The Real James Herriot by James Wight

Author:James Wight [Wight, Jim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-79092-7
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2011-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

One half-day per week, every Thursday, was Alf’s only regular break from work for the first ten years of his professional life. These hallowed few hours were spent in the town of Harrogate. This elegant spa town, referred to in the Herriot books as ‘Brawton’, was one for which he and Joan developed a lasting affection. Right up until the final years of Alf’s life, they followed the tradition of visiting Harrogate every Thursday with, in the early days, these visits following a set pattern. Eating was the number one activity.

Alf and Joan always enjoyed their food but their performance with the knife and fork was particularly impressive at that time. Thursdays opened, as usual, with a good breakfast, after which Alf built up an appetite around the practice in the morning while Joan whetted hers, scrubbing at the already clean Kirkgate stone floors. They then departed for Harrogate, stopping en route at the Red Lion at South Stainley, a famous inn noted for its good food. After a substantial three-course lunch, they drove on to Harrogate and spent the next couple of hours browsing around the shops, before hunger pains drew them through the doors of Betty’s Café. What followed then was the effortless consumption of hors d’oeuvres, fish and chips and a tasty dessert. The clean and friendly café, with the smiling waitresses and the gentle chink of fine china, was a wonderfully relaxing contrast to the rough and tumble of the cold Yorkshire farmyards.

The next stop was the cinema, after which, upon emerging from its dark interior, they were assailed by the irresistible aromas issuing from Louis, a nearby restaurant. Louis was a small, volatile Italian gentleman, a masterful chef who ran a small café that provided a satisfying end to the Wights’ day as they swiftly put large plates of spaghetti, or other delicious Italian dishes, out of sight. Harrogate was a sweet retreat for Alf and Joan – a place where they could forget the clamour of 23 Kirkgate with its relentlessly ringing telephone. He writes affectionately in 1979 about the town in his factual book, James Herriot’s Yorkshire: ‘I love my work but it is stressful, and the sense of escape as Helen and I roamed the streets of this lovely town was unbelievable. Even now, when I step from my car in Harrogate, I can feel myself relaxing, feel the tensions and the pressures growing less.’

One day, Alf and Joan were in Betty’s when Alf was approached by a man who said to him, ‘Excuse me, but are you George Donaldson?’

‘No,’ replied Alf. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘You look just like George Donaldson,’ he replied. ‘He was at school with me at Strathallan.’

‘The only man I know of who comes from Strathallan is Gordon Rae, the vet from Boroughbridge,’ continued Alf. ‘But I’ve never actually met him.’

‘Now you have,’ said the man. ‘That’s me!’

Gordon Rae began laughing – something that he and Alf would continue to do together for many years to come. This

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