Fountains Abbey.
Or, as my mom referred to it "that damn abbey". I'll explain....
We took the train from London to York, spent a couple of days checking out the city, especially York Minster. It was a month after there had been a major fire. We could see the damage but most of the building was open. We also made multiple visits to Betty's. 
I picked up a car and we drove to Fountains Abbey on our way to Masham, where our B&B was located. We were walking around the abbey and I suddenly heard my mom cry out in pain. She was on the ground, gasping like a fish out of water. I thought she was having a heart attack and I was wondering what to do. Pre-cell phone era, and the place was pretty deserted on a weekday. Turns out Mom had tripped and knocked the wind out of herself. She recovered pretty quickly and we made our way to the bed and breakfast, where she took a hot bath in a gloriously huge bathtub (Brits have the best bathtubs!). The hosts served a dinner of Nidderdale trout that had been caught just a few hours earlier. And I had my first sticky toffee pudding. We ended up staying in Masham and doing some day trips around Yorkshire instead of heading to the Lake District, which was our original destination. The G&Ts and the excellent draft beer at the B&B had nothing to do with our extending our stay....
Despite all those nice things that happened, Mom still referred to Fountains as that damn abbey.
edit: I see Bank Villa is still there! Though it seems it is just a hotel rather than a B&B.
