewit Well on the Stray was similar to the waters of Spa in Belgium. In the 17th and 18th centuries further chalybeate springs were found in High Harrogate, and chalybeate and sulphur springs in Low Harrogate. As ‘taking the waters’ became fashionable these hitherto insignificant hamlets grew into ‘England’s Spa’ and Harrogate led where Bath, Tunbridge Wells and several dozen others followed.

In the early days, guests at the Crown Hotel dipped their cups directly into the muddy sulphur springs to the right of the entrance. The Royal Pump Room was built over the springs in 1842 so the well-off could buy their water from a tap and drink it in comfort...

The Royal Pump Room, Harrogate (The glazed annex was added in 1913)

…while the poor were provided with an outside tap. The notice beside it says that the water is unfit for consumption – times change - but we thought the appalling smell of hydrogen sulphide was far more off-putting than any notice.

Very smelly sulphur water outside the Royal Pump Room, Harrogate

The Royal Baths are nearby. It is a huge complex, part of it now a Chinese restaurant…

The Royal Baths, Harrogate

…while the Turkish Bath (entrance round the corner) is one of only two Victorian Turkish Baths still operating in England.

The Turkish Bath, Parliament Street, Harrogate

Knaresborough

Knaresborough Market Square

Mid-morning we drove to Knaresborough, the short journey being mostly through outer Harrogate and past the town’s golf club. After only a few hundred metres of open country we crossed the River Nidd turned up the hill along Knaresborough High Street and parked near the market square.

Knaresborough Market Square

While Harrogate is largely a product of the late 18th and 19th centuries, Knaresborough is much older and was for a long time the bigger and more important settlement. With 15,000 inhabitants it now has less than a quarter of Harrogate’s population and lies within the Borough of Harrogate. Central Harrogate’s Georgian and Victorian grandeur contrasts sharply with Knaresborough's old centre, a comfortable jostle of several centuries of English vernacular architecture.

'Blind Jack' Metcalfe and Mother Shipton

Knaresborough market received its Royal Charter in 1310 and a weekly market is still held, with two of Knaresborough’s favourite citizens in attendance. Despite his disability ‘Blind Jack’ Metcalf, was a pioneering civil engineer and road builder in the 18th century….

'Blind Jack' Metcalf, Knaresborough Market Place, by Barbara Asquith, 2008

…while Mother Shipton is more problematic. A soothsayer and prophet she supposedly lived from 1488 to 1561, though the first book of her prophecies was only published in 1641. She was not connected with Knaresborough until a 1684 edition alleged she was born in a cave near the ‘petrifying well’ beside the River Nidd. As the petrifying well was already a tourist attraction (reputedly Britain’s oldest) perhaps the connection with Mother Shipton was ‘convenient’. Mother Shipton’s Cave and the Petrifying Well remain Knaresborough’s major attraction. We visited many years ago and I can confirm the petrifying well, actually a small waterfall, is well named; the mineral content ensuring that anything hung in the splashing water, be it a teddy, cricket bat or pair of socks, does indeed become coated in stone. Mother Shipton, I suspect, is mythical, but her statue has sat opposite the very real Jack Metcalf since 2013.

Mother Shipton, Knaresborough Market Square, by Christopher Kelly

We had coffee in the pleasant Lavender Café on the square, upstairs from what claims to be the oldest ‘chemyst’ shop in England.

Knaresborough Castle

Knaresborough remains entirely on the east side of the Nidd but has expanded onto the lower ground around the old town which is perched on a bluff above the river. This easily defended site attracted the earliest inhabitants and in the 11th century the town was known as Chanaresburg (Cenheard’s Fortress) though no one knows who Cenheard was. The Normans built a stone castle around 1100 and the outer ward would have seen most of the town’s commercial activity before the development of the market place. Little remains of the outer curtain wall.

The Inner Ward with remnants of the curtain wall, Knaresborough Castle

Even less remains of the inner wall, though the view over the river explains why this spot was chosen.

Looking down from the Inner Ward of Knaresborough Castle. The railway viaduct was completed in 1851 and is still in use

In 1140 four knights, led by Hugh de Morville, Constable of Knaresborough, murdered Thomas à Beckett in Canterbury Cathedral. On discovering their actions had not pleased Henry II they fled to Knaresborough and holed up in the castle for a year before being granted a pardon, provided they made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land.

In 1210 King John visited Knaresborough Castle on Maundy Thursday (the day before Good Friday) and distributed alms to the poor, starting a tradition that has continued to the present day. The gifts, originally in kind, are now in coin and the practice of the monarch washing the pauper’s feet has not survived (I wonder why?). Today’s recipients, selected for their contribution to the community where the year’s ceremony is held rather than their poverty, receive a bag of specially struck Maundy coins. The coins are legal tender, but their silver content and collectability make them worth much more than their face value.

In 1317 the castle was taken during Thomas of Lancaster’s revolt against Edward II, and the wall was breached when it was retaken for the king. Thereafter all was quiet until the Civil War. Following the Battle of Marston Moor (1644) the defeated royalists retreated to Knaresborough and the castle was besieged and eventually taken by Parliamentarian forces.

After the war Parliament ordered its destruction, the work being carried out by the local people who found it a convenient quarry for building stone. The dungeon remained – Knaresborough needed a prison…

The dungeon, Knaresborough Castle

…and part of the keep still stands above it.

The remains of the keep, Knaresborough Castle

The Tudor Courthouse

The Tudor courthouse in the inner ward remained untouched.

Tudor Courthouse, Knaresborough Castle

Now sitting behind a bowling green (!?), it contains the original courtroom and Knaresborough Museum.

Tudor Courtroom, Knaresborough Castle

The Sallyport

In the outer ward, in the middle of the putting green and surrounded by iron railings is the entrance to the castle’s last remaining sallyport.

Entrance to the sally port, Knaresborough Council

The tunnel, allowing messengers to get in and out during a siege, was used in the civil war. A potential weak point in the defences, it could be closed with a heavy portcullis, no longer in place.

Inside the sallyport, Knaresborough Castle

Cave spiders lay their eggs in white tear-drop shaped sacs hanging from the ceiling. Two species live in this country, this is, I think, meta bourneti. They are harmless – unless you are a woodlouse.

Cave spider, sallyport, Knaresborough Castle

Back to Harrogate

Lunch in Bettys

I was a Bettys virgin until we visited York last year on a May Sunday when we had to queue for a table. I did not expect the same on a September Thursday, but I was wrong. Bettys is not the sort of place I should like. ‘Tea rooms’ are not my natural habitat, (though Bettys will serve a glass of wine or a beer to those who need prefer it) but it has a magic that I appreciate without fully understanding, though it may be something to do with the quality of the fare.

Bettys, Harrogate

The story of how Swiss confectioner Frederick Belmont came to Harrogate is complicated and includes him arriving in Yorkshire by accident after getting on the wrong train at King’s Cross. He opened the first Bettys (it has never had an apostrophe) in 1919, the company merged with long established tea merchant Taylors of Harrogate in 1962 and now has six tea rooms, all in God’s Own County.

Some of Bettys more whimsical confectionery.
Belmont may have been a confectioner, Bettys may be a 'tea room' but they serve snacks, savouries and main courses, too

Lynne claims their egg mayonnaise sandwich is a work or art, my open sandwich with salad and Yorkshire goat’s cheese was delightful and the tea was as good as expected. Bettys is relatively expensive, some say you pay for the name, but quality ingredients are never cheap.

Lynne outside Bettys, Harrogate. Who, if anybody, the original Betty was remains a mystery.

Harry's Walking Tour

Harry is an enthusiastic young man who conducts free walking tours. We joined his small group by the large war memorial opposite Bettys…

War Memorial, Harrrogate

...and set off down Montpellier Hill which brought us to the familiar surroundings of the Crown Hotel. Harry pointed out how many of Harrogate’s central streets have borrowed names from well-known London thoroughfares citing Oxford Street, King’s Road and the inappropriately named Parliament Street, and just like Cheltenham, Harrogate has a Montpellier district. It made companies feel at home, he said, putting these addresses on their letterheads.

Montpellier Hill, Harrogate

Much of his walk covered ground we had already tramped, but he was entertaining well-versed on the history.

Agatha Christie and the 'Swan Hydro'

Up the hill opposite the Royal Baths is the Old Swan Hotel. In 1926 Agatha Christie was overworked and depressed even before her husband asked for a divorce. After a quarrel on December the 3rd he left to spend the weekend with his mistress. At 9:45 that evening Christie wrote her secretary a note saying she was ‘going to Yorkshire’ and left home; her car was later found abandoned near a flooded quarry in Surrey. Her disappearance made the front pages of the newspapers, and not just in this country. Over a thousand policemen, 15,000 volunteers, and several aeroplanes joined the hunt amid fears that she had committed suicide.

The Old Swan, Harrogate

On December the 14th she was recognised in the Swan Hydropathic Hotel (now the Old Swan) where she had checked in under an assumed name. She claimed to have no memory of the previous ten days and never talked about it again, entirely omitting the episode from her autobiography. It has been suggested she had suffered a dissociative fugue, or was attempting to frame her husband for her murder or it was just a publicity stunt. Nobody knows.

The End of the Cure

When Charles Dickens visited in 1858, he observed ‘Harrogate is the queerest place with the strangest people in it, leading the oddest lives of, newspaper reading and dining.’ The ‘strangest people’ were the crowds taking the cure, and Harry produced a 19th century document advising them how best to divide their day into periods for drinking foul-tasting water, reading the newspaper, resting, drinking more water, strolling, drinking more water and socialising. The ‘oddest life’ seemed a fair description, but when it was the height of fashion those less acute than Dickens did not notice.

The fashion faded in the 20th century, the increasingly anachronistic 'Bath Chair Brigade' finally (metaphorically) killed off by the Second World War. During the war, the Swan Hydropathic (they dropped ‘Hydropathic’ from their name, in favour of ‘Old’ around 1950) and other big hotels were commandeered as government offices and army headquarters – they were less likely to be bombed here than in London. Learning from that, post-war Harrogate reinvented itself as a conference centre.

Valley Gardens

Harry led us into the Valley Gardens, 17 acres of greenery stretching west from the town centre.

Valley Gardens, Harrogate

A glass covered walkway allowed takers of the cure to exercise gently in all weathers. The gardens also have 36 mineral springs, accounting for its original name of ‘Bogs Field’. Valley Gardens sounds much more attractive and I wonder if they will ever rechristen the ‘Magnesia Wells Café’.

Valley Gardens, Harrogate

The End of Harry’s Tour

Returning to the centre we processed through Wetherspoons following Harry’s placard – not without comment - to view the ghost of a glass covered arcade incorporated into the modern building…

Part of the glass acracde, inside 'Spoons, Harrogate

…and then back to Bettys. Harrogate is the home of Bettys, but we had not, we discovered visited the original - Bettys moved (though only across the road) into its current premises relatively recently.

Dinner at All Bar One

So our Harrogate sojourn ended. We dined in All Bar One on Parliament Street, although not usually fans of chain restaurants, it had a bright, welcoming interior and the menu suited our mood. There is nothing ‘authentic’ about their chicken katsu, European-style slabs of meat with a Japanese crumb coating, perched on sticky rice from south-east Asia sitting in a puddle of Indian Korma sauce with added chillies – but I enjoyed it (see below).

Pre dinner gin, All Bar One, Harrogate

Update
Katsu Curry
2020

That was my first brush with Katsu Curry, now it is ubiquitous; I have had it in my local pub and bought a jar in a supermarket to make it at home. But I had previously eaten in any number of Indian Restaurants, and enjoyed curries across India and much of the rest of South East Asia, how had I missed it for so long? Simples, I hadn't.

The British took curry to Japan at the start of the 20th century. Given the usual British taste it was a mild curry, and their curry sauce soon became very popular. Japanese for curry is karē.Karē sauce is often served with a breaded pork cutlet, in Japanese a katsu, this is called a katsu karē. When it was introduced here (or, in a way, re-introduced) in the 21st century, the katsu became the sauce, not the breaded pork cutlet (we've always been so good at languages!)