Beyond the Kitchen: Beautiful Landscape, Dog Poo and a Brilliant Cinema.
What it's like living in Hebden Bridge, a rural town in West Yorkshire, UK.
We moved from Manchester to Hebden Bridge eight years ago today.
Gryffin was sixteen months old, I had given up work to be a full time mum and Jon was commuting every day to Manchester University for work.
We had visited Hebden several times over the years, always on walks that would end up at the Fox & Goose until the last train home. After a year of pushing the pram around the concrete heavy part of South Manchester where we lived, we started looking at rural commuter towns.
To our surprise, we found a little terraced house in Hebden Bridge that we could afford. It needed gutting from the ground up, but we figured once we’d bought it, we would do work as and when we had the money.
Two of the most exhausting years of my life: living in a building with a toddler and then quickly becoming pregnant again.
We stripped, knocked down, removed, replaced, sanded, rewired, replastered, painted.
The first summer felt like a holiday. Gryffin and I pottered around the town square, discovering the Donker bread at Blue Sky baker, feeding frozen peas to the ducks on the canal and becoming extremely familiar with the swings at the park.
In some ways it reminded me of my childhood in Barcelona, looking after my younger brother. People are generally friendly with kids here, and if you have time to hang around, there’s always someone to linger and talk with.
When winter arrived, we still had no curtains or rugs. The snow was so heavy one month that the trains stopped between Manchester and Hebden, whilst Gryffin and I holed ourselves up in the attic room with crumpets, blankets and Cbeebies for days.
I took Gryffin to playgroups, which I never felt entirely comfortable at. I chatted to other parents at the park, but struggled to connect with anyone. It took around a year until I started to make friends beyond the (extremely welcoming) neighbours on our street.
When the weather allowed, I would take Gryffin out in the rucksack carrier every day, for as long as I could. I loved our walks through the woods, up steps and across fields. He would chatter into my ear while I collected leaves and long grass for the kitchen.
Eight years in, our lives have changed, the kids are older, I am greyer and slightly more sceptical, but these are the things I still love about Hebden Bridge:
It’s a small town and the kids feel safe and familiar pretty much wherever they go.
Leaving the house means you will invariably bump into someone you know.
The friends we have made here.
The 1930’s picture house.
The beautiful landscape. We witness every season in its full blown glory. Walking around the valley in springtime is like a gentle acid trip. Everything is brighter, more vivid, out to play in the sunshine. Autumn is luxurious, cosy, dazzling.
The architecture. I love an old Yorkshire stone building and cobbled street.
The creative buzz. It’s a town full of artists, writers and thinkers. Ten days ago we took part in the Handmade Parade, mainly because they are based in a warehouse five minutes from our home, and it was so easy to take part and make costumes. It can be easy to take this for granted now.
The weekly market for fresh fruit, veg, bread and fish.
The fact that as rural towns go, it’s not quite as white and conservative as many.
The brilliant schools.
The deer we often see in the woods or running across the tops.
The community. After the floods and during the lockdowns, people came together and showed an inspiring amount of solidarity, generosity and resilience.
The town facebook group for disgruntled posts about the parking and updates on what the geese by the church are doing.
Eight years in, and these are the things I’m not as keen on:
It’s a small town, and that goes hand in hand with everyone knowing everyone’s business.
Leaving the house means you will invariably bump into someone you know.
The long, dark winter. Up until early January is delightful. From mid january to the end of April is a slog.
The slight smugness as a consequence of it being a fairly liberal, arty town.
The empty shops due to the extortionate rent expected by landlords.
The limited housing. Houses are quickly bought up and many are turned into airbnbs.
Valley fever. This is an intense place. You have to get out often or you will lose your mind a little and lose all perspective.
The town facebook group for the comments on the disgruntled posts about the parking and updates on what the geese by the church are doing.
The dog poo. Just pick it up.
When visiting Hebden Bridge, go here:
Thursday food market, Friday second hand market, Saturday and Sunday mixed market
I never expected to stay here this long. But it’s easy to. The kids are happy and it still takes my breath away, every time I return after a trip away.
There are things I miss about living in a city, and I think I will always have one foot pointing outwards, but I am deeply aware of how lucky we are.
Oh and a word of warning: whatever you do when you visit, do not ask the staff in Nisa for a photo op because you recognise the shop from Happy Valley. You won’t survive it.
Java x
Good thing you didn't make it too enticing - the place would be inundated...but couldn't find mention of the cinema that's in the title...it is such a gem?
Nodding to all of this. You moved here nine months after me.