My father met my mother outside the pub during a meet of the foxhounds and the rest, as they say, including me, is history.
Glasgow for a few days, before moving on to the Lake District for a week, then on to Harrogate, the place of Betty’s Tea Rooms and my birth.
Ahhh ... Harrogate ... the place of my birth and the infamous Betty's Tea Rooms where punters queue around the corner just to get a table. A place where I feel warm, secure and protected by my forebears, even if don't go back as often as I should. Harrogate is where my roots are. Sadly there was no time... Continue Reading →