I'm going to see an evening with John Cleese in November, in Manchester with my brother Daniel. He lives not far from Manchester and normally I would require him to travel down to Stafford to pick me up to take us/me to Manchester. It's a Tuesday evening though and he's one of these responsible adults with a job.
"I'll get the train" I said confidently, as at this point it was July and the evening in question was a long way in the future. It was easy to say I would do it without thinking about the fact I was actually going to have to do it. Now it's in a couple of weeks and the thought of navigating the train station on my own made me apprehensive. I'm not the most confident bloke, but my trustee steed (iM4.Elite) is enabling me to get out of my comfort zone. So...
"I'll do a practice trip before the actual trip" I thought "Because I'll probably cock it up"
And guess what? I was right.
I cocked it up!
Mind the gap
Let me explain. Again, I remember that there was this very handy little blog called...oh what was it...oh, I remember! wheelchairworries.com 😁 it mentions that you can purchase a Disabled Persons Railcard (see post Wheelchair Worries - Social Prescribing. So I did, but it takes up to five days to process, so I thought I'd just do the journey without the card. I thought the only advantage of the railcard is that the ticket is cheaper. However, card or not, my dad informed me, I needed to tell the train company (Avanti) of my disability as they will need to provide a ramp to get onto the train.
Cock up number one.
Luckily my train was at 13:03 and the Trainline AI assistant told me I needed to give them a minimum of two hours notice. I called them on the morning of my trip and they arranged assistance telling me to go to the ticket office upon arrival.
My taxi got me there about 30 minutes early, the pessimist in me assumed something was going to go wrong and I wanted plenty of time to spare. Surely this wasn't going to go smoothly? I went straight to the ticket office and informed them of my arrival.
Starbucks
I was told somebody would come to the ticket office and take me to the platform. I even had time to go and get a Starbucks. The lady didn't know what time I needed to be back for, but she wasn't too fussed if I was here or in Starbucks. I would usually be stressed about all the things I could cock up and wouldn't relax until I was on the train. And that relaxed mood would quickly evaporate when I started thinking about getting off this train and getting to my connecting train.
I returned to the ticket office after I got my (iced) coffee. I was taken from the ticket office to the platform where the special assistance went to get a ramp and came back to help me onto the train.
This is already my favourite way to travel. Granted, my opinion will change when the infamous train delays affect me. But for now, it couldn't be going any better.
Getting onto the train wasn't particularly simple. The train is a good height above the platform and there is a decent sized gap between the platform and the train. I had my wheelchair on the lowest speed setting [PICTURE OF POWER] so as to reduce the speed of the impact when I inevitably run into the back of somebody - some might say I'm a bit of a liability - not the best driver. I disagree, I say I'm an excellent driver
A wheelchair users view
The ramp is quite steep but the iM.4 Elite is upto the task. I take an immediate left and then follow the corridor as it curves right to the carriage. It's incredibly tight. The corridor is barely wide enough to fit my wheelchair and I'd left the footrest down. A rookie mistake. It adds a couple of inches to the length which meant I was pinging off the walls like a pinball machine. The wheelchair space had luggage in it, but the passenger moved the luggage in question and I took up residence, opposite some more luggage. The driver came to see me to confirm I needed special assistance at Manchester Piccadilly. He told me to wait here when we reach my stop and somebody will set up a ramp, get me off the train and take me to the correct platform for my connecting train.
When I got off the train it was about 20 minutes till my connection to Oxford Road and the Starbucks had left me in need of the facilities.
Here was my first opportunity to cock it up 👍
It only took us about 5 minutes to get to the toilets and I only spent a minute or 2 using the facilities but we were going to miss the connection... Well, I don't see how we were definitely going to miss the connection, but there was no point rushing when the next train was an 8 minute wait. So the special assistance changed my booking to the next train on a different platform and took me to it. He made a call and phoned ahead to the next station and arranged assistance at the next station.
I kinda cocked it up, but an adult was around to sort it 😁
Have I mentioned that I love thiscompletely stress free method of travelling?
I boarded the train and by the time I positioned myself in the disabled space, the train had pulled into Manchester Oxford Road and I could hear the ramp being clicked into place.
Here was my opporunity to cock it up,an opportunity I took full advantage of. According to Google Maps it was a ten minute walk from the station to the Albert Hall. I got to the street and the road I was on went in both directions and the text instructions said walk north-east...I didn't know which way North-East was and Google Maps didn't show what direction I was facing, but logic tells me that if the time it takes on Google Maps increases, I need to turn around. Well Google Maps wasn't updating, by the time it did it said I was 17 minutes away. Ok. So I turned around. It wasn't updating again. I asked a Traffic Warden but he didn't know as he'd just moved to Manchester. I went along this road for ages and I couldn't find it. I think this successfully illustrates my infamous sense of direction. I could well have passed it and not realised.
It got to 15:30 and my train was leaving at 16:13 so I thought I'll head back now, even though I had forty minutes to spare, I wasn't confident I'd find it in time.
I got back to the train station with plenty of time to spare. As I entered the station somebody came over to ask me if I had booked special assistance. I hadn't, I'd neglected to book it for my return journey. He told me to wait for him at the platform and he would come and find me. He then arranged for somebody to meet me at Piccadilly and take me to my connecting train.
I love special assistance!
As I think is quite obvious from my posts on this blog, I am an idiot, and I quite frequently do idiotic things. Having special assistance means I have less opportunity to be an idiot, but when I do manage it, they are there.
I have told Daniel (brother) that he will need to pick me up from the train station though, I don't want to go all that way and then miss the show.
I was in a large business complex recently and the fire alarm went off. It stopped after about fifteen seconds. It's just a false alarm I thought, but then it started again about thirty seconds later. Fire alarms are bloody loud! I mean inconveniently so, I was there for some relaxation, but there was nothing relaxing about this noise! We went to the lift area where there are fire instructions so we assumed this was where we should gather. Another person from another of the many businesses that reside here, gathered here as well. We were puzzled as to what was going on, but I thought I should read the fire instructions to find out what I should do because I wasn't quite sure. First of all there was a floor plan of the building. The fire instructions said I should gather at assembly point 5 or 8, so I referred to the floor plan which seemed to indicate the fire exits are down the stairs!?!
I don't think I need to point out
to you that I find stairs quite tricky and not very wheelchair friendly
According to the fire instructions, I can't use the lifts either. It warns you in red letters.
Do not use lifts
Erm, hello!? Person in a wheelchair who would rather not stay in the burning building. Clearly it's too dangerous to spend five seconds in the completely safe lift, so we'll keep me stranded on the 1st floor. <--that was said with sarcasm
Fire instructions
I was left on my own while the able bodied folk wandered off to find somebody to help. I was left on my own for around ten minutes with the soundtrack of the blaring alarm, and then it suddenly stopped.
The able bodied search party returned, it had taken a while for them to find somebody. When they did it appeared to be a false alarm as this security guard confirmed there was a fault in a far away section of the building. I found this to be quite comforting, I would rather it be wrong and cause me some inconvenience. However, when asked how a wheelchair user vacates the building in the case of a fire, he sheepishly said "dunno".
There was no clear plan for the people who rely on a wheelchair to get around. The instructions simply say:assisst disabled persons to evacuate to a place of safety. What exactly does this mean? Some people can't get out of their wheelchair. I (for example) can get out of my chair and can support my own weight, but I can't move quickly. The brief instructions for the disabled folk is the same blatant disregard I have experienced time and time again. The majority are able bodied, so we'll attend to their needs.
You can get special chairs that can navigate stairs. The most practical and affordable is one like the one pictured. It is just a basic chair with two bars with grips on the front and the back, that can be carried by two people. These aren't very expensive, retailing for around £100-£150, but is this extra cost necessary? Below is a video from a building I regularly frequent and in the case of fire anywhere in the building this would be shut down. It is a disabled lift. It's purpose is for those unable to use stairs, to get to the first floor of the building. It operates for around five seconds. It's not going to be used by hoards of panicking people, scrambling to get out of the building, it would be considerably quicker to use the stairs. It's only purpose would be to allow the disabled to get out.
When I was about 16 I had a job as a cleaner, I was asked to make a cup of tea...and, um. I didn't know how. I'd never made it as I didn't drink it, which led me to a sudden desire to have a cup of *drum roll*, coffee...I thought coffee would be more grown up, and I wanted to be all growed up 'n' that. It tasted like Satan had relieved himself into my mug. I also burnt my mouth. I was probably not as cautious as I should have been as I'm used to drinks that don't cause me 3rd degree burns when consuming them, so I took to big a gulp.
Ever since I have been of the opinion that anybody who drinks hot drinks is a mentalist.
As a man in his 40s now, I thought I'd give it a go again. Not drinking tea/coffee was giving me FOMO as people always seem to be going for a coffee and a natter or it provides a topic of conversation that I can't join in on.
Starbucks
A friend of mine always goes to the Starbucks drive thru and recommended I try a medium caramel, de-caffenated (as she knows I'm a weakling that will likely spontaneously combust if I have caffeine) with coconut milk.
I saw this as an opportunity to review a few of the coffee shops around Stafford. By review I mean I would look at the few minor things that affected me. I decided I would try 3 of them; Starbucks, Cafe Nero and Coffee #1. I got onto my trustee steed (iM4.Elite from Easy Living Mobility)to try Starbucks first.
Well, it didn't start well. The door is manual, the door is heavy. I had to pull it towards me whilst moving backwards in my wheelchair, something that is a struggle, unless a kind person see's my struggle and comes to help me. The actual shop floor is slightly higher than the entrance, but there is an easy to navigate ramp. At least they've considered accessibillity when you get inside at least.
Next was ordering a coffee.
The counter was extremely high, if you were around five foot I'd imagine you'd be straining to see over. My sitting height is considerably under five foot, so I sat there unnoticed until another customer appeared that could be seen over the counter, and the server then noticed I was waiting. I gave my order - reading the order I'd been given word for word, hoping I wasn't being hazed.
"This might have been the
coffee equivalent of telling
an apprentice to go shopping
for tartan paint"
The payment point was out of my reach and was stuck down, so it couldn't be handed to me. I handed my card over and the server had to pay for me.
The verdict *shrugs shoulders* meh...It was ok I suppose. It didn't burn my face hole, which I always find encouraging, but it didn't taste particularly cofee-ee. Granted, I don't really know what it should taste like, but I am an absolute chocaholic and my favourite chocolate is Thorntons dark chocolate Coffee Cream. This didn't taste remotely like that. So I'm concluding it's not really coffee. Maybe it was because it was de-caffeineted. Or, maybe it was the coconut milk.
Tick the box
While I was here I used Starbucks' toilets. Actually just before I talk about that, I want to mention/moan about; I was at an Indian Restaurant reecently and they said they were wheelchair accessible.
They weren't.
There were several red flags to these claims, but they were issues that could be kind of justified. Some people feel wheelchair accessible is just a box that needs ticking. Convenience or comfort aren't considered, they are only interested in ticking the box. However, there was no disabled loo. This is more than a red flag. In my opinion this would mean the restaurant isn't wheelchair accessible, but they might argue that the lack of a toilet doesn't stop me accessing it, so... In other words, we've ticked the box, stop moaning.
I wish people would be honest about the restrictions rather than just saying "yes". They may have got my money on that occasion but I won't return.
Anyway Starbucks did have a disabled toilet. The door was left partially open so there was no door handle to navigate - not an issue for me but that may be a difficulty for others. The room was plenty big enough to put my wheelchair side on in front of the toilet, retract the arm and transfer on to the loo.
I have been in many disabled toilets that are barely wide enough to fit the wheelchair in at all, let alone put it side on and retract the arm.
I left Starbucks with the intention of heading for Cafe Nero but I got side tracked as I neared Masovia Craft Bakery. I remembered seeing a post on The Staffordshire Spotter promoting the bakery and the pictures looked amazing, I just had to try out the cakes. Oh and they served coffee. I mustn't forget the coffee, that is the purpose of this reconnaissance mission. I headed in to order a piece of Black Forest gateau. Oh and I tried a cappuccino aswell.
*Note to self: must not forget I'm here for coffee*
What arrived... Holy Shirt Balls! A slab of cake almost as big as the plate it was on arrived. It was as tall as the accompanying cappuccino. How was the accompanying cappucino I hear you ask?
meh...It was ok I suppose.
But the cake! I remember Black Forest gateau when I was a kid and nothing comes close to my memory. It had real cherry's and thick cream on top. the chocolate sponge, unmistakenly, tasted of chocolate. This cake meant that I didn't have to rely on my memories of this long lost gem.
I wasn't understanding this obsession with coffee though. Cappucino at least tasted more like coffee than the one I ordered in Starbucks and I hadn't burned my face hole again. Maybe this achievement answers the question "am I grown up?"
Yes, yes I am..
The doors into the bakery were open, so I didn't have a similar issue getting in, but I did notice that the doors open outward and were similar to the glass door at Starbucks. The bakery itself is quite large, but there isn't much floorspace. A lot of the space is taken by the counter and displays of cakes, breads, doughnuts etc. To the right of the counter there are a series of tables stretching the length of the shop, each with 3 chairs surrounding them. I didn't see any toilets, I suspect they were at the top of the shop where the walkway narrowed and I'm not sure the wheelchair could fit.
Next up was Cafe Nero. Guess what? I was presented with a heavy glass door that opens outwards. Guess what else? I struggled to open it and relied on the shop assistant to help me out. I ordered a cappucino again but this time with a sprinkling of Cinnamon. The paying point was out of my reach again, but it could be detached from its holder and handed down to me. How was the cappucino I hear you ask?
meh...It was ok I suppose.
The cinnamon gave it a nice taste at first but it still didn't make the cappucino a favourite of mine.
The final stop would be Coffee Number 1. I came across Coffee Number 1 when I went to hear Charlotte Faulconbridge on her book tour for her book 'Too High To Function". It's about dealing with visible and hidden disabilities, which she speaks about with a lifetime of experience in one form another.
The coffee shop always stuck in my mind because it reminded me of Central Perk in Friends. There were tables and chairs but there was also a couch and arm chairs and acres of space. There was lots of floor space and masses of room between tables, so I presumed there was a decent level of privacy from prying ears.
Coffe Number 1 isn't part of a chain, it's an independent coffee shop. Unfortunately it too had the industry standard anti wheelchair doors. But once inside there is acres of room, it's very quiet, the atmosphere is very serene, it gives off pleasent vibes straight away. There is music playing, but it's background music, allowing you to have quiet conversations. There are a great selection of cakes, the payment point is low enough for me to use and I wasn't kept waiting until I was spotted. I ordered a piece of caramel shortbread to accompany my cappucino. I'm still not convinced by cappucino, but then I'm not convinced by coffee at all, the promise of cakes is what will keep me coming. It was probably my favourite cappucino so far, there was quiite a lot of froth on the top which suits me fine, it doesn't taste of coffee.
Out of the four coffee shops I think this is my favourite. Once I'd navigated the doors, I enjoyed every aspect of it. Mainly the large amount of floor space and the fact the tables were quite far apart.
I came back a few days later with a friend. No more FOMO for me! This boy is all grown up. Granted I had hot chocolate instead of coffee and the lemon drizzle cake might have made it more appealing, but swings and roundabouts.
