Tatty and Batty Knaresborough

The heatwave is just a distant memory and autumn is here. The mugging sun has given way to pearly skies and so, before we whack up the heat, roll out the winter duvet and drop into hibernation, we decided on another northern recce. Last year, we spent a few boozy days in Leeds with a whistle stop at Knaresborough thrown into the mix. We were so enamoured with the little town, this time we lodged there for a few days to get a fuller flavour. I was also on a mission to catch up with an old friend I hadn’t seen for more than a decade. She got hitched in nearby Harrogate in 2004 and I attended the nuptials. After our last jaunt, I discovered she now lives in Knaresborough with her beau and assorted kids. I kicked myself for not catching up at the time and I wasn’t about to make the same mistake.

Me in 2004 – I’ve not changed a bit! And yes, I was a little drunk!

And catch up we did with a vengeance – at a local hostelry when we arrived, for a slice of Victoria sponge down by the river Nidd the next day and a home-cooked lamb roast the evening after. We nattered, we drank, we laughed. The organised chaos of family life was pure joy.

Ramped to the rafters with independent shops and watering holes, Knaresborough has been little troubled by the relentless march of corporate chains dominating most high streets these days. Long may that be so. We also jumped on a bus to handsome Harrogate for a spot of lunch. The Victorian town is uber-elegant but a bit too coiffured for my liking – more set, blow and dry when compared to Knaresborough’s quirky curls.

And so to the snaps…

It rained a bit. Well that’s the north for you. When circumstances allow, we could be looking for somewhere new to lay our cloth caps. The little batty and tatty town is still at the top of the leader board. I might even get a whippet.