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.
