My very first trip to the Harrogate Crime Festival

I’m more tired than a tired person who’s really tired right now. Why? Because I’ve just spent four days at the Theakston’s Old Peculier Crime Festival in Harrogate so several days of chatting, listening, walking, standing, queuing and three sleepless nights thanks to two fire evacuations in the hotel! More on that later.

I’ve fancied going to the Crime Festival – often just referred to as ‘Harrogate’ for years. Pictures of authors having great fun and raving about the brilliant atmosphere gave me serious FOMO. When one of my good friends, crime/horror author Helen Phifer, shared her photos from last year’s festival, my bestie Sharon Booth and I decided 2024 would be the year we finally attended. Helen said hotels could book up really fast and, on her recommendation, we booked The Cairn Hotel which was a very short walk from where the festival took place, with free parking for guests.

At the start of the year, information emerged about who some of the speakers would be and tickets were released in May. As a festival first-timer, I have to say that I don’t think the system for getting tickets could be any more complicated. Working out how to actually buy them was akin to pulling together the puzzle pieces to solve a crime. Perhaps that was the point! 

Sharon and I are both writers of contemporary romance or women’s fiction depending on what label you prefer so you might be wondering why we’d attend a crime festival. I love hearing other authors speak. I find journeys to publication fascinating and love hearing uplifting stories of hurdles overcome. No matter what the genre, talks from authors can be inspiring and interesting and the pair of us have attended several crime author talks as part of the East Yorkshire Festival of Words so were keen to hear from more crime writers.

We were particularly interested in Harrogate this year because we both have ideas for a cosy crime series – a genre which we think fits nicely alongside what we already write as many of the ingredients for our books cross over to cosy crime – carefully crafted realistic characters, a well-developed setting, a community feel. We just don’t tend to have dead bodies in what we write! Sharon is a huge fan of Agatha Christie’s books and I enjoy crime/thriller books although I don’t read many these days as I do struggle for reading time. We therefore thought it would be particularly inspiring to be among other crime writers and readers.

We both really wanted to go to Richard Osman’s talk on the Saturday as we’ve both read and enjoyed The Thursday Murder Club and think that Richard comes across as such a warm, friendly, genuine individual. We knew it would be really popular and a sell out so we’d have to act fast. Worried that we’d miss out on individual tickets, we decided to go for a Saturday Rover – a ticket which guaranteed entry into all talks that day – and managed to secure one of those before they sold out. We also booked two Friday talks and one Sunday one and were really looking forward to our first Harrogate trip.

Sharon lives in Hull and I live in Scarborough so she caught the train up to me and I drove us across to Harrogate. For anyone who doesn’t know this area, Scarborough is on the North Yorkshire coast on the eastern side of England and Harrogate is also in North Yorkshire but inland heading west. Same county but a ninety-minute drive away and there’s still more county beyond that with the Yorkshire Dales National Park to the west and north west. It’s a big place – the biggest county in the UK.

We arrived in time for lunch and met up with a lovely reader called Ann who lives locally and is so supportive about all our books. Sadly, it’s not possible to meet up with readers regularly or we’d never get any writing done but sometimes opportunities pop up like this one where we happened to have some free time when Ann was also available before the packed schedule for the weekend kicked in and we had such a lovely chat.

After a cuppa with Ann, we collected our tickets and goody bags then checked into the hotel, pretty mafted from the traipsing around town in the heat. We couldn’t face a walk back into town to find food so we had tea in the hotel. Back in my (rather warm) room afterwards, I settled on my bed and popped a film on the telly but found myself drifting off after the last ad break. I don’t normally sleep well on the first night staying somewhere different so this was a good sign that perhaps the combination of travelling, wandering and the heat was going to send me into the land of nod. It did. For about fifteen minutes I fell into a deep slumber and then wah wah wah! The fire alarm siren yanked me out of bed, heart pounding as I fumbled to pull on some trousers under my nightie and slip my feet into my shoes. I knocked for Sharon in the room next door and we followed bleary-eyed guests out into the car park. There were no signs or smells of fire but a fire engine arrived, blue lights flashing.

At midnight – 45 minutes after the alarm went off – we were allowed back to our rooms. There was no fire. I couldn’t get back to sleep after that which didn’t bode well for a busy weekend ahead. Concerned about Sharon standing with her bad back, we moved to one of the picnic tables on a grassy section in the car park and were about to sit down when we realised they were teeming with woodlice. Ew! So we decided that standing wasn’t that bad after all!

After breakfast on Friday morning, we walked to the festival. Isn’t it funny how you see photos and hear things about an event and you create in your mind an image of what it’s going to be like? And then, when you’re there, it’s nothing like it! In my head, the set up was going to be a bit like going to a country show with stacks of enormous marques, loads of food concessions, all sorts of activities and a buzzing atmosphere. The reality wasn’t quite like that.

The venue is The Old Swan Hotel which is where Agatha Christie was staying when she ‘disappeared’ back in 1926. You can read more about this on the hotel’s website. It’s therefore logical to hold a crime festival in a place connected to one of the most celebrated crime writers of all time.

The hotel itself appeared to be very lovely but we didn’t really explore it beyond nipping in to the toilets and to get water refills. I’m kicking myself now for missing the plaque dedicated to Christie which I’ve seen other authors sharing in their photos.

Outside on the lawns were a few marquees – a main one known to most as ‘the beer tent’, a smaller open-sided one where some fringe events were held, and another even smaller open-sided one with beanbags for quiet time. We didn’t venture into that one. I kept having an image from an episode of Friends where a young curvier Monica tells Rachel to keep her away from the beanbags as, if she gets down onto one, she’ll never get up. At the end of the night, someone knocks her onto one and she cries, ‘Oh, man!’ knowing that she’s now beached! That would be me.

A little further into the site, there was an area with four themed pods where you could listen to audiobooks. On the Winnie the Pooh one, the audiobook was playing through the 'hunny' pot but the others involved wearing hats or picking up the phone. The photos aren't the best as they're selfies but hopefully give you some idea of the set-up.

There were two large orange signs – one spelling READ and another HARROGATE, some giant fake-grass chairs, a ‘murder bench’ (a plastic bench with blood splats on it) and a few other bits and bobs ideal for photo opportunities so, if you’ve seen photos, you’ll have seen these.

But it wasn’t quite as big as I expected. I thought there’d be more marquees, more people, more atmosphere. And, most importantly, more seats. My goodness, there was a lack of outside seating. If a group managed to bag some chairs, they quite rightly hung onto them for dear life if one of the members nipped off for any reason.

I found the lack of seating surprising as, looking around, the age profile was predominantly 50+ and there were lots of attendees walking with the aids of sticks and others wearing knee bandages/support. And that’s only taking note of the visible symptoms of mobility challenges. What about all those with dodgy knees, bad backs, aching feet etc who don’t want to/can’t stand for long periods of time?

There were no steps to get up onto the giant chairs. I’m small and very overweight so there’s no way I can haul myself up onto one or expect someone to give me a leg up. It’s mortifying when kind people offer to help pull you up and you know you weigh ten tonne and they’ll do themselves (and you) an injury trying so have to make out you’re not bothered about joining in the fun when you really would like to. We managed to borrow a chair for one of the group to get up but it was whipped back before I could join in. A bit later, we did spot an empty chair so I finally got my turn. Steps, people! Small steps would be so good to have!

The main beer tent carried an aroma. I’d have understood if it was a beer smell like in a pub but it was more like an unemptied bins smell. Yum yum! We’re not talking just at the end of the festival after several hot days. I walked through first thing on the Friday and was hit with it. By Sunday, it was stronger. Mmmm.

There weren’t many food concessions either. There was a food van selling Greek food and a stall doing burgers/sausages but that was all I saw. I wondered if this is because there are loads of cafes and pubs a short walk from the hotel but I hadn’t realised before the event that we would really need to wander off site to eat. I appreciate this is an assumption on my part but it threw me a bit.

Several of the talks were in the form of panel discussions where four authors were asked questions by a host who was either an author or someone connected to writing or publishing. These were held in a huge marquee on the car park at the back of the hotel and were very well organised, ran to time and had great sound quality. As all the chairs were on one level and I’m vertically challenged, I couldn’t really see the stage but there were video screens which were great to watch. I can’t fault the set-up of these.

I only made it to one of the two talks I’d booked for the Friday because I joined my publisher for lunch and wouldn’t be back from that in time for the second one. Lunch was lovely and I didn’t mind missing the talk at all as I had a chance to catch up with some of the marketing team, one of the editors, and several other authors.

Four of us – Valerie Keogh, Diane Saxon, Clare Swatman and me – wandered back together and I spent most of the afternoon with them as Sharon had put her back out, bless her, and wanted to rest in the hotel to build up the strength to get through the very full day we had on the Saturday. I loved the 'murder 'chalk' outlines around town in honour of the event.

I saw romance author Cass Grafton and met a couple of lovely book bloggers who I haven’t met in person before – Linda Hill and Jill Doyle from Jill’s Book Café. They’ve both been really supportive of my writing and it was great to have a chance to chat to them.

As the group I was with started making plans to drift off, I said my goodbyes and headed into the town in search of some food to take back for Sharon and me. My goodness, it was boiling! I’d been steadily melting all day but Harrogate is pretty hilly and walking up the hills into town in search of sustenance then back to the hotel up and down hills took it out of me. I arrived back at the hotel a sweaty mess desperate to jump into a cold shower.

Sharon then joined me in my room and we ate our tea together before she said I looked fit to drop and she’d leave me in peace. We joked that we hopefully wouldn’t see each other shortly after 11pm for another fire alarm.

We shouldn’t have joked about it.

This time it was 11.45pm when the fire alarm went off. I was asleep, although not in as deep a sleep as the previous night. I’ll admit I swore very loudly as I stomped across the room to pull my trousers on again and repeated the traipsing down the stairs from the night before. Again, no signs of fire or smoke. We were let back into our rooms after 15-20 minutes this time. I couldn’t get back to sleep. There were bags inside the bags under my eyes by Saturday morning.

With our Saturday Rover ticket, Sharon and I could have gone to loads of talks across but decided to go to about half of them as it was warm in the marquee and it’s a lot of listening to do them back to back. We nipped into town for lunch and found a lovely pub called The Fat Badger - love that name! - and bagged some outside seats. I met the said fat badger inside when I went to order our food. Except he wasn't fat at all which was a little disappointing! But he was looking very dapper so I couldn't resist a selfie with him.

During the afternoon, we spent some time chatting to super supportive book blogger Anne Williams and author friends Lynda Stacey and Jennifer Page. I met fellow-Boldwood author Rachel Dove for the first time which was lovely and, with the lack of seating available, sat on the grass and seriously impressed myself by managing to get up again without assistance. Absolute miracle!

Every talk that day was excellent. I heard from some really interesting authors and have a list of books I’d love to add to my Kindle. If only I could find time to read them all! The penultimate talk we attended was special guest Dorothy Koomson who was amazing.

We’d arranged to meet Helen Phifer for tea. She’d booked a table at a delicious Italian restaurant not too far from the hotel and then I rushed us back to the site to attend the 8pm talk with Richard Osman. We joined the queue at 7.45pm, surprised that it wasn’t longer, and waited and waited. Why weren’t they letting us in? Was he running late? Was there a technical problem inside? No. It was me being a muppet. The talk wasn’t due to start until 8.30pm. Oops! 

Queuing on a slope for nearly 45 mins was not particularly comfortable and poor Sharon’s back! But the talk was amazing. Richard Osman is such a warm, engaging, funny teddy bear of a man and I hung on his every word. Could have listened to him all evening but, all too soon, it was the end and we were heading back to the hotel after a very long, tiring day.

We hardly dared joke about the fire alarm going off again. Thankfully it didn’t but guess what? The fear of it going off meant I barely slept. Worst three nights I’ve ever spent in a hotel. I did contact the manager today to see if there was any chance of a partial refund (we’d paid on arrival so there was no point having this discussion when checking out) but it’s a no. I was offered a great rate and room upgrade should I return to the hotel but Harrogate is normally a day trip for me and I don’t anticipate going to the crime festival again so I won’t be taking her up on this offer. I know it’s not the staff’s fault and I can’t fault the efficiency of getting everyone out into the car park but the alarm went off both times due to sensitivity of alarms with guests having hot showers with the bathroom door open and spraying deodorant in their room (possibly after vaping, which is banned). If the alarms are that sensitive, then guests should be asked on check-in to make sure bathroom doors are closed and spray deodorants only used in the bathroom. I did point this out as a suggestion in my email but it wasn’t acknowledged. Oh well.

After three sleepless nights, I was glad we had little planned on the Sunday. We were booked into a 12noon talk with special guest Elly Griffiths but that was it. Helen joined us for breakfast then headed home and we loaded our cases into my car and wandered down to The Old Swan for the last time.

There were still a couple of talks on that day so I imagined everything would still be running but they were already starting to pack things away. Sharon and I had arranged to meet a friend – indie crime writer Joy Wood – at 11am at the murder bench. We arrived about 15 minutes early and were waiting there when some of the events team came to take it away! They said they’d come back later but I was so stunned that it was going to be whipped away before the festival was finished. It felt almost as though the Sunday was a non-event.

Elly’s talk was amazing and I’m so glad we booked it. One thing I particularly loved was that the author who hosted it – Stig Abell – said how much he loves a love story in a crime novel and how he likes to include one in his. How refreshing to hear crime writers talking about romance having a place in their novels. Not that either of them will read this but I’d like to give them a huge thank you for saying that.

After that, we had a quick photo op with Joy and then it was time to collect the car and head home. It looked like we might just make it for a train an hour earlier for Sharon but we stopped for lunch halfway home for a little too long and it was a slow journey behind several tractors so it was looking tight. Her train was due at 4.06pm. We pulled into the station at 4.04pm. There was a locked gate to get through and go over the line. If that had been activated, we were stuffed. I grabbed Sharon’s case while she opened the gate and she just made it. As she was walking up the slope on the other side, the train was pulling in. Phew!

Last night, back in my own bed, there was a fan to keep me cool and no fire alarms. Could I sleep? Could I heck! Okay, maybe a bit but I think I was overly exhausted by this point so it was fitful.

I’m glad I went to Harrogate as I’d wondered about it so often. I loved the talks and it was great to catch up with a few friends and meet a few new ones but I think it’ll just be a one-off for me. It’s expensive before factoring in the cost of accommodation, food and travel. I get why. The costs of putting on an event like that must be phenomenal and the time it must take to plan and prepare cannot be underestimated but the cost does make attending big decision. It’s tiring - all conferences and festivals are - and I don’t have the staying power to do anything on an evening so I probably did miss out on some atmosphere and possible big-name-author-spotting. Plus, I’m not a drinker so a beer tent and karaoke when you’re on diet coke isn’t so much fun.

The standing was too much (more seating pretty please!) and, if I’m honest, I felt a bit out of place as a romance author there. More my issue than anything to do with the festival but there were a couple of comments and conversations that hurt and made me feel a bit dismissed. I wish I could let them go but that’s not how my mind works and I know they’ll live in my sensitive little head and niggle for a long time to come.

Summary: plenty of highs, a few lows, two fire engines, some peculiar smells, amazing speakers, some great photos and no refunds.

Hope you enjoyed the photos and hope that the rest of July is kind to you.

Big hugs

Jessica xx

PS I probably haven’t mentioned everyone I spoke to so apologies if we chatted and I missed you off – not an intended sleight x

PPS A couple of the photos are from friends’ phones but they’re all mingled with mine and I can’t remember which were on whose camera now but thanks to all those who took and shared pics x