Yesterday was a pretty awesome day – the second Saturday in a row which reminded me how much I love living in London. Of course, I had heard Pride was happening because it was all over the media, but to be honest yesterday morning I was in two minds about going: did I really want to go to a massive LBGTQ+ march in Central London? Wouldn’t it be easier to stay local and perhaps watch some cricket. However, as usual, my curiosity won the day and at about noon I was heading up there on the Elisabeth Line.

My initial plan had been to head for Bond Street. Truth be told I didn’t really know what was happening, where: I just wanted to go see what was going on, then probably come home. On the tube, though, I noticed a lot of people in all kinds of costumes getting off at Tottenham Court Road, so I decided to do the same.

I instantly saw that was a very good decision: right outside the station I rolled straight into a huge party. There was music and dancing and people wearing all kinds of weird, cool costumes. I followed the crowd, and further down the road I found a stage had been set up. All kinds of acts were being performed there, from drag queens belting out Tina Turner classics to gay men’s choirs. It was still early, and the audience was still relatively thin. Feeling slightly out of place, I began to wonder whether I had time to rush home and put my tutu on then make it back, but decided it would complicate matters too much.

I sat there in the street among the growing crowd for a bit, before noticing a nearby pub. It looked old but accessible. Feeling thirsty, I rolled up to the door but the security guy there initially refused to let me in. On my Ipad I asked him why, a couple of people in the pub got involved, there was a short argument about inclusivity, and eventually I was let in. It was a great old place: rather small, clearly centuries old with real ales on tap, but with a great view of the stage through the window.

The rest of my afternoon was spent there, talking to all kinds of people and having my beers bought for me. (I offered to pay every time). I had all kinds of conversations, most quite deep and well informed, about things like whether the gay community, like the disabled community, is expanding. With all the music coming from the stage outside, it was a marvellous afternoon.

At about five I decided to head home. By then things were getting really, really busy. I would love to have stayed, but circumstances dictated otherwise – besides, I hadn’t eaten all afternoon. Nonetheless, having gone to my first Gay pride event feels fantastic: it’s such an inclusive, welcoming community. With such stages having apparently set up all over central London, not just the one I stumbled onto, I couldn’t help wondering whether the disability community could do something similar on a similar scale: a festival of disability pride would certainly be awesome. Either way, I’m now sure that yesterday won’t be the only Gay Pride event I’ll ever go to. Yesterday gave me a taste of something truly fantastic, and I’m now looking forward to the one next year. It was a wonderful celebration of human diversity, inclusion and love. Next time, though, I’ll definitely have to wear something far more exotic.