The Best In Queer Travel

“Every time I wake up in the morning tired, and trying to balance work and the bar, I think about the impact that we’re having,” says Riddle. “and will have for a good few more years to come.”

No trip to Turkey is complete without a visit to the beaming light that is Bigudi.

“Seriously, there’s nothing out there for us, there’s nowhere you can have all three components – good vibes, good drinks, good music and feel safe and feel okay to sit in a bar alone as a woman.”

“Sexual freedom is a big part of Butch Please. As a butch dyke, my sexuality is policed in a very public and deep way so it’s crucial that this space is somewhere we feel free to express our sexuality.” 

Naturally, a ranch festival can’t be all about nightlife – the blue cloudless skies, sandy beaches, and cool Mediterranean breeze, call your hungover ass to action no matter what you imbibed the night before.

“Thank God, and thank the lesbians.” 

There’s no sadness that a gay bar can’t cure.

In spite of the pain, I’ve found a strength and trust in myself.

People rather sheepishly sat around in a big circle waiting for a dominatrix to start a game of spin-the-bottle…

I am grateful for the safety of this space, for the community it contains, for those late night conversations with strangers that make you feel aware, awake and part of something.

Picturesque sunsets, laid back beaches, endless vineyards, farm-to-table dinners, chic shoppes, iconic views, and rich history. Long Island’s North Fork is just 90 miles from New York City, but it feels like a different world.

Mermaids, a junkyard, and drag, oh my!

Queers are magic, even in the middle of an RV park.

Anywhere is truly the happiest place on earth when it’s filled with happy Queers. 

The thought of driving through the South on purpose, as a butch dyke, was a vision of my gay hell.  But for the first stop of our tiny Pride tour, Country Roads, Take Me Homo, a small town is exactly where we ended up.

Country Roads, Take Me Homo is an ongoing series chronicling Ty Yule’s experience at small town Pride events across America. 

You arrive in a new city, filled with new faces, tastes, sounds, and eventually, if you play your cards right, you’ll end up in a room of queers, sweaty and synchronized, the same baseline surging through your spines.

Thankfully, life for queer people in the south is changing along with our reputation and food.

100 lesbian, bi, queer, and just plain human moments that had extra special meaning for our entire community.

I will be missing America on Thanksgiving. There may not be pumpkin pie, or scarves or mittens. But there will be food shared among family and friends, and gratitude spoken to each other.

Salty-skinned lesbians dry in the scorching sun, drinking margaritas and pondering how lucky they are to be here…

“It’s almost taking us back to a time when people really cared about each other.”

The goal is to not let go.

It was clear that I needed this community if I was going to learn how to skate.

“We’re surrounded by Trump country — it looks like a bubble.”

We need these spaces.

Picking up a novel is a wonderful way to escape into the great unknown.

Minutes into the Facebook Live, we were taken by the (virtual) hand, and whisked away.

SnowGAY.

Nightlife is a serious art form.

The Lipstick Lounge is one of the finest looking lesbian bars I ever did see.

They have two words for you: “Just go.”

An unexpected journey.

“Private Parts must be covered at all times.”

You’ll never be bored in Dyke City.

It’s “The L Word” in Caribbean vacation form.