After a lovely few days in my home town with my old mates from school, most importantly one of which is the nearest thing I have to a brother, it was time to head off north to see an old mate from university, the guy who I still see as the biggest football guru I've ever met, Boro.
Of course, there was another reason to head into Yorkshire too, to watch Harrogate Town v Carlisle United and chalk up (actually, re-chalk up) my 69th league ground visited.
The journey went well until I approached Hull. Then I hit a massive jam, at one point not moving an inch in five minutes.
Eventually, though, I arrived and I must say I was impressed. It's pretty central, so not one of these remote grounds on the edge of the city, and you can walk all the way around it, which I did.
After that quite traumatic experience it was time to head north to Whitby, a place I'd never been to before.
After...
It was odd to see fireworks on sale...
Whitby is so cute...
I had a quick half before ascending the 199 steps up to the cathedral at the top.
The view from the top of the steps...
James Cook...
Then, it was off to Yarm, via the equally pleasant town of Guisborough.
The English always remember...
The George and Dragon will be the place to watch the World Cup.
Best pint of Timmy Taylor 's I've had.
Thirsk was a pleasant surprise. I didn't know it was the home of the guy responsible for naming Lords cricket ground.
And then I spent half an hour in the charming World of James Herriott museum.
Then it was to the Witherspoon pub with the grandest entrance I've ever seen.
Past an Aga shop. Harrogate is very posh.
Then to the oldest pub in Harrogate, Hales Bar.
Then the Old Bell.
Then the Fat Badger
Then the Montpelier...
Then Major Tom's
Then it was my favourite of the lot, the Little Ale House.
I cut out the last pub I was aiming to visit and caught the bus to the ground.
Before the match I decided to grab a bite to eat and queued up for a pie.
Unfortunately, there was no match that I could conveniently attend this time, so the "MKM Stadium", as it is now called, will have to wait.
After Hull, I set a course for the geographic location that used to be Filey Butlins, a place I last visited in the summer of 1975, as a 16 year old.
Filey holds very mixed memories for me. It was the first time I'd ever been on holiday on my own without parents (excluding my skiing school trip to the Tyrol) and it was certainly the first time I'd ever bought a pint in a bar - incredible as I must have looked about 12 and my voice still hadn't broken.
It was after getting drunk on outrageously strong (4% ABV) Krönenberg lager that I did an act that resulted in me nearly getting killed.
Because I had a frustratingly late adolescence, I never had a girlfriend until I was 21. All my mates seemed to be doing just fine in that area and so sex, and all things related, were of acute interest to me. To cut a long story short, after one of the first of many dance floor debacles, I set off to my room, of course, alone. I couldn't help notice a young couple ahead of me going to a room near mine and that their curtain was slightly open. Curious as to what this couple might get up to, I tried to sneek a peek.
I know. Peeping Tom, right? Disgusting, right? I still feel ashamed about this even today, but however creepy this behaviour was, I don't think l deserved what followed.
The young man, who I seem to remember had a Scottish accent, was justifiably furious when he noticed me through the window and came straight out to confront me. I ran.
Still inebriated, I stupidly ran across a field and headed for the toilet, rather than back to my room which, I guess, I thought was too close by.
I entered a toilet closet and locked the door, hoping he'd just go away.
Instead he came in and kicked the door down and... well I don't know what he did next.
I woke up the next morning in a Scarborough hospital bed with a massive black eye. To cut a long story short, it seems he'd struck me in the face with a bottle causing my optic nerve to get damaged. I've been partially sighted in that eye ever since.
My mum and dad came to see me the next day and a few days later I was released. I didn't report the incident to the police as I was too ashamed of what I did.
Anyway, 47 years later, I thought this would be a good opportunity to revist.
Of course Butlins is long gone but there is a new holiday resort on the same spot. Everything had changed except the coast line which seemed vaguely familiar.
What a wonderful place. It immediately occurred to me... why haven't I been here before?
I found a nice place to park the car overlooking the North Sea and then set off to explore.
First stop was... of course, fish and chips. Whitby would appear to be paradise for this category.
Trenchers is the Rolls Royce of the chippy world. Sit down restaurant with friendly waitresses and cooks wearing hats.
Lots of fish choices and other options. I went for crab meat and salad as a side dish.
Delicious!
Before...
I
Home of Captain Cook.
After a quick pint it was off to see my old mucker from university and, after a nice cuppa and a reminder about domestic life, we hit the pubs and chewed the fat about Ukraine, old friends from uni and the complexities of betting.
Mood score for the day 15-1, with the "one" being the traffic coming into Hull making me angry.
Next day, I was up early and heading back south again...
There now follows a million photos of the museum....
I did not know that he chose the name because he'd watched Birmingham v Sunderland and the Blues goalie, who played a blinder, was Herriott.
Always interested in embryology.
Impressive museum of vetinary science.
Next, an invigorating walk up the White Horse. On the recommendation of a very friendly and chatty Thirskian Leeds fan who was very keen to show off his Brian Clough accent.
"Good luck, young man!" He called out as I parted.
"I wish" I replied.
It took a while, and close examination of Google maps, to find the famous White Horse, but it was worth it.
Then, it was on to Ripon.
By now, it was lunch time, so time for fish & chips again. Not the best but, as always, hit the spot.
Finally, arriving in Harrogate, I drove to the ground and was told to buy a ticket for the match I should go to the club shop on Commercial Street. So off I went and found the perfect place to park just opposite.
The very friendly guy sold me a good seat so, job done, I then had to find my B & B which, luckily, was just around the corner.
I moved the car, dumped my bag, plugged all my recharges in and set off for my Harrogate pub crawl.
First stop, 100m from the front door was the brewpub, Cold Bath Brewery.
Very smooth.
I love that feeling of anticipation you get approaching the ground as the number of spectators converting on the ground increases in density and the hum of conversation gets louder.
Only 2,200 or so turned up to the compact EnviroVent Stadium that night but they still made a buzz. EnviroVent? What kind of a name is that? A local fan told me it used to be called Wetherby Road, so I'll sick to that one.
The home entrance took me all the way around the ground to my seat - another good 'un. Fourth row back neat the half way line.
And what a pie. Best ever at a football match, with mushy peas and mint sauce.
Best pie at a football match ever.
I have to say, the quality of football these days is amazing. This was the fourth tier of England's very impressive (and huge) pyramid system, but right from the start the game oozed skills and there were few unforced errors. Carlisle United's 200 or so fans travelled over from Cumbria in buoyant mood, clearly expecting a win. Their team came into the game favourites as their season had started well. Clearly have hopes of promotion whereas Harrogate, struggling, and still only in their 2nd season ever in the league would be hoping for a win to take them further away from the relegation zone.
But there didn't seem much of a difference in the teams and we were clearly going to be in for a ln end to end titanic tussle.
First blood went to the away side, annoyingly changed from their traditional Blue shirts with a white band down the middle and white shorts.
Taylor Charter scored in front of the small band of Harrogate fans in the 12th minute, sending them ecstatic. But Luke Armstrong scored a cracking equaliser on half an hour so the sides went in at half time all square.
In the Harrogate side I was immediately impressed with the left back Jaheim Headley, dcebtral defender Warren Burren and their diminutive but busy midfield captain John Falkingham.
In the second half Carlisle took the lead with a Ryan Edmonton goal but Harrogate continued to look dangerous and then equalised with a header from Warren Burren.
The yellows continued to surge forward looking for a winner and it seemed to have come, with 15 minutes left when the man of the match Headley smashed in to make it 3-2.
But the drama was not over as Carlisle pounded the Harrogate goal in front of their increasingly desperate fans. The equaliser finally came with practically the last touch of the game.
Relief for Carlisle, but still a good point for Harrogate.
And, from my perspective, another ground ticked off, taking me back to 69.
Time for three more pubs on the way back home.
Near the ground is a good old sporty bar, the Empress, where I caught up with the other results before getting the bus back to town and another visit to the Little Ale House and a very nice chat with the owner/manager Richard, before one last drop at Christies, a pub I was advised to skip, but they did a nice Timmy Taylors and I was able to eavesdrop the conversation about climate change from four young dudes.
Then, it was time for bed!
Now, that was a day and a half! One of the best ever. My mood score ended up 30-0!!
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