A trip to the UK's lesbian capital

our transformational weekend in a tiny Yorkshire market town full of gay people

Lynette’s car wouldn’t start. It was midday on Friday, my birthday, and the parking lot was bathed in weak winter sunlight that threatened to peace out at any minute. I’d wanted to be on the road already to catch the only day of the weekend, per the ever-shifting weather report, that promised a few precious rain-free hours. Hebden Bridge, population 4,500, a little over an hour away from our flat in Preston, Lancashire, was locally famous for many reasons, including particularly beautiful walking trails in the hills. Today was our dedicated walking day, but the sun would be setting in less than four hours and now the car wasn’t starting.

Trains weren’t running because of the rail strikes. I didn’t begrudge workers fighting for fair terms, but I did begrudge the stupid car. Today, of all days? A taxi with a £15 surcharge for Gus would cost nearly £100. '“Another needless expense,” Lynette fumed. I asked her if we could maybe not worry too much about money if only for my birthday, especially because it seemed we had no other choice.