Couple moves to Happy Valley and reckon it’s ‘better than it is on TV’

A couple who moved to the real-life Happy Valley says “it’s way better than it is on TV”, describing the area as a “glorious, undiscovered gem”.

Faye Preston and her husband Ben moved during lockdown from Hull to Todmorden, one of the West Yorkshire filming locations for the hit BBC series.

The Calder Valley, Halifax, Hebden Bridge, and Heptonstall are among the other towns serving as the backdrop for Sally Wainwright’s crime drama.

Faye, a die-hard fan of Happy Valley, and reporter for Yorkshire Live, has described what living in real-life Happy Valley is like for newcomers.

She wrote: “For my husband, the valley is his playground as he disappears for hours on end running the terrain of the Pennines or navigating his way through moorland and woods with the dog.

“For me? Independent shops selling all manner of handmade pretty things, excellent pubs and like-minded people who live by the ‘kindness’ ethos that is the beating heart of the town.

“So much so, the word is spelled out in various locations, just like the Hollywood sign. Residents truly live by it and I love it.

“There’s live music every night in some shape or form – from open mic night at the Golden Lion to ‘Karaoke with Linda’ on a Sunday at The Duke of York.

“Tod Almighty is the best shop for veggie ingredients.

“The town is the founding home of the Incredible Edible project and the bloke who runs the bottle shop gives me discount wine for being a loyal customer – and buys my favourite tipple in each week, just for me.

“All sounds rather idyllic doesn’t it? Up until recently, I truly thought Happy Valley was just that and named so because the people are happy. How shamefully naive for a journalist.

“For those who also haven’t cottoned on, it is actually the nickname given to the area by local bobbies who have to deal with the fallout of its apparent raging drug problem.

“I am living smack bang on the county line route between Manchester’s drug gangsters and West Yorkshire’s dealers and addicts.

“I know I am lucky though. Because I am firmly inside my cosy little bubble, made out of traditional, old millstone and comfy tapestry throws.

“In fact, I wouldn’t have a clue how to get my hands on some drugs. Unless the drugs of choice can be bought over the counter at Boots.

“I do not know anyone hooked on the stuff and I don’t physically see the devastating impact drugs can have to a person readily on the streets – unlike Hull’s city centre, or Manchester and Leeds for that matter.

“But I do know it goes on here. For starters, I can smell it in the air most days.

“I know that if I was brave enough to knock on a certain door along my well-trodden dog walk, I would likely get high just by being invited in for a cuppa – because I am certain the owners would, them being from friendly, wonderful Tod and all.

“Just recently, I accidentally breathed in the second-hand smoke of a joint being passed around teenagers hanging about the empty market stalls during a warm down at my running club.

“We left a little light-headed that night and it had nothing to do with endorphins.

“In the summer, the weed smoking seems to ramp up, or people get a little more liberal – if that’s even possible for Todmorden.

“You can see the thick, creamy smoke in the air from people openly smoking it on the street.

“And to be honest? I have very little problem with it. Each to their own, kindness and all that, live and let live.

“In any case, there’s the argument that stoners are far less likely to cause chaos – unlike the drunks spilling out of the pubs on a weekend.

“But it isn’t cannabis that is the problem, really.

“For cops, it is the hard stuff and I am happy to say I’ve not directly encountered this epidemic.

“Sure, there are plenty of signs it is here – from the clear, miniature, plastic pockets strewn along the canal towpath to the discarded needles in the bushes at the park.

“Just the other night I ended up walking a man home who told me he had, in the past, been the victim of cuckooing.

“We had got talking because I suspected – rightly or wrongly – that two lads on the train back from Leeds to Manchester were trying to take advantage of him.

“They showed a strange interest in him after the man had shown the ticket inspector his disability card.

“Something felt off so I asked if he was alright. Thankfully, the pair did not get off at Todmorden and presumably carried on their trip to Manchester.

“But really, this isn’t unique to Calder Valley, Tod, Hebden or Huddersfield. It is a problem that spans the length and breadth of West Yorkshire – and indeed Yorkshire and beyond.

“People will always want to get their kicks – and there will always be those willing to supply it at risk of their liberty and knowing the destruction drugs can cause.

“And it is definitely not what Happy Valley is known for by the people who don’t have a uniform but who live and work there. For us, it is so much more.

“And for me and Ben, it has given us so much – I can work in Leeds while he works in Manchester.

“We can’t afford a garden but there are acres and acres of free land for our rescue dog Riley.

“We love a night out and can hop on a train in either direction for Leeds or Manchester within the hour.

“We are three miles from Hebden Bridge so we can pop there on foot for a mooch and a pint.

“And, while moving in lockdown means it’s taken a bit longer to meet ‘our people’, we know that there are so many kind, happy, welcoming people in Tod – we just need to find them.

“Ben has already done this through the Todmorden Harriers running club. Me? Apart from my mate Sue from the Monday (running) Club, I think I’ll probably find mine down the pub a little more organically.

“One thing is for sure, since Happy Valley and the hype around it happened six weeks ago, my friends and family back home can’t wait for their next visit – and like a true Todmordian, we welcome them, and anyone else who fancies a stay in the real Calder Valley, with open arms.

“Just don’t ask us where you can score, most wouldn’t have a clue.”