England... It May Be Your Cup of Tea!

By Ing Wong

When I was a little girl, one of my dreams was to go to England. I’d spend hours reading British children’s mystery novels, imagining that I was traipsing through castles in search of bad guys. In university I took a couple of courses in British history. My resolve to visit England one day strengthened.

This past summer I got my chance. My boyfriend, Tim, was invited to attend his cousin’s wedding in Oxfordshire, England. I leapt at the chance to see the English countryside and guzzle as much tea as I possibly could.

Of course, I knew there could be some problems. Friends with and without disabilities had told me that England was notoriously inaccessible because most buildings were so old. I was also told that I’d have to be flexible in travelling through the countryside, since public transit was not accessible. By the time I had heard all this, I decided that nothing was going to stop me from seeing England. I would have to make my own access.

My first task was to decide what kind of wheelchair I was going to take. In Toronto, where I live, I get around in a power wheelchair. I decided to leave it at home and take my manual chair instead, given the cross country travelling I was intent on doing. It turned out to be the best decision I made. I discovered that most public facilities were not wheelchair accessible, and navigating stairs in a power chair would have been impossible.

My trip began at Heathrow Airport. I got through customs easily and found my luggage without problems, and the British Airways flight attendants had allowed me to stow my wheelchair on the plane. It was all going very smoothly... until I had to leave the airport.

There are a number of ways to leave the airport. You can rent a car for big bucks, or you can take a taxi, bus or train to wherever you’re headed. At this stage of my trip I was heading to Warwick, which is next door to Stratford on Avon, birthplace of William Shakespeare.

Tim suggested we take the bus, as that was one of the most cost efficient ways to travel. Unfortunately, the bus I took was not accessible. Tim carried me onto the bus and stowed my wheelchair in the luggage compartment. Soon we were on our way... that is, once we managed to get out of the airport. This took 45 minutes because of the number of terminals that are spread throughout Heathrow.

As we drove along the highways, I was bowled over by the rolling green hills and country homes we zoomed past. This was the English countryside as I had always pictured it. To top it off, the weather was sunny and warm, quite unlike the cold, damp weather I had been told to expect.

We arrived in Warwick an hour after we had picked up our last passenger at Heathrow. There was no bus station in Warwick, which is a tiny community. Tim and I were dropped off by a gas station, where we called for a cab to take us to his grandmother’s house. Warwick turned out to be a beautiful town. But like many smaller communities throughout the world, access was sorely lacking. Most stores had one or two steps up to the front door, making getting around that much harder. However, its two main attractions had been made as accessible as possible.

Warwick Castle was built in the time of William the Conqueror, nearly a thousand years ago. While the interior of the castle is not wheelchair accessible, due to the many stairs and narrow hallways, I was told that the gardens, including the arboretum, had been made accessible. I spent much of my time in the rose garden, which was filled with hundreds of colourful roses. I also visited the peacocks strutting in the peacock garden.

Then Tim took me to the edge of the Avon River. I lay on the banks and stared at the swans floating by. This, I thought, is perfect. Talk about a dream coming true!

The next day, we visited St. Mary’s Cathedral in the centre of town. Tim’s parents had been married there, and he had been baptized there as well. The church was unlike anything I’d seen, with its intricate stained glass and ancient stone floors. We visited the tombs of royalty. Any area that had steps either had been made accessible with portable ramps, or people nearby gladly gave us a hand. We even went down to the catacombs, essentially the basement, to have tea. I had to be carried down, but it was worth seeing how old the foundation of the building was.

Later that week we took the train from Warwick to Woking, in Surrey, where Tim’s aunt lives. Woking is a London suburb. We stayed with his aunt during the few days we spent in London.

Our trip started at the Warwick train station. We had purchased tickets the day before for an early morning train that would apparently deliver us to Woking three hours later.

When we arrived at the station, the person behind the desk told us our train had caught fire and we would have to take a taxi to a neighbouring station. Fortunately, in these situations, the station pays for the taxi. However, we would have to wait until the cab showed up, which could be anytime. We decided not to wait, and asked to phone for the taxi. There was no public phone. We raced down the street in search of a phone, which is when we spotted the cab. The driver was heading for the train station and refused to pick us up because we weren’t at the station. We raced back, only to spot him leaving with a carload of people!

Upon further inquiry, we discovered we could take a different train and route to reach our destination. However, we had not been given this information because the train would arrive at a platform that was inaccessible. The ticket seller had been trying to make sure I wasn’t going to be inconvenienced, but hadn’t bothered asking if it would be an inconvenience.

We discovered later that we could have booked wheelchair accessible seats, but again weren’t told this by the ticket seller in Warwick. As it turns out, although you may book a wheelchair accessible seat, it doesn’t mean you’ll get it. I spent one threehour journey in the dining car because a British Rail officer told me I didn’t have the proper ticket. It later turned out that my seat had been booked. I just hadn’t been told.

I also was never offered a concessionary fare. British citizens with disabilities receive a card for a third off rail tickets, and visitors with disabilities are allowed the same concession. We were told we weren’t able to have a reduced fare without the proper papers. If I’d known then what I later found out, I would have challenged them on it.

Tim and I eventually arrived in Woking in one piece. However, in the process of our journey, we switched trains at least five times. In one morning, I took every kind of train available in England!

Woking turned out to be more accessible that I’d thought. The local shopping centre was easy to get around and every street corner had curb cuts, and raised tiles for people who are blind. Unlike Warwick, I saw many people with disabilities out, doing their business. But, most importantly, Woking was near London, the place I had spent most of my life wanting to visit. We took the train to London, using a day pass that would allow us to use all public transportation, including the Underground subway system.

We arrived in London at the Piccadilly Circus station. After being hauled up hundreds of steps, I looked up to see the hustle and bustle of London. And it was breathtaking. London is a living museum, and Piccadilly Circus was no exception. Each building was at least a few hundred years old, with ornate stonework that no longer exists in modern architecture.

On my first day we visited Bucking ham Palace, Big Ben, the Thames River and a number of other tourist attractions. Most sites are within walking distance of one another, so we didn’t need to take the double decker buses. If we did need to travel long distances, we took the Underground. While that was difficult to negotiate, many people were more than happy to help.

While everything thrilled me, my favourite stop was St. Paul’s Cathedral, which is used regularly for royal functions. I was expecting access problems when we first saw the bank of steps up to the main entrance. But St. Paul’s had recently renovated a side entrance that is now fully accessible.

Inside, I had no difficulty getting around, as I stared at the marble statues and high ceilings. I had never been in such a large cathedral, and was awestruck by the architecture and history in every corner.

It wasn’t so easy finding an accessible washroom. I realized I had the urge after St. Paul’s closed for the evening. Tim and I went searching. We came across an arrow that indicated an accessible washroom a block away. When we got there, I realized there was a small problem. In Europe, there are accessible public washrooms everywhere. But there’s a catch. A person with a disability must apply to the washroom manufacturer for a key. If you don’t have the key, you don’t get to use it. Regular washrooms can be opened by depositing a coin, but to prevent homeless people from using the accessible washrooms as a shelter, keys are needed to open the door. I didn’t have access to a key and ended up spending an hour looking for appropriate facilities.

During my next day in London, we visited the Tower of London, where members of the aristocracy had been executed centuries ago. Like Warwick Castle, the interior of the tower is not accessible, but I was given a concessionary fare and the chance to see the crown jewels.

The jewels are encased deep inside a large vault. Previously, visitors had to line up on a flight of stairs to see the jewels, but recent renovations have made the vault fully accessible. When I saw the jewels, I stunned by their brilliance. Each one was more dazzling than the other. Then I saw the Star of Africa, the largest cut diamond in the world. It’s as big as a baseball and as brilliant as the sun. I had to take a few looks to confirm that it was indeed real.

My final day in London was spent shopping. Tim and I started in Camden Town, a funky community similar to Queen Street West in Toronto with its silver jewellery vendors and tattooed inhabitants. If you’re interested in buying Doc Marten boots, this is the place to go. Every style of Docs known to humanity is sold in Camden.

While Camden was exciting, our next stop was a little more conservative.

Harrods of Knightsbridge is in the swankiest part of London. Harrods, of course, is one of the most exclusive stores in the world. Its intention is to sell everything, and it does. We visited the food hall, where we found McCains frozen fries close to beluga caviar. We also stared at Rolex watches with price tags that equal the cost of most homes, but we quickly left after the salespeople stared back at us.

Our final stop was Harvey Nicols. It’s another exclusive store, one that Princess Diana frequents. It’s not quite as huge as Harrods, but I happily made a few minuscule purchases in the cosmetics department.

For the rest of the evening, we walked throughout London, watching the sun go down. I realized that my dream had come true and I would be left with many happy memories. I’d like to visit London again. There’s a lot that I didn’t see that I’m saving for next time. In the meantime, I’ll be polishing my wheelchair for another jetsetting adventure.

(Ing Wong co-hosts Disability Network on CBC Television. She is a seasoned traveller and lives in Toronto, Ontario.)