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Actually, by the time we got there, it was not a lot more than 24 hours in the Leeds area. My London friend and I disembarked from the train at around 12.45 on Saturday, having gone the opposite way to the Leeds United fans whom we thought had been the reason for a heavy and sinister police presence at Kings Cross.

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We met another couple of mates who had come across country from Liverpool, got ourselves booked into the Discovery Inn across the road, then headed back to the station for a train to Saltaire.

I'd never heard of this World Heritage Site before, but it's supposed to be the best example of a village built for workers around a mill. Its name comes from the River Aire, and Sir Titus Salt, who built the textile mill beside the river. Before we visited the mill, we crossed the river to take the Shipley Glen Tramway up the hill to the pub near the top. The beer was good but we missed out on lunch as they stopped taking orders at 2 pm and we arrived a few minutes late. So we settled for cheese on toast in the cafe next door and found ourselves gatecrashing a birthday party for Martin, who had lived in the area for well over 40 years.

The mill was a bit disappointing. We couldn't find the history gallery and I've had to learn all about it afterwards from a website. We did wander around two floors of retail outlet (if I'd had my car in London I'd have bought some Christmas presents, but I had enough clobber to carry home on the train). Around the walls they did have a good Hockney exhibition that I found interesting. I really liked his dog drawings that I hadn't met before.

Leeds itself has some fantastic architecture, as we saw on our early evening pub crawl. (One of our number was a beer ticker, and the rest of us were happy to follow in his wake and have the odd half pint wherever we ended up.) But walking the streets when it was getting towards 9 pm wasn't very pleasant. The nightclubs were open that early and they seemed to be everywhere, together with their bouncers and the smokers that congregated outside each one. We all retired early.

Kirkstall Abbey was our destination the next morning, but first we did the museum because it opened an hour earlier than the ruin itself and we were too early. Anyway the museum was a delight. The ground floor was done out as a Victorian street complex with various shops and a couple of dwellings. As I wandered in and out I suddenly realised that, for the first time ever, I was in a pub with no beer. Upstairs was mainly devoted to children's toys and activities, with quite a bit of interactive stuff to keep kiddies' attention. The whole thing was housed in an old Abbey gatehouse with a spiral staircase, wood panelled rooms, plus a roomy cafe (the hall, maybe) where we sipped our coffee under a high vaulted ceiling.

When you visit Kirkstall Abbey, you enter through the former monks' toilet, they are at pains to inform you. Bits of the ruin have been carefully, and sensitively restored. I found the most fascinating story was the one telling of the main road that once went right through the nave of the church.

A bus ride away in the town centre, the Art Gallery is sandwiched between the Town Hall and the Henry Moore Institute. Here I found an old friend, Stubb's Whistlejacket, which I've seen on two or three occasions before, despite the notice that said this was its first appearance in a public exhibition. Anyway I love the painting and was happy to find it again.

And that was Leeds over and done with. Time to say goodbye to my pals and take the 3.40 back to Kings Cross.

Next year we're thinking of meeting up in York.

(Sorry I didn't have my camera, but you can see pics of all these places if you google them).