THIS is one of those columns where I could use double the available space. I left the interview laughing, which is always a good sign, but also with a slight sense of awe. For I had just encountered a rare phenomenon: an entrepreneur who likes to put a smile on the face of serious business.

With his 72nd birthday in sight, Malcolm Weaving, backed by his energetic, and somewhat younger, wife Karen, has just bought what in the past has been judged by some as something of a white elephant: the Randells-Hanover Hotel on Keighley Road, Skipton.

This is no humble B&B: the hotel has 75 bedrooms, a gymnasium, an indoor swimming pool and conference facilities for up to 420 people. What it has not had until now, in an estimation shared by many people I know, is a soul.

It has been in trouble since before it was even opened, the first owners running short of money for the final architectural finishes. It was then bought by the Hanover chain, which was itself acquired by a firm of tough takeover specialists. Deterred by running such a large building in a smallish market town, they put it on the market. And in stepped the Weavings.

Now this is most certainly not a case of fools rushing in. The Weavings know what they are doing and have indeed done it several times before.

They rescued the now famous Stirk House Hotel on the A59 at Gisburn when it was in steep decline, turned it into a hugely profitable operation - and then sold it for three times their purchase price.

But what absolutely delighted me - I did not expect to get a barrel of laughs on a bleak November morning at 9am sharp - is that they performed this and other business triumphs with a huge sense of fun.

For instance, when they were running Stirk House the BSE scandal hit, causing severe distress in the farming community. The Government (as always!) panicked and banned the sale of beef on the bone.

So Malcolm and Karen laid on a beef-on-the bone night which jammed their dining room with 180 guests, mostly farmers and their wives. Surely, I said, this was breaking the law - didn't they fear prosecution at a time of great political sensitivity?

Malcolm tapped the side of his nose and smiled: "We had thought up a way round that. I asked the butcher to strip the meat from the bones and cooked the two separately.

"Then, before we wheeled the huge joint into the dining room, we tied the meat back to the ribs with string. It got a standing ovation, like a hit West End play on its first night."

Now I hate to say this but most of the successful entrepreneurs I have met - some of them multi-millionaires - have been a pretty dour bunch and, to be frank, not people I easily like.

With these two, I felt like bosom friends after 20 minutes. Perhaps it is because they have seen the downs and well as the ups that makes them this way.

Malcolm came from a working class family in Huddersfield, the son of a dyer, and followed his dad into the trade after doing his national service in the army as a corporal cook, which gave him his first taste of mass catering.

Eventually, he bought out the firm he worked for and built it into a big name in the textile industry employing 200 people. He and Karen, newly married with a young son, lived in some style.

Then came the fall, brought about by new technology as so often happened in Yorkshire's textiles industry.

Virtually overnight, they were out of business and very, very hard up. It was only with the help of a friendly building society executive that they scraped together enough cash to buy into a new industry a long way away: a B&B on the Scottish island of Arran.

This was the beginning of the 20-year cycle, buying run-down catering businesses and building them into success stories.

They sold the Stirk House in 2002, bought a wine bar in Barrowford, to be run by their son Charlie, and, at 70, Malcolm could look forward to a quieter life. Then the Hanover came onto the market.

"Karen is 20 years younger than me and was bored with retirement. We also wanted to set something up for Charlie's future - so here we are," Malcolm chuckled, refusing to acknowledge that he was taking a pretty huge risk at his time of life.

Their first act was to change the name to Rendezvous@Skipton. Next, they plan to buy a barge for wedding parties on the canal behind the hotel, then a garden room on the canal side for those wedding parties should it rain.

That, I suppose, is indicative of long term planning from two catering pros. But it is the little touches I like best. They have, for instance, issued all the staff with little cards bearing the motto: "If you see someone without a smile, give them one of yours."

And, indeed, the staff were smiling, even though it was a wet, cold, miserable Tuesday morning. As I said earlier, many Skiptonians thought the Hanover was lacking in soul. If anyone can put it back, I'll bet it is Malcolm and Karen Weaving.