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!)

Friday Night at Tyddyn Llan

The 'Gourmet Friday' 7-Course Tasting Menu at a Michelin Starred Restaurant

Llandrillo and Tyddyn Llan

Wales

Denbighshire

Leaving Anglesey we headed south-east on the A5 through Snowdonia and Betws-y-Coed to Corwen, the fine weather hanging on despite the morning's ominous signs. Near Corwen we turned south on the B4401 to Llandrillo, a small village deep in the green Denbighshire countryside near the banks of the River Dee. Llandrillo is named for Saint Trillo, a 6th century abbot of renowned holiness and a serial church founder.

North Wales (copyright OneworldMaps.com)
I have added the approximated position of Llandrillo south-west of Corwen

Tyddyn Llan is a few hundred metres beyond the village. Set in extensive gardens, it was built in the 18th century as a shooting lodge for the Duke of Westminster. Much enlarged in the 19th century it became the home of Llandrillo’s vicar when perhaps it gained its name which roughly translates as ‘Glebe House.’ Despite further enlargements at both ends of the 20th century it is a Grade II Listed Building described as a fine gentry house with C18 origins and good early-C19 character. As we arrived the heat wave and drought unequivocally came to an end. With no intention of standing around in a torrential downpour, I have no picture of my own.

Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo
The picture is by Bryan Webb and has been borrowed from the Tyddyn Llan website (with thanks and apologies)

After learning his craft at The Crown in Whitebrook and Drangway in Swansea, Crumlin-born Bryan Webb left Wales in 1983, to hone his skills in Scotland and then London. He returned in 2002 setting up Tyddyn Llan with his wife Susan – who works front of house – as a restaurant with rooms. In 2010 it was the fourth restaurant in Wales to gain a Michelin star (there are now seven) and has held it ever since.[Update: Tyddyn Llan lost its Michelin star in Oct 2019. No one knows why.]

Bryan Webb on the cover of his latest book

Checking in was complicated by the Welsh National Surname Shortage. Two other couples with our surname had booked for that evening, the two men had the same first name and one of them was married to another Lynne. The confusion resulted in an upgrade of our room, but such is life; we coped.

Friday Gourmet Night

We had booked the Friday Gourmet Night 7-course Tasting menu. I have shuddered at the word ‘gourmet’ since we lived in the US in the early 80s and were bombarded with television adverts by a certain Orville Redenbacher flogging his eponymous ‘Gourmet Popping Corn’. Gourmet - befitting a connoisseur of good food and wines - should descibe every dish served at a restaurant of this standard (whether the customers are gourmets or not), but never ever popcorn. I might wince at the wording but once we had settled in the lounge and were presented with the menu I found my lexical discomfort easy to ignore.

The day's 7-course tasting menu - the delights to come

Aperitif and Canapées

Our deal included a half bottle of champagne. Some places might fob you off with cava, I expected an anonymous champagne, we got Louis Roederer. It may not have been Louis Roederer Cristal, that would have been too much to hope for, but it was still a fine Champagne - a pleasurable wine, deliciously smooth and mature as the makers modestly describe it.

Louis Roederer Brut - good stuff!

‘Canapés’ appears on the menus, but not as one of the seven courses (I counted!). Generally, I think salmon is overrated, but this mouthful of soft salmon mousse wrapped in raw salmon was a delightful combination of textures and complimented the champagne like they were made for each other. A quail’s egg is just an egg, albeit a small one, top quality sausage meat is still just sausage meat, so the tiny scotch egg was just a scotch egg. The leek and laverbread tart – what else to eat in Wales - was a marvel, two potentially competing strong flavours in total harmony. I was less impressed with the fish cake, nicely crisp outside, luxuriously soft inside but just lacking in something, I would have liked a little more dill (or was it fennel?)

We moved through to the dining room.

Course 1: Gazpacho

Lynne is usually dismissive of Gazpacho – take it away and warm it up, being her usual unoriginal comment. This gazpacho was a game changer, almost. Thick and smooth yet with a crunch of cucumber and slight spiciness, the fresh Mediterranean flavours won me over completely, and I think Lynne was beginning to bend.

Course 2: Langoustine

The dish did not look special, hidden beneath fronds of rocket but the langoustines were perfectly cooked and so fresh they were sweet, the avocado was a richly smooth guacamole, the dressing set everything off perfectly and the fennel, a soft, folded strip of vegetable lying beneath the langoustine adding delicious aniseed notes. I have not eaten anything so good for ages - though I doubt I would have missed the slice of radish had it been absent.

Dressed Langoustine, Tyddyn Llan

The first of the matched wines was Domaine de Gerbeaux, Mâcon Soloutré. An unoaked chardonnay, refreshingly citrusy with ripeness balancing its bright acidity. It was a fine accompaniment.

Course 3: Stuffed Courgette Flower

After the delights of the langoustine this was a descent to earth. The big, bright yellow flower stuffed with mozzarella and deep fried in the lightest, crunchiest tempura batter lacked variety and juxtaposition of flavours and there was just too much of it. I would have liked less of the flower and more of the tomato and basil sauce.

The matching wine, Villa Huesgen’s ‘By the Glass’ Riesling, comes from an unspecified corner of Germany but works hard not to appear German. The wine list calls it a dry modern Riesling, immensely appealing and approachable. I suspect ‘approachable’ means ‘there is nothing here for anybody to dislike, because there is nothing.’ After trying to drown the world in third-rate Liebfraumilch in the 1970s German wine makers lost their confidence but this, with its awful name, is not the way back.

Course 4: Scallops

We disagreed about this one. This was a busy dish with cauliflower purée, little strips of pancetta cooked to crispness and an assertive caper and raisin dressing. Lynne, a scallop purist who holds that anything other than a light bouillon is a distraction, thought the scallop had been ‘mucked about.’ Being less inclined to regard the scallop as underwater royalty I thought the combinations had been well thought out and brilliantly executed. I liked it a lot.

The Verdejo/Sauvignon from Bodegas Naia in Rueda worked well enough with this. I am not a great Verdejo fan, but the 15% Sauvignon Blanc redeemed it with a becoming creaminess.

Course 5: Roast Plaice

Fish is not often roasted, and I suspect that roasting a thin, delicate fillet of plaice requires precisely judged temperature and timings. This was a triumph. Sprinkled with samphire it sat in a yin and yang of laverbread sauce and beurre blanc. The evening’s second appearance of laverbread was by no means unwelcome, and the beurre blanc sauce was so sumptuous I could have eaten a bowl of it with a spoon – though it would have done me no good.

Roast plaice with laverbread sauce, Tyddyn Llan

There is nothing a piece of plaice likes more than a good Muscadet, and Château de Poyet Muscadet Sèvre et Maine sur lie is a good Muscadet.

Course 6: Lamb or Duck

The courses hitherto had been small, though not tiny and we thought we were pacing ourselves well until the meat course arrived. In a review earlier this year Wales Online observed if you think fine dining is about tiny portions in the middle of big plates, then you haven't eaten here yet. Thirty years ago the appearance of a full sized main course at this stage would have been fine but as we progress through our sixties….

The Gosnargh duck was as good as they come, the pink breast sliced almost as thinly as bacon, the faggot intensely offal-y. Confit worked its magic, turning a humble spud into something delightful, and the port and blackcurrant sauce was rich if hardly ground-breaking. I do not see the point of celeriac purée, but maybe that is my problem.

The Patagonian Pinot Noir, pale almost rosé, and more Alsace-like than Burgundian was short of varietal flavour. Although I welcome the celebration of the long-standing links between Wales and Patagonia, the wine was disappointing.

Lynne struggled with her lamb, finding the cutlets delicious but running out of steam on the slow-cooked breast. There was no doubting the quality, but the quantity was too daunting at this stage of the evening.

Lynne and her lamb. Tyddyn Llan - that is a substantial plateful for course 6 of 7

The accompanying Rioja from Bodegas LAN, was as enjoyable as always – though as this was the climax I felt a reserva would have been more appropriate than a crianza.

Course 7: Cherry Soup with Cinnamon Ice Cream

For dessert I chose cherry soup with cinnamon ice cream, not because I imagined cherry soup would be anything more than a bowl of cherries, but for the ice cream. I thought the cinnamon understated (I prefer it that way) but the texture was something else. Even the best commercial ice creams are miles away from the luxury of real ice cream made by real people in a kitchen not a factory.

Cherry soup and cinnamon ice cream, Tyddyn Llan

Ice cream and wine are reluctant companions and I would not normally drink Moscato d'Asti but it was a revelation. Low in alcohol and semi-sparkling it was a surprisingly complex fruit salad of a wine and a fine accompaniment. Lynne opted out of the dessert but drank her Recioto della Valpolicella. Valpolicella made from partially dried grapes is usual vinified dry and strong. The sweet version - intensely and lusciously sweet - was new to me.

A fine evening finished in the lounge with coffee, petit fours (I still had one a small corner unstuffed) and a glass of grappa.

In 2012 Bryan Webb toldWales OnLine I have a Michelin star but wouldn’t class myself as a Michelin star chef….it makes people expect really fancy and technical food but that’s not for me. I do good honest food on a plate and by luck….we got a Michelin star but I have been cooking the same food for 22 years. I haven’t really changed anything [though] the ingredients might have got better.”

I would quibble with ‘by luck’ I suspect it was more to do with skill and hard work and as for being ‘technical’, top-quality ingredients beautifully cooked are good enough for me (and the Michelin inspectors).

I was a little disappointed with the wines; highlights were the Roederer Champagne at the start and (to my surprise) the Moscato d’Asti with dessert, but there were few peaks between. And if matching wines are offered for each course I want to see them on the menu with full details; I like to know my Muscadet comes from Château de Poyet and that I should not have had to do the checking, it should have been on the menu.

Tyddyn Llan was the fourth of Wales’ seven Michelin starred restaurants we have eaten at. At this level all should have at least one stand-out dish but Tyddyn Llan impressed me by having three, the langoustine, the plaice and the scallops (though Lynne would disagree about the scallops). Highly recommended

'Fine Dining' posts

Abergavenny and the Walnut Tree (2010)
Ludlow and La Bécasse (2011) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn)
Ilkley and The Box Tree(2012)
Pateley Bridge and the Yorke Arms (2013) (No longer a restaurant, post renamed Parceval Gardens and Pateley Br)
The Harrow at Little Bedwyn (2014)
The Slaughters and the Lords of the Manor (2015)
Loam, Fine Dining in Galway (2016)
Penarth and Restaurant James Sommerin (2017) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn. JS has a new restaurant in Penarth)
The Checkers, Montgomery (2017) (no longer a restaurant, post withdrawn. Now re-opened under new management)
Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo, Denbighshire (2018)
Fischer's at Baslow Hall, Derbyshire (2019)
Hambleton Hall, Rutland (2021)
The Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath (2022)
Dinner at Pensons near Tenbury Wells (2023) (restaurant closed Dec 2023, post withdrawn)

Both Sides of the Menai Strait: (2) Anglesey, Beaumaris and Plas Newydd

Anglesey Mussels, a Norman Castle, the Village with That Name and a Big House

26-July-2018

Wales

Anglesey

Beaumaris

After crossing the Menai Bridge outside Bangor at the end of the previous post we turned right and drove along the coast to Beaumaris.

Thomas Telford's Menai Bridge

Once a Viking settlement, Beaumaris became a town in 1295 when Edward I chose the coastal plain for one of the chain of castles he deemed necessary to intimidate the newly conquered and unruly people of Gwynedd. Its Norman name (lit: ‘beautiful marsh’) marks Beaumaris out as unusual on Welsh-speaking Anglesey where place names are overwhelmingly Welsh, though the usual pronunciation is better reflected by its Welsh spelling Biwmares.

Anglesey and the mainland of North Wales

Once a major port and trading centre and the County Town of Anglesey, Beaumaris declined in importance until tourism became a major industry and with 2,000 inhabitants it still feels like a small town rather than a large village.

Joseph Hansom and Victorian Beaumaris

We drove down the main drag, Castle Street, to the castle and turned back down the coast to our B&B tucked behind Victoria Terrace.

Castle Street, Beaumaris (looking very quiet as this photo was taken 07:30 next morning)

Victoria terrace was designed by Joseph Hansom, he of the Hansom Cab and Birmingham Town Hall, and built 1830-35. It was named for the thirteen-year-old Princess (later Queen) Victoria who visited Beaumaris in 1832. Its shape (which causes the sun to always to be at the wrong angle) makes it a difficult building to photograph and I thought it dour and out of scale for the small town, even if it is Grade I listed.

Victoria Terrace, Beaumaris

Princess Victoria and her mother the Duchess of Kent stayed for three weeks in the then newly built Bulkeley Hotel, another Joseph Hansom building. The hotel frontage on Castle Street looks small and a touch neglected,….

The Bulkeley Hotel, Beaumarais, Castle Street frontage

….but the hotel really faces the sea, not the street.

The Bulkeley Hotel, Beaumaris. sea front side

Anglesey Mussels at the Bulkeley Hotel

Unaware of the royal connection we decided to dine at the Bulkeley, a very short walk from our B&B. The menus of most (all?) of Beaumaris’ many restaurants feature Anglesey mussels – how could we resist? It may not have been the ‘fine dining’ that has graced recent wedding anniversaries (that would come tomorrow) but it was good, fresh, local food, sympathetically cooked. Absolutely excellent.

Anglesey mussels, Bulkeley Arms, Beaumaris

A picture of Nelson hangs prominently in the hotel entrance. Their website claims, the hotel’s builder, Sir Richard Bulkeley, had previously been a midshipman on HMS Victory at the Battle of Trafalgar and was the last man to speak to Nelson before he died. Maybe or maybe not. The National Archives tell that the Midshipman Richard Bulkeley on the Victory was from Herefordshire not Beaumaris. Maybe the Bulkeleys (of whom more later) got around, but they have been prominent Beaumaris landowners since the middle ages, though the family died out in 1822.

Beaumaris, Evening Stroll

After dinner we strolled along the sea front in the warm evening air, took the obligatory wedding anniversary photo...

43 years and no time off for good behaviour, beside the Menai Strait, Beaumaris

...and watched the almost full moon rise over Snowdonia across the Menai Strait.

Moonrise over Snowdonia across the Menai Strait from Beaumaris

27-Jul-2018

Beaumaris, Early Morning Stroll

Up early, we took a morning stroll. Over a thousand stone circles survive in Britain and Ireland from the Neolithic and early Bronze Ages but the stone circle on the grassy area between the Victoria Terrace and the sea is not one of them, being constructed in 1996 to celebrate the Anglesey Eisteddfod.

Anglesey Eisteddfod Stone Circle, Beaumaris, and clouds over Snowdonia

Dark clouds over Snowdonia heralded the end of the month-long heat wave. Some will be glad to see it go and I know the rain is needed, but Lynne and I will mourn its passing.

We walked along Castle Street (photo above), turned down Church Street...

Church Street, Beaumaris

…and before the eponymous church found this chapel converted into a home.

Converted chapel, Church Street, Beaumaris

From the ex-chapel we drifted round past the castle and back for breakfast.

Beaumaris Castle

Beaumaris is a bijoux sort of Norman Castle; it does not stand on a massive rocky outcrop like Harlech, or dominate the town with forbidding towers and walls like Caernafon and Conwy (the four together make up a UNESCO World Heritage site). Instead it sits with quiet confidence at the end of town, its small, neat towers and sturdy walls overlooking by a still intact moat.

Beaumaris Castle

An aerial view explains why historian Arnold Taylor called it the "most perfect example of symmetrical concentric planning." I do not travel with a drone, so I have borrowed a picture from Wikipedia.

Beaumaris Castle
(Copyright Cadw - and this is a link to their website as requested)

Plans for the castle were made in 1284, two years after Edward I’s annexation of Wales, but Beaumaris was not a priority and building did not start until Madog ap Llewelyn’s 1294-5 rebellion provided a wake-up call. Work then got going under the direction of James of St George, a Savoyard and the greatest castle builder of the age, but Edward’s expensive Scottish pre-occupation left the builders without funds and work soon stopped. It restarted in 1306 and was finished in 1330.

James of St George (by Ceredigion based sculptor/designer Sebastien Boyesen)
As there are no contemporary likenesses of James of St G and this was made in 2016, it might not be a precise likeness

Despite its size the castle looks impregnable. Attackers managing to cross the moat and break through the door or over the outer wall find themselves trapped in a killing field between two walls. However, the castle was taken by siege in 1403 during Owain Glendŵr’s rebellion and retaken in 1405.

Between the outer and inner walls, Beaumaris Castle

With the Welsh Tudors on the English throne Wales became less rebellious and the castle fell into disrepair, only to become relevant again in the Civil War, as it controlled the route connecting the Royalist forces in England and Ireland via Holyhead. Thomas Bulkeley, whose family had managed the castle for generations, paid a considerable sum from his own pocket for repairs and held the castle for the King, an act for which he was created the 1st Viscount Bulkeley in 1644. The castle was surrendered to Parliamentarian forces in 1646.

Inside the inner wall, Beaumaris Castle

In 1807 the 7th and last Viscount Bulkeley bought the castle from the Crown, incorporating it into the park around his house. In the 20th century Beaumaris Castle was given back to the Crown eventually finding its way into the care of Cadw, the Historic Environment division of the Welsh Government.

On the walls, Beaumaris Castle

We walked among the old stones, and through a series of rooms inside the inner wall including the chapel…

Chapel, Beaumaris Castle

…and ‘hands-on’ room where children are encouraged to build arches and spiral staircases. Lynne has always nurtured her inner child and although her arch collapsed her spiral staircase was first class.

Lynne builds a spiral staircase, Beaumaris Castle

Beaumaris Court House and Gaol (closed on Fridays)

We intended to visit Beaumaris’ 17th century courthouse and the Joseph Hansom designed gaol. The courthouse was a two-minute walk from the castle and we arrived to discover both it and the gaol close on Fridays – an odd day to choose, we thought.

Beaumaris courthouse (and Lynne checking the opening hours if the jail)

Instead we went for a coffee. On the way we passed a seagull, hardly unusual in Beaumaris, but not like this.

Seagull, Beaumaris
(or in deference to my friend Brian who is occasionally heard to remark 'there is no such bird as a seagull', it is a herring gull)

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch

Heading back along the coast past the Menai bridge, we decided to drop in on the place with ‘that name’. We last visited in the 1990s, in November when it was just a matter of stopping in the almost empty station car park, wandering onto the platform and photographing the sign. On a fine July day the car park was stuffed - and was the small shopping centre new? We merely paused, took a picture and left.

Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwrndrobllllantisiliogogogoch Station

Originally known as Llanfair Pwllgwyngyll, the village is often referred to Llanfair PG, which is easier on the anglophone. Pwllgwyngyll looks like a 12-letter word without vowels, but y is a vowel, as is the first w (pronounced like - oo - in English) The biggest problem is the frequently encountered ll, technically described as a ‘voiceless lateral fricative’ – I bet that helps. The long version of the name, with five voiceless lateral fricatives, two of them consecutive, means, ‘St Mary’s Church in the hollow of the white hazel near the rapid whirlpool of Llantysilio of the red cave’. It was coined in the 1860s with the intention of giving the station the longest name in the British railway system and so attracting tourist traffic. It worked.

Plas Newydd

Nearby, surrounded by woods and parkland, Plas Newydd sits beside the Menai Strait.

Parkland, Plas Newydd

A house known as Llwyn-y-Moel occupied the site in the 13th century and by 1470 was owned by the Griffith family of Penrhyn Castle (a predecessor of the house we visited yesterday). In the early 17th century Llwyn-y-Moel passed by marriage to Lewis Bayly, Bishop of Bangor who rebuilt it and renamed it Plas Newydd (New Hall).

The current Plas Newydd, a substantial neo-classical country house, was largely the work of architects James Wyatt and Joseph Potter in the 18th century. Wyatt was also responsible for the partial rebuilding of Liverpool Town Hall after the 1795 fire (see Liverpool (1) Castle Street and the Catholic Cathedral). Walking through the park, we arrived at the back of the house and had completed the tour before reaching the front where a lawn runs down to the sea.

Plas Newydd, from the front

The Pagets and the Cannock Chase Connection

The house and later owners have a Staffordshire connection (see Cannock Chase: Venturing Further East). In 1744 it was the home of Sir Nicholas Bayly, 2nd Baronet Plas Newydd and his wife Caroline Paget. In that year Caroline’s second cousin Henry, the 8th Baron Paget, died without issue and his title and estate, Beaudesert near Cannock, passed to Nicholas and Caroline Bayly's son Henry. When he died in 1812 Henry Bayly (by then Henry Bayly-Paget) was 9th Baron Paget, 1st Earl of Uxbridge and 3rd Baronet of Plas Newydd. His son Henry Paget (the 10th Baron etc), was Wellington's Second in Command at Waterloo where he famously mislaid his leg (his prosthetic leg is on show at Plas Newydd). In compensation he was created 1st Marquess of Anglesey, because another title was just what he needed.

Meet the ancestors, entrance hall, Plas Newydd

The Marquesses of Anglesey lived mainly at Beaudesert. The 5th Marquess (1875-1905) was an interesting character whose extravagances led to bankruptcy and his early death, after which the titles passed to his cousin, Charles who sold off Beaudesert and their London house to cover the debts and moved full time to Plas Newydd.

Bedroom, Plas Newydd

Charles Paget made the last major changes to the house, including the removal of the crenellations.

Drawing room, Plas Newydd

Rex Whistler at Plas Newydd

In the 1930s the artist Rex Whistler was a regular visitor. Whistler painted portraits of Charles Paget (see the Cannock Chase post linked above), his daughter Caroline, with and without her clothes, (they may have had an affair) and his son Henry, the future 7th Marquess.

The young Henry Paget, future 7th Marquess of Anglesey

From 1936-38 Whistler worked on his capriccio, a seascape on a huge canvas covering a whole wall of the dining room. He played with perspective – Neptune’s wet foot prints lead in different directions depending in on where you stand – and some of the trompe-l’oeil effects are mind-bending.

Rex Whistler's capriccio, Plas Newydd
This is Wikipedia's picture, but it is in the public domain

He left a (painted) cigarette on a step, saying he intended to smoke it on his return. He never did return; he joined the Welsh Guards in 1940 and was killed in action near Caen in July 1944.

My photo of Whistler's capriccio
The dining room is not wide enough to photograph the whole thing, but this gives an idea of the size and also shows one of the trompe-l'oiel end panels. the cigarette is on the step of the (actually non-existent) corridor on the right.

Henry Paget became the 7th Marquess in 1947, donating the house to the National Trust in 1976. He continued to live at Plas Newydd, maintaining an office there until his death in 2013. It remains as he left it. It is not untidy, he said, he had a desk for running the estate and one for each of his many interests – military history, family history, prosthetic limbs and more - with the appropriate papers at the ready.

Henry Paget's 'tidy office', Plas Newydd

The Britannia Bridge

It was time to make our way south and east to dinner at Tyddan Llan in Denbighshire. After crossing to Anglesey on the Menai Bridge we returned over the Britannia Bridge. Built as a railway bridge by Robert Stephenson and opened in 1850, it connected London directly to Holyhead and thence by boat to Dublin. The admiralty insisted it should be high enough to accommodate a fully rigged man-of-war, so Stephenson designed a tubular wrought iron construction.

Stephenson's Britannia Bridge in 1852 - uncredited engraving

Stephenson’s bridge worked well enough until May 1970 when it was destroyed by a fire. The damage was such that only the piers could be re-used and as the admiralty’s height requirement was no longer relevant it was replaced by a truss arch railway bridge which opened in 1972. A second tier was added in 1980 to carry the A55.

The current Britannia Bridge
The two bridges are only a few hundred metres apart. This photo and the one of the Menai Bridge were taken from the same spot

Both Sides of the Menai Strait

Part 1:The Mainland, Penryhn Castle and Bangor
Part 2: Anglesey, Beaumaris and Plas Newydd