1.
Introduction
June, and life was a predictable reality. I was studying at
university, it wasn’t a very exciting university in an even less exciting town.
Frankly, my life was predictable and going nowhere. I awoke one day and decided
my life needed a new direction and that direction was travel.
My global travel adventure, unable to walk0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000This
corner I was about to turn was made slightly more difficult for me than it
would be for many others. I had (and still have) a degenerative disease of the
nervous system, known as Friedreich’s Ataxia. Diagnosed at the age of ‘‘My Mad
Life’ begun. Friedreich’s Ataxia would cause increasing problem0s with
everything from co-ordination, strength and control of my arms & legs
leading to problems with balance and speech deterioration. The biggest problem
was the increasingly more d000ifficult transfer to or from my wheelchair to a
bed or toilet. But it didn’t bother me, partly because of my intention to live
for the present, I decided to turn that corner and begin Globe Wheeling.
The Unite0d States was the land which I had always dreamed
of, so the US had to be my initial country to ‘conquer’, the first in a long
globetrotting adventure, world-wide. California was the place where my dreams
stemmed. I am starting in Seattle in the north where I bought an Amtrak rail
pass and headed down from Seatle through Oregon, then down to California.
Introduction
June, and life was a predictable reality. I was studying at
university, it wasn’t a very exciting university in an even less exciting town.
Frankly, my life was predictable and going nowhere. I awoke one day and decided
my life needed a new direction and that direction was travel.
This corner I was about to turn was made slightly more
difficult for me than it would be for many others. I had (and still have) a
degenerative disease of the nervous system, known as Friedreich’s Ataxia.
Diagnosed at the age of 10, my walking got increasingly more difficult until
the age of 19 when I went into a wheelchair, one year before ‘My Mad Life’
begun. Friedreich’s Ataxia would cause increasing problem0s with everything
from co-ordination, strength and control of my arms & legs leadin00g to
problems with balance and speech deterioration. The biggest problem was the
increasingly more difficult transfer to or from my wheelchair to a bed or
toilet. But it didn’t bother me, partly because of my intention to live for the
present, I decided to turn that corner and begin Globe Wheeling.
The United States was the land which I had always dreamed
of, so the US had to be my initial country to ‘conquer’, the first in a long
globetrotting adventure, world-wide. California was the place where my dreams
stemmed. I am starting in Seattle in the north where I bought an Amtrak rail
pass and headed down from Seatle through Oregon, then down to California.
June 29th ; the day which changed my life, forever. The day
I left England, travelling in my wheelchair, alone, aged 20. The beginning of a
global adventure.
My entire philosophy is to give life 100%, the maximum – My
life’0s motto became ‘Love to live life, Live to love life’
Globe wheeling– is a true glimpse at where I’ve been and
what I’ve done. Everything is the truth, nothing made up and nothing
exaggerated. Details have been omitted as they seem immaterial or boring. I may
have forgotten trivial events. Some sections are very detailed others less so.
Different sections have been rewritten from detailed notes or simply written
from memory, but mostly written as events happen, much as a diary would be
written. Many activities and events seem amazing but that’s been My Life ../……….
Madness !
.
2.The US, yes or no
Monday morning, 11 o’clock, I crawl from under my cosy
thermal blanket with no particular idea of what I would do that morning, or the
rest of the day, or the rest of the week, or the rest of the month, in fact,
what I would do with the rest of my life.
Is this really my life ?, my boring life, Yes – admittedly
it was. So there and then I decided to follow my lifelong dream, which was, in
one word – ‘America’
America, a huge country, masses of people, masses of places,
masses of cultures, masses of everything !. Where would I go, what would I do
?. The dream was sprouting roots, the excitement was building !.
New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, Washington, San Francisco,
Dallas, Miami, Boston – A job for the pin ?, No chance. I needed to consider
this carefully as this would be my first ever overseas adventure. I had high
expectations of America and the only way these would be upheld would be to
decide what I wanted to do, where I wanted to go and more importantly, what I
wanted to experience.
The west coast ; Seattle, San Francisco, Los Angeles, San
Diego, Las Vegas and the Grand Canyon had always held an unexplained
fascination for me. California could have been the reason for this ; the sun,
the scenery and the Californian beach babes !. The initial concept was
conceived.
The first practical step was to get there; I started making
calls to travel agents. My first call revealed my first problem ………..
“Seattle, this week, No chance”
Call number two ………
“A flight to Seattle, before Monday, no way”
Call number three ……….
“This week, Seattle, Forget it”
This was the story I got from all 6 travel agents.
At that point, many people would have given up their search
for an immediate flight, but not me. I had a family member who was in the
business, so if there was a flight he might know where it was.
“There is a flight to Seattle ….”
That was my plane, the only flight available was mine.
“….. in 3 weeks time”
That was it. No flight, no holiday, no dream-chasing.
I wasn’t about to let my destiny slip from my grasp, I
wouldn’t give up, I was in pursuit of my dreams. There were still thirty travel
agents in the telephone book and any of them may have a flight. Unlikely, but
still quite possible. I’d tried all the larger adverts in the phone book so I
then tried the smaller ones – which I presumed were for smaller companies with
fewer flights to offer me.
“Good morning, I’m Mandy, Can I help you ?.”
I gave my well practiced speech, about where I wanted to go
and when I wanted to fly.
“There is one seat on a plane via Houston, Texas leaving on
Saturday”
The delight, the elation. the ecstasy ; my dream was going
to happen. It was going to happen in four days time !.
With only three days to go and nothing sorted out apart from
the flight, I needed to get organized. The first thing which I needed to get
sorted out was that all important commodity – money. Thankfully, foreign
currency is not hard to find but how much would I need ?. I changed some into
cash, some into traveler’s cheques and also put a credit balance into my VISA
card account. Insurance was my next problem because, for an unknown reason, I needed
to give two days notice for approval. That meant I wouldn’t know if I would be
insured until Friday, one day before I was due to fly.
For most people, packing is a worry but for me the problem
ran far deeper. I got everything I might need, laid it all on the bed, put
everything inside a backpack, loaded it onto the back of my wheelchair – The
wheelchair did a back flip. If you can imagine a tortoise on its back with legs
in the air, that was the situation !.
Plan B was needed. Forget the idea of a backpack, instead I
put my entire luggage in a large hold all type bag and turned that bag into my
trailer. A one-man train !.
Friday came and the last hurdle was in sight. Had I got the
all important insurance ?. Yes, so I collected my tickets and insurance documents
and I was set. With that final hurdle cleared, the finish line was in sight, or
was it the starting line ?.
I left on Saturday morning for the United States with no
idea where I was going to go, where I would stay or what I would do for the
next few months. However, that was part of the excitement, part of the dream
3. Disability or Ability
I was born with Friedreich’s ataxia, a degenerative disease
of the nervous system.
I was first diagnosed with the disease at age 8, my walking
got progressively worse through-out my school years. At the age of 19 I was
unable continue walking. I began using a wheelchair, on a full time basis, as I
began university. At the age of 21, I decided to travel the world.
Initial symptoms include curvature of the spine (scoliosis),
slurred speech and walking becomes awkward and unsteady. Problems with
co-ordination, control and balance become an ever-increasing problem. As the
condition progresses a wheelchair is required for mobility. Arm and hand
movement also become uncoordinated and uncontrolled. Which remain problematic
when a wheelchair is required.
4. The responsible thing
With university completed and my qualification gained I was
ready to do the responsible thing, get a job, get married, get a house, have
kids – NOT ME, NOT THEN
I wanted something different, something exciting, something
more, and that something was travelling.
5. My American Dream is Realized
Western United States (Visiting Canada & Mexico)
June 29th : the first day of travel and the first of many
early starts. 3:30am and I’m off down to Gatwick Airport, London, to catch my
10 hour flight to Houston, America – My first ever time out of the UK and my
first ever flight. In Houston I changed planes and flew up to Seattle, that was
my first real glimpse of America, it was a beautiful day and the views over the
Rocky Mountains were magnificent. I arrived in Seattle at 4:30pm, 12:30am the
following day in England. I found a cheap motel near the Airport and relaxed
with my thoughts of my first ‘out-of-England experience’.
I awoke with a refreshing sense for adventure. Breakfast at
‘Denny’s’ was my first taste of real American food, with huge portions and
refillable drinks, free refills, a concept unknown to the British. My second
experience was tipping, a concept virtually compulsory in America and the tax
applied after ordering left me utterly bewildered. I then checked-out of the
hotel and decided to head into Seattle in a search for cheap accommodation in
the form of a hostel.
I was told that wheelchairs could use buses, ‘how’ ?. I had
no idea as it wasn’t possible in England. I approached the front door and
shouted up to the driver “I need to get into Seattle”, I expected him to get
off and lift me on, but no, he asked me to “move back”. I assumed that his
reaction meant ‘go away’ but then a large mechanical platform slid out from
under the bus. I steered onto the platform and the platform rose about 4 foot
allowing me to wheel straight into the bus through the front door. A couple of
seats were collapsed where the wheelchair was tied down for a secure ride. The
entire process was safe, simple, effective and very easy.
We finally got into the centre of Seattle, where the bus
lift system delivered me back to street level in the reverse manner to how it
had lifted me. Unfortunately the idea of me towing my bag proved virtually
impossible, thankfully, an Australian guy who I’d met on the bus was going to
the same place as me, helped me the half mile. Seattle being built on
previously erupted volcanic lava remains makes it very hilly, to the point of
some hills being a stepped pedestrian walkway. Unfortunately this was the case
for the hill leading down to the where I wanted to be but I could also reach my
final destination from the bottom of the steep hill. So we took a long
diversion to avoid the steps and wheeled up the steep hill.
My final destination was a hostel, previously unknown and
undiscovered to me. A hostel is a cheap form of accommodation used by young budget
travelers. Hostels are similar to hotels in that they have a reception and
multiple bedrooms but you do not get a private bedroom or bathroom. Between 4
and 12 people sleep on bunk beds in each room, without conveniences such as a
TV or fridge and maybe no other furniture. The room may or may not have a
private bathroom so you could be sharing with only your room mates or there
could be a larger bathroom to be shared by all guests. Seattle was my first
hostel experience of many through-out America, Europe and Australia. In fact
only on rare occasions would I ‘splash out’ on a hotel.
It took me 2 days to settle into the travelling life-style.
My 3rd day ‘out-of-England’ was about seeing Seattle and doing the tourist
‘thing’. I rode the buses many times, cris-crossing Seattle. Rode the monorail,
went up the famous Seattle space needle and tried a, supposedly ‘heart
stopping’ fun fair ride. Due to the severity of Seattle’s hills wearing gloves
to protect my hands from friction burns was imperative, the amount of rubber
left behind after slides was enormous !.
I wasn’t sure of which form of long-distance ground
transportation to use, buses, trains, car, minibus, etc. I decided to
investigate buying a car to travel between cities. I got a bus to an out of town
car dealer, I explained what I wanted and my budget, and he had only one car at
a reasonable price – a 15 year old Cadillac. I decided to go to lunch and
consider it, I went into a shop where they sold ‘sandwiches’, I decided upon a
club sandwich, which was made for me and given to me in a carrier bag. In
England a ‘sandwich’ is 2 pieces of bread with a single slice of meat or cheese
with a lettuce leaf and a slice of tomato. In America, where everything is
bigger, a sandwich is a foot long bread roll with half an inch of meat and half
an inch of cheese, numerous sauces, piles of salad of every description and
dressings. It is then impossible to eat, with any dignity but for anyone on a
budget and not an over-sized American appetite, there was enough for 2 good
meals.
Cadillac’s are big cars, huge cars, with equally huge
engines and it was 15 years old, all 3 factors worried me. Could I drive
such a huge car in a strange country with vast mileages to cover ?. The engine
was very big therefore unnecessarily fast and very ‘thirsty’ on fuel. Being 15
years old it would probably not have been too reliable. So I passed-up on
the car.
On the bus back to the hostel, it occurred to me that I
could buy a van, travel in the van by day and sleep in it at night, hence
saving money on accommodation and therefore giving me more money for an initial
outlay. Another guest at the hostel was selling one after travelling from the
south to the north of the west coast. I checked it out and it was fine, he even
offered me the mattress from the back to sleep on. But there was 2 problems,
number one because of the vast distances which needed to be covered (Even in
England I did not like driving for 2 hours at a 9time, in America I could be
talking 10 hours at a time). Problem number two was the wheelchair, travelling
alone how would I get into the relatively high driving seat of a van and how
would I get myself and my wheelchair into and out off the back where I would
sleep, So I passed-up on the van and the idea of buying any vehicle.
One thing America is particularly famous for is it’s
‘mall’s’, in England, a shopping centre. The largest ‘mall’ on America’s west
coast, I was told is near to Seattle. I got on the bus and 30 miles later, we
arrived at the mall. 30 miles is not near !. In England, 30 miles is a long way
to go for, what is, after all, only a group of shops. But at least, it was a
free ‘day-out’ because I got free bus rides, on the entirely wheelchair
accessible bus fleet.
All around Seattle they were advertising ‘The American War
Veterans Games’, which were a smaller version of the Wheelchair Olympics. It
was the first time I’d seen people in wheelchairs playing basketball, tennis,
rugby – I was amazed.
I then came across a theatre performing ‘Cats’, assuming
this was the Broadway version, I paid for a budget position seat ticket then
was lead to wheelchair accessible seating area which was in a prime viewing
location. I don’t know whether or not it was a Broadway travelling production,
but I was very pleased when it ended. I was bored to tears. Outside it had
started to pour with rain but I didn’t want to hang around or pay for a taxi so
despite the problem of wheeling on the very wet and hilly ground of Seattle, I
did. The 10 blocks could have been walked in 15 minutes but it took me an hour
and a half, on the slippery hills.
July the 4th – Independence day, a big day of celebration in
America. The hostel was having an all-you-can-eat barbecue outside the hostel
and I definitely ate all I could. Me and a couple of Australian guys decide to
round off the meal with a couple of beers at a near-by bar, this was not a
particularly good idea because a full stomach and beer do not suit me, so my
half digested barbecue ended up on the floor of the bar !.
Back at the hostel, with nothing to do, I began talking to a
very attractive girl. We talked for hours, I hoped there might be something
there, something more than just friends !, there wasn’t. My only consolation
was that we then went to see the 4th of July fireworks together, with America
trying to do everything bigger, the display was amazing with a constantly lit
up night sky.
For a second day I went to watch the Veteran’s Games and for
a second day was equally amazed. On my way back to the hostel, I stopped at the
supposedly famous and supposedly wonderful fish market – I was very ‘un’amazed
at what was less interesting than my home town market.
Back at the hostel I settled back with my bag of ‘chips’
(crisps in England) in front of the communal TV. I flicked through all the channels,
in England we got 4 or 12 on Satellite, here 55 channels, in America where
bigger is supposedly better, but there was just 55 channels of crap !.
Due to the severe tyre rubber loss from skidding on
Seattle’s hills my wheelchair tyres were becoming thread-bare. It should have
been simple to find and replace wheelchair tyres in wheelchair friendly
America. After phoning every bike shop in Seattle, I discovered that the people
from the Veteran’s Games had bought every wheelchair sized tyre in town – big
problem !.
The following day, after a filling and very cheap
all-you-can-eat (America’s favourite past-time) pizza and drink buffet, I went
to the Veteran’s Games, once again. They were behind my problem and therefore
were in a position to resolve it. After watching the virtual impossible
wheelchair assault course event, I made it known to the appropriate people that
I had a big problem because of their, supposed, ‘need’ to buy every wheelchair
tyre in Seattle. Although they were reluctant, they gave me (for free) and
fitted a new pair of my required tyres.
Having decided not to buy my own vehicle, I decided to
check-out the possibility of using trains for long-distance ground
transportation. I took one of the trams up the hill to the train station,
there were a variety of tickets or passes with numerous
discounts, I took all the information to consider on what appeared quite a good
means of transport. Later that day, I decided to go and sample the beer in a
local bar but America has a drinking age restriction of 21. Like most underage
people, I had fake ID but the ‘numskull’s’ wouldn’t accept it !.
I had been in Seattle for 10 days and decided the following
day I should leave. I purchased an Amtrak (The American train company) 30 day
west coast rail pass which would give me unlimited train trips up or down the
west coast. I got my first ticket leaving the following day at 9:30am, going to
Eugene in Oregon. I bought some much needed new gloves & a new back-pack
and packed ready to leave the next morning.
I woke at 8am to catch the 9:30 train, it left Seattle on
time but, as always, it arrived late into Eugene. At 5pm I had missed the last
bus to the hostel, the hostel in fact was not in Eugene but in the surrounds.
This meant I had to take a long taxi ride to the hostel, which was very
expensive. The hostel was my idea of ‘hell in a forest’. The small community in
an isolated forest was run by a group of self-sufficient, gypsy, veggie, hippy
types. Due to the fact there was no shops or restaurants, I was forced to eat
their expensive home grown meal – berry juice, doll, chutney, rice, etc. The
worst thing was that the telephone wouldn’t accept coins, so I was – stuck in
hell !.
With nothing to do, I spent the morning in bed, I ate home
grown French toast and honey – somehow, not made with milk or eggs ! – but
surprisingly it tasted very good. That afternoon I went to look to the
fresh-water creek, although only half a mile, in my wheelchair, became a
marathon off-road trek !. Happily on my return to the hostel, met an American
family on vacation, who offered to share their dinner so I wasn’t forced to eat
more gypsy, veggie slop !. Being far too early for bed, I went in search of entertainment.
I found a hippy type music and dance concert which, I must admit, was quite
good.
I needed to leave the ‘hippy commune’ so got a lift to the
local village with the head gypsy and caught a bus back to Eugene in the hope
of getting a seat on the southbound train. Thankfully the train was empty, so I
got a ticket down to Sacramento in California. Sacramento would be my first
stop in California, the State on which my American dream was based. It was the
first of many over-night train journeys but with 2 seats I slept in a
right-angle fashion, for 2 whole hours !.
My first impression of California was in the cold early
morning. The train arrived at 6:30am and it took me an hour to find the hostel,
a beautifully restored 18th century mansion, in my half-awaken state. I then
had to wait another 45 minutes before the hostel opened and I could shower in
the huge wheelchair accessible shower. I then spent the day exploring the city
and gaining my first impressions of my life-long dream location, California –
it lived-up to my dreams expectations and in many ways, far exceeded them.
After drinking 2 pints of beer at the free outdoor concert, I returned to the
hostel and slept soundly at 8pm.
Not wanting to waste my ‘Californian Dreams’, I decided to
purchase a new camera to record the sights. A 15 block trek began to find the
second-hand camera shop, was embarked upon. Going round in circles, up and
down, back and forth and eventually with police advice, I found it. I purchased
an Olympus zoom camera which due to its size, I assumed that originally it
would have been expensive and advanced. Since then I have discovered that it
was large because it is very old and neither good nor advanced !.
It was a very hot day so after having 4 large cokes (taking
full advantage of the free refill policy), I decided to escape the heat and
check-out an air conditioned ‘Virtual World’ computer game arcade. I spent 3
hours out of the midday heat in air conditioned comfort. Returning to the
hostel I had my first of many ‘falling-out-of-wheelchair’ incidence’s – down a
busy 4 lane one-way road, I ‘capsized’, as cars whizzed by on either side until
eventually some good citizen came to my rescue !.
All around town were references to Old Sacramento, so I took
a trip to this famed area of town. It was modelled as an old wild west town but
with modern chain shops and restaurants in restored wooden buildings. A
particular observation in the fast-food restaurants was the signs saying ‘No
loitering – 10 minutes eating time’ which meant I couldn’t finish my meal
without eating like a pig ! – Seriously, the policy was to dissuade the many
tramps and beggars in Sacramento, in fact a nationwide policy to dissuade the
many tramps and beggars everywhere in America.
At 5am, Sacramento looked decidedly eerie but with a 7am
train booked to San Francisco the day ahead looked rosy. A 2 hour train journey
to Oakland then a bus ride to San Francisco. The chartered bus for the journey
to San Francisco had no wheelchair lift, so Amtrak paid for a private taxi to
take me from Oakland to San Francisco. Once in San Francisco I needed to find
somewhere to stay. I had heard of a hostel overlooking the Golden Gate bridge,
although it was often full, I hoped they would have a bed at 10am. However it
took me 3 hours to find the hostel, which was located in a beautiful park which
overlooked the Golden Gate bridge, but at 1pm would they have a bed ?. Yes,
they did but it was the last one and in a 22 bed dormitory.
For the first day in my American Adventure it was a cloudy
and not particularly warm. I did the ‘touristy’ thing and went along the
promenade, looking along all the piers and the harbour area. I also tried
unsuccessfully to ride the famous San Francisco trams up and down the inclines.
After queuing for almost an hour, was told there was no wheelchair
accessibility on the trams. I got the supervisor from across town and had a
huge argument about the wheelchair inaccessibility and the illegality under
American law.
On a detour from the sea front into downtown San Francisco I
got a glimpse at some of the inclines but later found these to be mere mole
hills in a city of Everest’s !,
A new day, to feel a new way. Well, by the end of the day I
would feel exhausted and have severely aching arms. I took the bus to the
opposite end of the tram run, the bus circumnavigate around the base of the
major San Francisco climbs so I had no real conception of the Everest directly
between me and the Hostel. The first block was a hill, the second a steep hill,
the third a mountain, the fourth had to be the mountain’s peak – but no, on it
went, each block steeper and steeper and steeper, it was taking 30 minutes
climb for each block. Many people offered to help push me up the ridiculously
steep hills but each time I refused, expressing that it was a personal goal and
I needed to prove to myself that I could do it – and I did !.
But 10 blocks of ridiculous incline skyward meant 10 blocks
of ridiculous decline back to ground level and home-base. The easy part if
walking, but if in a wheelchair a death run !. As I whizzed past moving
bicycles and cars, I realised my gloved hands wouldn’t grip the my speeding
wheels. Crossing several cross junctions while praying for a reprieve in cross
traffic. At other junctions I left 30 foot rubber skid marks behind as I slid
to a halt. This was my experience of San Francisco – exhausted and lucky to be
alive I returned to the hostel !.
Back at the hostel I had a nice surprise waiting – A very
attractive Australian girl was to share my bed !. Unfortunately, 4 foot above
me – in the top bunk bed !.
With my San Franciscan experience being cloudy, cold,
exhausting and far too death-defying at 11am the following morning I decided to
continue my southbound travels. With the freedom of solo travel, I was on my
way within 30 minutes. I didn’t want to miss the picturesque California coast
road so I found the bus that would take me south down highway 101, past the
Golden Gate bridge. I was heading to a place called Montara, about 3 hours
south of San Francisco. Montara is in an idyllic location which over-looks the
Pacific Ocean on a rocky out-crop, the hostel which was a renovated lighthouse
was equally magnificent.
Montara is, in fact, only an area of coast line, there is no
town, no shops, no beach, no people it’s just in an idyllic location.
‘Traveller protocol’ says : if there’s nothing, keep going. So at 6:30am the
following day I’m outside, waiting for the first bus. I arrived in Half Moon
Bay at 7:30am to catch the connecting bus to Santa Cruz. 8am, 8:30am and still
no connection. My enquiries revealed I had missed the bus, probably by about 30
seconds, the next one was at 3:30pm – in 7 hours time.
Half Moon Bay is a town, no, small town, no, small village
with 2 shops and in a less than idyllic setting so the prospect of a 7 hour
wait was mind-numbing. A thought sprung to mind – Half Moon Bay is a major
intersection for 2 highways so it gets plenty of traffic. My question to myself
was “Am I a man or a mouse ?”, A male budget traveller without 7 hours to wait,
my answer. I found the southbound highway and sat there in my bag laden
wheelchair thumbing for a lift !.
20 minutes is all it took, A van pulled in, 2 German guys
jumped out, helped me into the front and ‘threw’ the wheelchair in the back –
Quick, easy and, best of all, free !.
Santa Cruz is a typical beach resort, it has lots of
‘touristy’ things to do, but it’s got ‘California style’. It’s got a good beach
with wheelchair access (plastic mats down to the water’s edge) and
‘wall-to-wall’ bikini clad babes. After my ‘Californian style’ experience of
the beach and boardwalk, I found the small and homely hostel. After dinner I
went to a ‘big named’ local concert on the beach – Jefferson Starbuck !.
With 3 weeks of my travelling dreams behind me and my ‘Californian
experience’ in full swing. I went down to an expensive beach front restaurant
and ‘splashed-out’ on a smoked salmon Omelette which broke all ‘budget
backpacker protocol’ rules but, hey, I was happy. I then spent the day lying on
the beach in the sunshine among the bikini clad babes – ‘Baywatch is not a
fantasy – Bikini clad babes are a reality in California !’.
By 4pm I was very sun burnt, but stupidly, decided to go out
drinking in my new bright red skin tone. I went with 2 lovely Spanish girls to
a local bar, drank 2 pints of beer, saw a live band before returning to the
hostel and seeing the contents of my stomach reappear all over the bedroom
floor !.
The following morning, after removing last night’s half
digested food from the floor, I went to have breakfast with a travel writer. He
was the first of many people who believed that my travels were worthy of
scripture.
To escape the heat, I ducked into a movie theatre to watch
the recently released blockbuster, Independence day. The audience reaction, I
decided, was far greater than the English cinema audience reaction because the
entire story is based upon American patriotism.
The hostel had got 3 new guests, female guests, very
attractive female guests – the ‘travelling way’ is to drink, heavily. And drink
we did. The ridiculous 10pm curfew (lock out) at the hostel wasn’t appreciated
but in attractive female company the windows of neighbouring rooms could be
rattled thus waking someone to open the front door. We got back to the hostel
at midnight, we rattled the neighbouring bedroom’s window and 4 very drunken
travellers were let in.
Time is precious so I decided to move on again. I took the
early bus to San Jose where I picked up the train again, down to Santa Barbara.
All the way down the coast I had been hearing tales of the chain of hostels
called Banana Bungalow, there was 4, three in California and one in New York.
Banana Bungalow is the place to be, where anything goes – the guys are hunks
and the girls are babes !. I had not stayed in this style of hostel before, I
had stayed in institution style clinical hostels where alcohol is banned. In
Banana Bungalow alcohol is mandatory and parties are the lifestyle – ‘If you go
to bed sober, there must be a problem’. I arrived at 8pm and it is an old
aircraft hanger full of bunk beds for people to sleep on but without segregated
bedrooms.
I woke at 9am, the crack of dawn for most Banana Bungalow
party guests. I spent the day checking out Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz had just
been an introduction into ‘California style’, Santa Barbara oozed it. The
cosmopolitan atmosphere created by the shops, beach, ocean, climate and the
friendly people combined to make me feel as if Santa Barbara was where I wanted
to live.
I tried parasailing which was very relaxing but I had
expected thrills or a bit of excitement but unfortunately, only slow and
gentle. I saw many stretch limousines presumably of the rich and famous who
presumably choose to make Santa Barbara their home. I got into a conversation
in the street with two guys who owned a wheelchair shop, they offered to lend
me a hand cycle so I could get around to see more of Santa Barbara. The real
bonus was that they had new tyres and gloves that I desperately needed, after
my tyre rubber loss incurred on San Francisco’s hills !.
For the second day, I went to the wheelchair shop to look at
ex-demo sports wheelchairs. They were nice, very nice and at half the cost of a
sports wheelchair in the UK – I would return here in a couple of years when I
would need a new wheelchair.
As prearranged, I met the 3 very attractive girls from Santa
Cruz, and as in Santa Cruz we went out drinking but this time on a bar crawl.
The number and choice of bars was amazing, we went in one with 85 beers on tap,
one was a gay bar, one was an English style pub but my fake ID was terrible so
my entry to one bar was refused.
I decided, I must keep moving, so I tried to book a train
down to San Clemente leaving the following day. I was told there was no
wheelchair access off the train in San Clemente – this turned out to be the
best decision anyone ever made for me, as the next day turned out to be the
best day of my life.
At 10am I went down to the beach with the 3 attractive girls
who I met in Santa Cruz, each one clad in tiny bikinis which showed there
stunning figures. ‘Heavenly bodies in a heavenly location’. We talked till 3pm
when I asked the most attractive girl out for dinner, my intention was for a
date, but she invited her friends along. Not a date but dinner with friends,
never-the-less, sounded good.
Dinner with 3 beautiful women ; a mouth-watering prospect or
a disaster waiting to happen. We went to eat at a local bar – all 4 of us. The
conversations just died and I even failed to impress her with talk of my new
toy, my Jaguar. The disaster was initialized at 10pm, happy hour. 2 for 1 vodka
and orange were my downfall, I drank my cocktails at the same rate as they
drank beer – a disaster waiting-to-happen. By midnight I was ‘chucking my guts’
in the middle of the crowded bar. The girls took me home and put me to bed, my
bed – not the desired outcome !.
The following morning I awoke with a ‘killer’ hangover. My 3
new friends left for Hawaii so I went back to bed. That afternoon someone
working at the hostel at the hostel told me about 2 second hand wheelchairs in
a second-hand shop, I assumed that they would be old folding type wheelchairs
but I went to look anyway. To my utter amazement they were sports wheelchairs.
They were the identical model to the ex-demo wheelchairs I had looked at the
previous day. At a tenth of the price of a new one or a fifth of the price of
the ex-demo ones, I made them an offer for the pair, they accepted – I then had
2 extra wheelchairs to take home, sell and profit from.
The following day, I went down to the wheelchair shop to see
if they wanted to buy my newly acquired second-hand wheelchairs. The people at
the wheelchair shop knew that the wheelchairs were there and very cheap but
they hadn’t bought them because they had the serial numbers scratched off meaning
that they were probably stolen.
A sign reading ‘Banana Bungalow Keg Party’ ‘$5 all you can
drink’, ‘why not’ I thought despite still being hung over from the night
before. This being the first of many such keg parties in locations through-out
America. A keg – A steel barrel of beer is fitted with a tap, then whenever you
want more beer, which tends to be quite often, you go and refill you glass.
Everyone parties in a very drunken state until everyone collapses into bed !.
The following morning, I woke with the worst hangover of my
life. Undeterred, I rose to find I had a severe lack of energy, so back
to bed it was. I awoke again at 10:30 and decided not to waste my holiday and
by noon I started to make my phone calls to Amtrak, the American train network.
I wanted a ticket for San Louis Obispo (Just south of LA) but all the
southbound trains were full. Although I wanted to continue on my ‘travelling
way’ in a southerly direction, an idea came to mind – Bungee Jumping. I had
previously seen a leaflet for a bungy jump site in Canada. I could get a train
back to Seattle then a ferry to Canada. The northbound train had seats and
there would be no cost for the train ticket. So I quickly packed my bag, and
nursing my hangover, I left for the station arriving with 2 minutes to spare. I
boarded the train, took my seat. Only then did it dawn on me that I would be in
that seat for 34 hours.
34 hours passed. People left the train, people boarded the
train, I ate, I drank, I even slept. Then more people left, more people
boarded. I ate more, I drank more and eventually the train pulled into Seattle.
The train arrived at 21:34, ten minutes before I’d of exploded through boredom.
I was going to stay in the hostel in Seattle again, where I had stayed 3 weeks
previously, so I knew exactly where I was going. As I reached the steep hill
outside the hostel, I asked a Mexican bloke for a shove up the hill. This was a
big mistake because he was very drunk and started talking about boxing – so I
asked someone else.
Saturday morning came far too soon. I left the hostel at 7am
and discovered it was pouring which had turned the hill into a slope of Death.
If I had problems getting up the hill, getting down would be death defying. To
walk down it would be fine but to do it trying to use wet hand rims on
wheelchair wheels would be virtually impossible, however the ferry was going to
leave in 30 minutes so it was a case of ‘now or never’. As I hit 20 mph I tried
my braking process. Nothing. The only way to stop was to jam my bag into the
wheel !. It worked after 3 near collisions !.
I boarded the ferry to Canada with 3 minutes to spare.
During my journey I took a good look around the ferry where I changed some US
Dollars into Canadian Dollars and decided that I couldn’t afford anything in
any of the 3 on-board restaurants. As the ferry docked in Canada, we were told
of the exceptionally strong undercurrents which made the trip very hazardous.
‘Thanks for the warning, but 6 hours too late’ I thought.
As per normal, I headed the wrong way down the road outside
the ferry port. With no bus stop in sight, I turned round and headed back
uphill to the bus stop, 100 yards from the ferry port. To my delight, I
discovered that Canadian buses also had wheelchair access and the driver knew
where I needed to get off. When I got off the bus, I sped down the hill hoping
that the hostel was at the bottom. Thankfully it was.
That afternoon I explored Victoria, the shops, the market,
the government buildings and the quay. As I was returning to the hostel, I saw
a poster for a band which was appearing in a local bar that evening. So after
finding something to eat at the hostel, I returned to the bar where the band
was playing. My intention was to stay for a couple of songs then leave but they
were a great band and although the crowd only just reached double figures, I
stayed ‘till the end.
The following morning I woke to the prospect of hurling
myself off a bridge that was higher than Dover’s, white cliffs. As the shuttle
bus pulled up, the driver jumped out and shouted,
“Right, who’s jumping today ?.”
To her surprise, I was her answer; me and my wheelchair.
Two hours later we arrived in Nanaimo. As we drove into the
bungy site, I caught my first sight of the bridge and valley. The high bridge
and deep valley !. My first stop was the cabin where I was weighed and briefed
on the jump, before I made my way towards the bridge. It only then struck me
how magnificent the site was, the scenic bridge straddled the lush pine tree
covered walls of the valley with clear blue water running through the valley.
My final problem was still to be encountered – four flights
of stairs. Stairs and a wheelchair don’t mix, so climbing a stair at a time on
my butt was the only option. After thirty minutes climbing time and a sore rear
end, I reached the summit, the bungy platform.
From the platform, I looked down with only one intention; to
descend much quicker than my ascent. I was up there being attached to the
harness and being watched by a group who dare not jump themselves but appeared
to get pleasure from watching other terrified jumpers.
I launched myself on the count of three. My only comforting
thought was that I was attached to the bridge therefore it should be safe.
Plummeting down the valley was exciting, invigorating, exhilarating,
stimulating but most of all it felt like life should !.
When the bouncing had ended and I had done my impression of
Spider man, I dangled from the cord much like a spider would. I then was
lowered to the security of my wheelchair, where, not only did I feel physically
safe but I felt mentally satisfied.
After another 42 hours travel, through Victoria, Seattle,
Oregon and California, I arrived back in Santa Barbara on Thursday, where there
was another ‘Keg Party’…. where another hangover surely followed !.
Another early start, this time 6:30am. I arrived at the
station with just seconds to spare, the 6 hour journey bought me into San Diego
at lunch time. Enough time to find a hostel, which had really modern facilities
and was in a great location. I dumped my bags and headed off to explore San
Diego, A very big city with a large downtown area and mile upon mile of beach.
I discovered the Planet Hollywood restaurant and remembering
a ‘Special Friend’ coupon someone had given me, I jumped the cue and expected
some free food or something special but no, I just ordered my food (the
cheapest thing on the menu), a not so special burger and given a the large
bill. Before I left I ducked into the toilets a butler awaited to wash my hands
and spray me with after shave, for which I presume he wanted a tip – which
wasn’t forthcoming. What I didn’t realise was that Planet Hollywood is a
‘classy’ restaurant so didn’t I feel like a ‘prat’ in shorts and t-shirt !.
San Diego being beside the Mexican border, makes it a
favourite trip for anyone visiting San Diego. I took the tram to Tjuanna, the
Mexican border town, I wasted my day in Mexico. I stuck to the ‘touristy’
market which was 100 meters from the border crossing and didn’t even get into
Tjuanna town. However, I enjoyed the market where I had my first real haggling
experience which is so common and ‘later’ to be enjoyed in Asian countries.
Back at the YMCA hostel in San Diego I went to use the
extensive gym facilities. There was a fitness room, weights room, swimming
pool, sauna and steam room – I left exhausted !.
The following morning I checked out of the YMCA hostel and
caught a bus down to the beach area to find return to the more relaxed and
informal Banana Bungalow. Banana Bungalow in San Diego was previously a small
hotel on the beach but the 6 bedrooms have been crammed full of 8 or 10 bunk
beds. It wasn’t easy to find a place on the floor for bags, never mind my
wheelchair, so I was constantly wheeling over clothes and shoes. I won’t even
mention the cockroaches. But hey, that’s half the fun part of budget travel !.
Along the old wooden pier there was many fisherman, fishing
is something that I’ve tried on many occasions but with no success. One
fisherman asked me if I would like to use his spare rod, ‘what the hell’ I
thought, I picked up the rod and through the line into the ocean. 20 Minutes
later I had caught a 6 inch Mackerel, 5 inch sea bass, and one big ‘un that got
away when the line broke.
To celebrate I spent the evening drinking Budweiser and people
watching from the beach front patio at Banana Bungalow.
After the previous days success, I returned to the wooden
pier where the fishermen were. But far more fun was watching to other guys
trying to fish as they smoked pot and drank whiskey. There ‘master-plan’ was to
use whole fish as bait to catch a shark, unsurprisingly they caught nothing.
Back at Banana Bungalow sitting on the patio, I got talking
to a guy walking down the boardwalk. He turned out to be a US marine, after
sharing a beer he took me on a personal tour of a restricted Marine base. To
thank him we then went to a Thai restaurant with excellent food. Finally we sat
drinking beers together at Banana Bungalow watching the sea.
Again, it was time to leave, this time to Los Angeles. I
took a bus to the station, train to LA then another bus to the hostel. The
hostel was in an idyllic setting on a rocky outcrop in an isolated area not at
all what I thought LA was like. The hostel was inaccessible for a wheelchair,
which is totally illegal under American law, I expect it in relaxed informal
hostels like Banana Bungalow but not in this formal official hostel. My only
option was to sleep on a mattress on the floor in the reading room.
With 6 weeks past, my pace of travel was exhausting me but
yet another early start and busy day ahead. On the way to the bus stop, I had
another wheelchair accident which left me lying on the road with cuts and
grazes but nothing too severe. I took the bus to Long Beach which is an area
not a just beach and not a very long beach. I spent all day exploring this
heavily industrialised area. Back at the hostel, I spent the evening eating
cheese puffs while watching American sitcoms and talking to a sexy Australian
girl.
Unhappy being forced to sleeping on the floor, I ‘headed for
the bright lights of Hollywood’ not to find fame and fortune but to experience
the ‘glitz and glamour’ of LA. The 4 hour bus ride across LA, showed me the
sheer size and number of people in LA not to mention to the grime and pollution
caused by the traffic density. “LA Sucks !.”.
I stayed in the central YMCA hostel, 2 blocks from Hollywood
Boulevard. I explored the touristy and famous section of the Hollywood
Boulevard – ‘The walk of stars’. My evening excursion onto Hollywood Boulevard
revealed the seedier side of LA.
Staying in hostel has its advantages but also disadvantages.
On the plus side, it is easy to meet people and it is a cheap form of
accommodation but negatively you get no privacy. Which, as that night proved,
if your room mates snore or wake up and have conversations at full volume, you
get no sleep.
As in San Diego, hostel guests get free use of the up-market
YMCA gym. Hollywood being the stars home, I got speaking to another English guy
who lived near to me in my home town but now plays a large role in a classic
American sitcom.
I took the highly congested bus to Beverly Hills. I
checked-out the secluded residential neighbourhood where the stars live then
down the exclusive and very expensive Rodeo Drive. I even considered buying
something as a souvenir, but even cheap ties were 250 dollars which is
definitely not ‘budget traveller’ money.
The vastness of LA means long bus rides but also variety. So
I headed to over to the coast, I would stay in a hostel in Santa Monica, with
Venice beach and Malibu to explore. As I wheeled through Santa Monica I felt an
entirely different atmosphere to in-land LA – it was more relaxed and not so
polluted. I arrived at the hostel with a fresh sense of being about LA. There
was only one hostel in Santa Monica so when they couldn’t find my reservation,
I was faced with the prospect of having to go back to dismal in-land LA. It
took them an hour but they eventually found me a bed. I explored the shops,
beach and the pier. I watched them filming ‘Star Trek’, they were getting
extras from crowd and I wanted to use my ‘killer’ line, “You couldn’t afford
me, darling”.
The famous Venice Beach was my next excursion. Venice felt
even more relaxed than Santa Monica, with its huge beach, stalls selling a
variety of items, street performers and the famous muscle beach gym. I wheeled
along the concrete beach path not knowing whether I was a pedestrian on the
left or bicycle on the right !.
That evening I ‘vegged’ in-front of a movie back at hostel
with my favourite, cheese puffs.
I planned to wake up at 8am to spend the entire day at
Universal studios but sleep took preference. 2 hours later I awoke again and
hurriedly made my way to the bus stop. Stupidly, my destination was back in the
dirty and polluted Hollywood, a 2 hour bus ride from where I came from 2 days
ago – Universal Studios. Backtracking had become my travelling speciality !.
Universal Studios theme park was a thriving mass of
white-knuckle rides and entertaining shows. I didn’t know where to start but
what I didn’t realise was that being in a wheelchair I wouldn’t queue for any
of the rides. For example the new Jurassic park ride had a 3 hour queue which I
just skipped. The most memorable thing was the ‘back lot tour’ which was a tram
ride around sets and studios from movies and TV shows, also several special
effect shows taken from movies. I didn’t stop, didn’t eat and didn’t queue all
day – I did most rides and saw most shows but 1 day just wouldn’t be enough if
you queued, relaxed a little and ate !.
At 11pm I took several buses with transfers back through
the, quite frankly, scary LA night to Santa Monica.
My last day’s stay on the LA coast, I decide to have a lazy
day in Malibu. Well it may have been Malibu, I may have got off the bus too
early because it wasn’t at all built-up as I expected but where-ever I was it
had a great beach. Back at the hostel, socialised and ate the
‘all-you-can-eat’, America’s favourite pastime, barbecue.
My fast pace of travel had left me exhausted so I made my
decision to return to England, I needed to recuperate before I returned for my
final year at university. So I made phone calls to the airline to reserve my
flight home as soon as possible. I would leave LA and the United States in 2
days time, on the 17th of August. The problem was my newly acquired wheelchairs
were still in Santa Barbara, the cheapest and easiest way to get them to LA
would be to collect them myself. My rail pass would allow me to get the tickets
for free and travelling with me, should, have made loss impossible.
I took the long bus ride across LA to catch the train to
Santa Barbara. At the second-hand shop in Santa Barbara, picked up my 2 new
wheelchairs to take back to the station where I would check them in for
transportation to LA with me, the following day. My initial idea was to pull
them in ‘train and carriage’ fashion back to the station but towing 2
wheelchairs behind my own wheelchair proved impossible. Thankfully, a good
Samaritan offered to help and took me and 3 wheelchairs, in her car, down to the
station.
Obviously, I choose to stay at, my favourite hostel, Banana
Bungalow where there was another infamous ‘keg party’ in full swing.
My final day’s schedule had to precise and if I was delayed
at any point, I would miss my return flight to England.
I needed to be at the station in Santa Barbara to catch the
train back to LA at 7:45am
Get into LA station at 10:15am to reclaim my check-in
wheelchairs
Get my pre-booked airport shuttle bus at 10:45am
Check in at the airport at 12:30am for my flight to Houston
A 30 minute flight connection time from Houston to London
It wasn’t my day, travel wasn’t fun if ‘everything’ went
smoothly but for nothing to go smoothly was way beyond fun.
I very nearly missed the train leaving Santa Barbara, for
which I take the blame, the previous nights intake of alcohol had taken its
toll and I left the hostel late.
The train was delayed on its journey so it arrived 15
minutes late into LA station, I still had 15 minutes to collect my 2 checked-in
wheelchairs and bag, so this should not have been a big problem. Amtrak,
thankfully, had remembered to bring the wheelchairs and bag to LA, they had
been bought down on an earlier train and were waiting for me in the baggage
office. Amtrak, proving their total incompetence, made my nightmares a reality,
they had lost the key to the locked baggage room. Most of my possessions, a bag
and 2 wheelchairs were unreachable.
The airport shuttle bus I had pre-booked was not waiting to
take me to the airport, but this was probably a blessing in disguise, because I
had time to wait for Amtrak to bring in a locksmith. After nearly an hour of
extreme anguish about missing my flight departure for this, my first ever trip
out of England. The shuttle bus eventually arrived at 11:15am and my only option
was to leave my bag and wheelchairs in America, and trusting Amtrak that they
would send them by courier to England.
The airport shuttle was, again, held up again in traffic
arriving at the airport with only 10 minutes before my flight departed.
It was too late, the airline staff tried to get me on the
plane, but it wasn’t to be. My worst fear had become a reality. It was my first
time out of England and I was destined not to return.
I was worrying for nothing, A flight via Newark to London
was leaving later that day. A phone call to my parents explaining I would be
arriving home late was all it took. Amtrak had time to send my missing baggage
to the airport so I could return to England complete !.
I caught my flight via Newark to London with no further
‘hick-ups’. My days numerous problems were behind me. The return flight to
England gave me time to reflect on my many great experiences, my travels and
even my future.
My travelling experience opened my eyes to the world and its
people, my life and future had changed forever. I would return to England to
complete my university course before continuing my travels in either Europe,
America or Australia.
The realisation had been more than the dream ever was.
6. Europe – like it or not ?
Belgium, France and Spain
With no reason in the immediate future for me to return
home, I decided to embark upon a world trip. Firstly Europe, because it has a
well travelled budget travellers route – America, the country I would always
love – New Zealand, because of its reputation for extreme sports – Australia,
because of the weather, easy going lifestyle and all travellers from England
seem to go there.
My plan was to go all around Europe visiting a bulk of
European countries before returning to England for a matter of days before
flying to the United States.
A new trip but the same early start. I had to buy an
Inter-rail pass from one station then get across London to catch the Euro star
train at a different station. Again, as with many train situations, I arrived
with moments to spare. For the second time, I was seated in 1st class, this
time with carriage empty bar me and ate prawns, salmon, strawberries and cream.
I arrived in Brussels, Belgium at 2:30pm and immediately made a reservation for
Koln, Germany.
I checked-in and paid for the hostel on my VISA card. 20
Minutes later my card had disappeared, after an hour of frantic searching, I
phoned the bank to cancel the card and order a replacement.
I went out later and my previous expectations of Brussels
were correct – it was a cold wet city with little or nothing to do. What made
it worse was that the hostel was in an area known for riots. The rain made the
entire atmosphere depressing.
To end a not so perfect day, I had a stomach upset, probably
due to the Euro star prawns.
The next day I stayed in bed till 3pm, not feeling so good
from the previous days, not so 1st class, prawns. I managed to venture down the
road to buy some ‘iced gems’ which I ‘scoffed’ while watching Wimbledon on the
BBC.
At 9:30 the next morning a courier arrived with my new visa
card, which gave me the chance to check-out and leave this cold and wet hell
hole. At the train station decided to enquire about a train going south to
Barcelona to escape the rain of central Europe. I took a train to Paris hoping
there might be a seat on a train going south to Barcelona. I hurriedly boarded
a high speed Thalys train to Paris, mistakenly in first class, being first
class of a high speed train, the ticket shouldn’t have been free with my
inter-rail pass – but I refused to pay. I had a 6 hour wait and changed
stations in Paris but then got a sleeper train to Barcelona.
Early next morning, as the sun rose over the
Pyranesemountains, We had to change trains at the Spanish border. As we
approached the top of one of the mountains the train got slower and slower and
then stopped, the reason being that the train couldn’t get traction dew to the
due on the track. Everyone got off the train, onto a bus to go by road over the
mountain crest, then board another train to get to Barcelona.
Barcelona – an old friend !. To welcome me back I fell,
unceremoniously, out of my wheelchair onto the busiest road in Barcelona. I
returned to the renovated monastery hostel where I stayed 2 months ago and I
headed for the disabled shower as I mentioned before, this is the most
relaxing, hot, massaging, power shower I have ever had the privilege to use !.
The next day I took the bus into the centre, sat ‘people
watching’ at Place Catalunya then went down Les Rumbles. An unforeseen disaster
then happened, it started to rain, heavily. My initial reason to come to
Barcelona was to escape the rain, it had followed me, so I returned to the
hostel depressed and dejected.
The following day the weather had improved. I took the bus
and then the metro, first in the wrong direction then back to the mountain,
where I took a tram up the mountain and a cable car to get a great view of
Barcelona. I took another bus to the station to enquire about trains to
Marseille in Southern France, Outside the station I saw a huge, and, to be
honest, scary 100ft puppet suspended in a scaffold frame being paraded down the
road while crowds amassed, very strange !.
Despite the depression and dejection of the heavy rain
2 days ago, it was another sunny day. I headed to enjoy the beach for the day.
I needed to get on my ‘travelling way’ so took a bus to the
station to book the following day’s train to Marseille in France. Somewhere and
somehow I lost an all important glove meaning my hands would be unprotected
from friction burns caused by hills and within minutes they would be black with
dirt, which put me in a bad mood from the outset.
Then deciding to make the most of the warm weather so
decided to get another bus to the beach, now with one very dirty hand, I
boarded the bus. As was normal, I didn’t pay, I think the drivers expected me
to have a free disabled pass, but of course I didn’t. This time an official
looking conductor boarded, I had seen the large red signs, warning of a hefty
fine, I expected the worst. Surprisingly and very thankfully I only had to pay
the regular price for a ticket.
I then proceeded to get very sunburnt on the beach and pier
before returning to the hostel for a fantastic massage shower.
An early check-out and bus ride to the station to catch the
train to Montpellier then transfer to a 1st class train to Marseille. Marseille
was cold and wet, it looked ‘drab and dreary’ not as I had expected the south
of France.
The cheapest way to get to the hostel was on the Metro,
which had no lifts just stairs and escalators. But being a budget traveller I
wasn’t about to let it beat me. I got people to carry me and my wheelchair down
flights of stairs, down escalators and onto the train – then up again at the
other end – all in broken English !.
I got a Mercedes 600 taxi to the hostel, a supposedly
wheelchair accessible hostel, which had no access to the toilet or bathroom.
As my European travels weren’t going well, the weather was
and it wasn’t fun or exciting, so I decided to return home the following day.
I checked out, took a taxi to the metro where I caused the
same amount of havoc as the previous day. Getting people to carry me up and
down stairs and escalators, this time I was told off by an official who told me
I couldn’t use the Metro unaccompanied – Simple, get a lift and there would be
no problem !.
I got a high speed TGV train back to Paris, 1st class,
changed stations in Paris and got the Euro star back to London, 1st class,
again.
I only spent 11 days in Europe, visiting only a fraction of
the countries I intended.
For many of my train journeys I travelled 1st class. I paid
no more than the regular fare (in fact the tickets were free, I bought a cheap
student inter-rail pass). It is a policy of all European train companies to put
wheelchair passengers in 1st class. 1st class for free – a budget travellers
dream !.
Europe – like it or loathe it ?. – Loathe it, Unfortunately
Europe was too cold & wet, it wasn’t fun, I was spending too much money, it
wasn’t exciting but worst of all I wasn’t meeting and interacting with people
which always has been my main reason for travel.
My European travels ended prematurely allowing my 3rd trip
to the United States to begin earlier than I predicted.
7. A family holiday destination or a travellers
delight ?
Florida, USA :Orlando to Key West
The continuation of my travels was to continue in the
country they started, the United States. It was going to be a sun drenched
Christmas in the family holiday heaven of Florida. But Christmas is not a good
time to fly anywhere, let alone a holiday destination. Phoning around to get
the best price wasn’t applicable, phoning around to get any flight at all was
my mission. I phoned approximately 30 companies, I couldn’t find flight
availability to anywhere in Florida leaving anytime before Christmas. All there
was, was a fight leaving Christmas Day morning, which would mean Christmas on
an aeroplane, but if I wanted to go it would have to be. I was going with Jon,
my brother, for 8 days, he would then return home and I would travel alone for
8 days. 8 days before flying we booked 2 seats to Orlando via Washington.
Christmas Day : a cold and wet morning as we left for
Heathrow. As a Christmas treat we were upgraded to Business class, big seats,
champagne before take-off and numerous meals served on real china with a
‘frilly’ table cloth !. The food was exquisite, on the menu was quails eggs,
tiger prawns and Dover sole. After the 8 hour flight we jumped in a cab,
stuffed and drunk, which took us to our hostel in Kissimmee. The weather was in
stark contrast to that at our origin 8 hours ago, it was hot and humid. The
time difference had made Christmas day 29 hours !.
We spent Boxing day lying in the sun by the pool getting a
tan while bird watching !.and drinking special Pepsi – the ‘special’ ingredient
being vodka. On our return to the Liquor store the manager must have decided we
where police because he refused to sell me alcohol, although I was legally
entitled, Jon was too young to drink. Across the street they didn’t abide by this
stupid law.
The hostel and shops were on different sides of a very busy
highway, we looked right then left to check it was clear, it was, so Jon pushed
me at full pace. But as we got to the second carriageway a car going at
lightning speed from the right very nearly sent me into orbit !. We had
forgotten that in America the cars travel on the opposite side of the road to
England, therefore we should have looked left then right, not right then left.
We went to bed early with sun-stroke !.
Orlando is all about Disney World, we would firstly visit
the Epcot Centre and we didn’t know what to expect. The Epcot Centre is split
into 2 sections, Future World and World Showcase. Future world is
demonstrations, shows and exhibits about science and technology in the past,
present and future. Basically a glorified museum. Me and Jon were not in the
slightest impressed and after 4 hours were going to leave, We decided to go for
a quick walk around World Showcase. World Showcase is made up of about 20
areas, each representing a country, each area has food, costumes, architecture,
exhibits and shows which are representative of that country. It was
terrific, we stayed till 11pm when the park closed.
The following day was Disney World again, but this time
Magic Kingdom, and with premixed ‘special’ Pepsi. Magic Kingdom is made up of 5
‘worlds’, 4 for families and kids but Future world had impressive shows and
white-knuckle rides. Again, we left as the park closed at midnight
We left the Disney orientated Orlando and headed west on the
Greyhound bus to the ocean at Clearwater. Clearwater is a small town where
beach-life rules, it has a Californian feel and the ‘surf is always up !. The
hoste4l was listed as an official type hostel but far from it, it was a party
hostel where alcohol is an integral part of guests lives. And yes, cockroaches
were abundant.
The following day was spent ‘bird watching’ on the beach.
Back at the hostel the one responsible guest had made spaghetti bolognaise
which we shared before going out to party with everyone else. I didn’t feel
well so returned to bed early at 11pm I through-up covering my pillow and
sheet.
New years eve and I spent the day in bed, I through-up twice
more – presumably due to the previous nights gift of spaghetti bolognaise.
A new-day and a new year – I felt fine. We hired a canoe and
went down a creek for 3 hours – admittedly Jon did most of the paddling !. On
Jon’s last afternoon in Florida we increased our tans and relaxed on the beach
with more ‘special’ Pepsi.
An early start so Jon could get an early Greyhound bus back
to Orlando and his flight home and I took a Greyhound down to Miami. I had
booked a bed in nice looking hostel but when I arrived it was on the second
floor they told me of a new hostel with ground floor rooms, called Banana
Bungalow. My favourite hostel chain with a new branch in Miami, excitement
alone could have got me, the mile, to the new Banana Bungalow. Again, it was
once a hotel with all the rooms facing the central pool. Each room had 4 or 6
beds, its own cable TV, its own bathroom and no cockroaches !.
The next day I went on a mission of discovery, Miami is the
place to be and be seen. The number of attractive women and beach babes is
unsurpassed. I wheeled for miles – through the Art Deco district, down the
wooden beach promenade, across the Beach Walk and up Ocean Drive, the hundreds
of sidewalk cafes near Beach Walk gave it a very cosmopolitan atmosphere.
I returned to Banana Bungalow totally exhausted. Which is
why the sign I read made my heart sink “Tonight – Keg Party – Free”, the keg
parties I love so much, tonight and free, but I was too exhausted to
participate.
I had one beer and collapsed into bed, I was awoken at 4am
with the party in full swing and people were being thrown in pool – and I
missed it all !.
The central swimming pool at Banana Bungalow was a ‘major
hangout’, many guests spent the day sitting in the sun by the pool. On my third
day in Miami I decided to join the majority and spend the day relaxing round
the pool admiring the view – topless girls !.
After watching hours of sitcoms in the big screen TV room, I
learn of many more topless girls who spend the day at the beach – which then
immediately became the plan for the following day !.
My intended final day in Miami was spent in the manner in
which I had planned, I went down to the enormous beach. The problem being
is, thin wheelchair tyres just sink in sand, with no mats or other boat access,
I appeared to be destined not to experience Miami beach life. As if from
nowhere, A friendly life guard appeared in his pick-up truck, he through the
wheelchair in the back and took me down the beach. Unfortunately, there was
only one female topless sunbather and I was stuck there, cooking in the sun,
until 4pm when the lifeguard came back in his pick-up truck.
The evening was spent in the company of my roommates, this
is the greatest thing about staying in hostels, you are put in a room full of
new faces but with a common goal – having fun on a travellers meagre budget. We
watched a beauty contest in our room then went out for a cheap Burger King. I
tried to sleep early but drunken shouting and laughing from the pool side bar
made sound sleep difficult.
I decided I needed to get on my ‘travelling way’ again. I
decided to get a Greyhound bus to the most southerly point in Florida, in fact
the entire United States – Key West. I checked-out of Banana Bungalow and
caught the bus for the Greyhound station but after a while deduced that I had
got the bus going in wrong direction it was coming from not going to the
Greyhound station !. By this time I had missed the Greyhound so returned to the
Banana Bungalow for a retry the following day
Checked-out of Banana Bungalow, again. This time taking a
taxi to the Greyhound station. The bus trip was amazing, from island to island,
down to Key West. The ocean so clear and blue, the bright sun shone as we
travelled over the long bridges.
After checking into the hostel made my way to the
Southernmost point marker for the United States, unfortunately I had just
missed the-multi-coloured sunset.
Key West appeared to be the home of many tramps and beggars,
many of who wanted to share the contents of my wallet. Explored Key West, the
shops, market and the actual Key. I had seen many adverts for a strip club so
on my return to the hostel went to view the strip club. This was my first
encounter of such an establishment. I got there and at first didn’t dare enter,
I said to myself “am I a man or a mouse”. Using all my courage I entered the
‘den of sin’, once inside I headed past the stage and straight to the bar,
with-out even glancing at the stage. I was petrified. I order a beer and only
then took a peek at the naked female on stage. After a few beers I began to
enjoyed my peek at the unclothed bodies of these fair maidens !.
Little did I know that this type of occupation would become
a regular feature of my travels !.
Key West was too expensive and too touristy, the only hostel
in town was not a friendly place. I checked-out of the hostel and as I made my
way to the Greyhound station where I was hit by a car reversing out of its
drive-way. I think the car came off worse than me as I put a nice scratch on
the rear while I had only been shocked.
Key West was a beautiful town with nice colonial style
wooden buildings and a good atmosphere but the tourists had over-run the town
and the cost of everything was ridiculous. The best deal for the budget
traveller is the Burger King nationwide policy of free refills, so I sat their
drinking refill after refill of my small Coke.
Before catching my Greyhound, a quick restroom visit was a
near disaster as I managed to get my wheelchair stuck in the cubicle, I caught
the bus with seconds to spare. The Greyhound to Miami, then overnight to
Orlando (with no sleep) and a shuttle to the airport was my last experience of
America before a return flight home.
I had a morning flight to Washington then a 10 hour wait in
Washington airport before my flight home. I was still in shorts and
t-shirt, my Florida attire, so the fact there was snow in Washington made
me suffer the cold and boredom. The boredom was over-come with trips back and
forth on the free inter-terminal shuttle and wheeling in the opposite direction
down the moving walkways. Then my flight home arriving at 7am – still not of
had sleep !.
My two and a half week trip to Florida, again, made me
realise my love for travelling and my travelling experiences were not over just
on hold. I would continue my travels during my next break from University.
8. In search of the sun in Europe
Barcelona, Spain & Paris, France
My travels were, undoubtedly, to continue, but where ?. It
was Easter time so flying anywhere at short notice would be difficult ant very
expensive. With limited time and on a limited budget I decided to travel
through Spain and France. I could get a cheap flight to Barcelona and back
through France on the train, giving me the opportunity to experience deep sea
transit !. – The channel tunnel.
The precedent had been set, early starts had become the
travelling reality. A 6am start and another airport run. Once we disembarked
from the plane there were language difficulties, from baggage handling staff to
taxi drivers. The problems faced with trying to handle, position, dismantle my
wheelchair were very difficult with not being able to explain what to do.
The hostel was a large renovated monastery which looked
pleasant and but was a long way from the centre – peaceful but isolated, not my
scene. The language problems also became apparent at the hostel, it was really
depressing me that I couldn’t listen too or converse with other fellow
travellers. I then had a terrible institutional style dinner – in silence. The
entire atmosphere made the hostel feel like a prison. I just wanted to return
home – very very soon.
The sole good point that day was meeting one of the very few
wheelchair travellers I have met. His name was Alan, a lawyer from Brazil, who
was travelling Europe by train – he was an inspiration about Barcelona – he
told me about wheelchair accessible buses and where to go.
I went down the steep hill to catch the wheelchair
accessible bus. I took the bus all the way through Barcelona to the centre,
town hall square, which was actually a circle !. The atmosphere, people and
buildings were typically European.
I still felt lost and had nowhere to go, with no guide book
and no-one to ask, I got back on the bus to return to the hostel. I bought some
bread and cheese from a very European style patisserie. My thoughts were still
of how to get home.
I sat on the balcony at the hostel in solitude, it was a
warm sunny day and I looked out over the beautiful Spanish country-side. I sat
and thought about my trip and realised that, although Europe was distinctly
different to my travels in America, it wasn’t necessarily worse just different.
I was actually enjoying my travels in Barcelona, despite the previous days
negativity.
This was Europe and most people could speak some degree of
English plus it was a multi-national hostel where many people’s first language
is English, so blatantly I was worrying about nothing and any language problems
were immaterial.
With the gloom lifted, I headed for the personal disabled
shower. I must mention that, even to this day, I have never known a better
shower, the water was steaming hot, the water pressure was so strong, I sat in
the shower for nearly 1 hour, being massaged by the water.
The next morning, I woke with a fresh sense of vigour. Again
I took the bus into the centre but this time armed with my tourist map of
Barcelona with accessible bus routes marked. I wheeled down to the beautiful
old cathedral then down to marina, which had some amazing yachts on show. I
could really see the beauty of Barcelona with the warm sun shining. I then
wheeled through Barcelona park and through to the Spanish version of the Arc de
Triumph. I then took the bus to the Olympic village and wheeled along the beach
front, where topless beach babes adorned – although the sun was shining the
wind made it nippley, sorry, nippy !.
After a very busy and fulfilling day, I returned to the
hostel where I ate a weird combination European style dinner of cheese, salami,
turkey burgers and croquette’s. After dinner had an informative chat with Alan
about travel in a wheelchair. I went to bed exhausted but having had a
wonderful and fulfilling day.
Took several buses to the station to get a train ticket to
Paris, a sleeper train the following evening. After a long search to find the
hostel booking office and a disaster from wheeling through dog mess, I joined
the booking queue – the 2 hour queue. Eventually it was my turn but all the
hostels in Paris were full which would mean either staying in an expensive
hotel or not staying in Paris.
I caught the bus back to the beach, where I hoped to see
more topless girls. Sadly it has too windy so I sat at a promenade restaurant
where I tried a traditional seafood paella. Before returning to the hostel and
the fantastic shower !.
I checked out and took my bags to the train station to leave
in the lockers. I took the bus to Mount Conjuric, where the Olympic stadium are
then a tram to top, where there was an amazing view of Barcelona. I took
Metro to Sagrada Famila, a half finished cathedral then a bus back to beach –
Where there was more topless young girls. I then took a bus to top of, the
supposedly famous, Les Rambles, I wheeled down Les Rambles and saw the amazing
sunset.
Supposed, the bus stop at the bottom of Les Ramble was where
I could get a bus to the train station, I waited for 90 minutes and still no
bus. I had just enough time to make it under my own steam so I hurriedly
wheeled to station. I arrived with minutes to spare, I looked at their
clock – 21.13 – I looked at my watch – 20:13 – I had missed the train !.
An hour of panic ensued but I decided to get the same train
the following night, I changed my watch and returned to the hostel.
I checked out, again, and took my bags to the train station
to leave in the lockers, again. I spent several hours ‘people watching’ at town
hall circle !., then took a bus down to the beach where I spent the rest of the
day ‘people watching’.
I arrived at station with train leaving earlier than I
thought, so another rush down the platform to my carriage – the last of 87
carriages !. The train had just started to move as I was being ‘manhandled’ to
my sleeper compartment.
After a reasonably good night’s sleep, the train pulled into
Paris station at 8:15am, I was to spend the day in Paris and get an evening
Euro star train through the channel tunnel back to London. Paris, being a huge
city, had multiple stations and I had arrived at a different one to where the
Euro star trains departed. I took a taxi past the cathedral of Notre Dame to
the correct station, bought an evening Euro star ticket and took another taxi
to the Eiffel tower. The view from up the famous Paris icon was amazing,
although the city wasn’t as classically European looking as my view of
Barcelona. I then sat in the sun in the park below the Eiffel tower ‘people
watching’ before taking a taxi to the Arc de Triumph and wheeling down the
Chanes Ellysae.
My train was booked for 8:15pm, being rush hour in Paris, I
decided to head back to the station at 5:15pm. I waited an hour for a taxi, but
nothing so I decided to hurriedly wheel back, after wheeling for an hour and a
half, I found a taxi which only just got me to the station in time. I hadn’t
enough French Francs for the fare so I convinced him to take double the fare in
Spanish Paesators.
Going through the channel tunnel means a border crossing
with passport control and customs officers. For an unknown reason the customs
officer decided to search me, unfortunately I had bought a souvenir knife in
Barcelona – he found it. I missed my train, got a telling off, a fine and a
record on my passport that I was trying to bring an illegal weapon into the
country !.
I caught the Euro star an hour later and arrived back in
London at 11:15pm. Only 8 days after my initial flight to Barcelona.
My first European experience taught me many things ; Barcelona
is a beautiful city, the wheelchair accessible public transport makes it
fantastic. Although Paris is one of the great European cities, no wheelchair
accessible transport makes it less accessible and more expensive in taxi fares.
I hated Spain for the first 24 hours due to the language
difficulties, but after 24 hours I realised that full verbal communication need
not be necessary for enjoyable travelling experiences. Only knowing the words
yes, no and thank-you made me realise language difference is immaterial
But the most important being that solo travel = freedom and
challenges make travelling enjoyable.
9. Around the world – Experiencing unknown delights
The United States and Canada
With many itineraries tried, a viable route was decided
upon, dates set and a round-the-world airline ticket purchased.
My first destination Would be the United States, starting in
Boston and ending in Hawaii, travelling to as many towns or cities as I could.
I would get a 3 month VISA for the United States and I intended to utilise it
all.
23rd of July As my travels had started over a year ago, it
was yet another early start, 6am at the Airport at Heathrow. I started my
round-the-world adventure as I intended the entire trip to be, a life enriching
experience, so with confidence I asked about a free upgrade to business class.
They weren’t forthcoming but as I looked like a budget traveller wearing
trainers, shorts and a t-shirt I wasn’t surprised. This became standard
practice as the years went by, I would invariably ask for an upgrade but
looking like a budget traveller not a business executive, I was always refused.
Once in Boston, I took a taxi to the hostel. Right away I
felt the hostel wasn’t going to be to my liking.
After a good night’s sleep it was time to explore Boston. It
was cloudy and wasn’t very warm which didn’t endear me to Boston. The closest
‘point of interest’ was the library, which didn’t make for a very exciting
start.
I then looked around a shopping mall before catching a bus
to Harvard. I inquired about a possible future entry. The high-light of the day
was seeing a street performer performing uncovered escapology, the crowd
witnessed his double jointed’ness’ and ability to dislocate joints at will.
Thankfully the day ended in a far better light than it
started.
The following day I took another bus to Harvard to see some
more of the campus, a metro to a touristy shopping area, another metro to the
J.F.K. memorial, yet another metro to Boston Common and finally a metro and bus
back to the hostel. A busy but uneventful day.
2 months previously I had arranged to meet a friend from
university at a famous bar in Boston at a set time on this day. It took me 2
hours to find the bar but I arrived on time, I waited and waited, I even phoned
his mum in England but to no avail. I then proceeded to the Greyhound bus
station, where I had to wait another 6 hours for my overnight bus to Niagra
Falls.
I went to the Canadian side of the Falls which despite being
very touristy was quite a built-up town. There was only one hostel at Niagra
and it had steps everywhere but my choice as a budget traveller was limited to
the hostel or sleeping rough !.
I had a stereotypical Canadian breakfast of pancakes with
maple syrup before going on the tourist’s favourite, Maid of the Mist, a boat
ride around the base of the falls. I then went up the street full of shops
selling expensive tourist tack and into the huge newly built casino. The fact
that people would sit in-front of a machine for hour upon hour feeding it
dollar after dollar amazed me.
As I mentioned before, Niagra is very touristy but I thought
it had a very friendly atmosphere and was a great little town.
One night in a hostel full of steps was enough. I got the
morning Greyhound up to Toronto, where immediately I got the impression of
cleanliness and modern environment of Toronto. I checked-out the main street
and the huge Eton centre (a complex full of shops, entertainment, restaurants,
etc).
I found a hostel which is a university dormitory for most of
the year but for the summer vacation it becomes a hostel. It was a huge place
with only a few guests so I got a private room. After my dinner, one of the
best street vendor hot dog’s I have ever had, I decided I wanted some beer. Off
I went to find a liquor store, I knew general stores couldn’t sell beer, but I
had no idea the liquor stores in Canada were so few and far between. I wheeled
round for an hour and still no liquor store, I returned to the hostel tired and
with no alcoholic refreshment !.
I had only been travelling for a week and already I was
exhausted, too much wheeling and too little relaxing, so I had a very quiet
day. I got out of bed at 1pm, went out to eat and resumed my beer hunt – this
time with success. Then sat watching US sitcoms on TV all evening with, my favourite,
cheese puffs and alcoholic refreshment !.
Checking-out a Canadian Chinatown was the day’s mission,
would it compare to San Francisco’s ?. It did, it wasn’t as big but the
colours and smells of all the weird and wonderful products were as vibrant. The
Chinese characters on the many signs and Chinese language being spoken gave it
that authentic ‘oriental feel’.
Despite the previous days rest I was still getting pain from
my wrist due to too much wheeling. So I spent the evening at a strip club watching
Canadian flesh and drinking over-priced beer !.
The CN tower was the following days adventure. Going up the
tallest structure in the world is a very touristy activity but it was worth the
expense as I got a great view of the ‘Great Lakes’. The glass floor area which
allows you to see the ground far, far below and the muscular German tourist who
pulled me up a flight of stairs to the upper outside viewing platform, at the
time, were worth noting – But are pointless details now !.
I took the metro to the inaccessible Eton centre station.
Then spent 5 hours in the strip club watching more Canadian flesh and drinking
more over-priced beer !.
Another lazy morning in bed, a 3rd and final visit to the
strip club and this time a free hot dog from my new friend, the street vendor.
That evening preparations were being made for the following day’s Caribbean
street carnival, I could feel tension in the air, a physic feeling !. I watched
more American sitcoms and went to bed.
The next morning I woke and immediately put the radio on, my
physic feeling had been correct, someone had been shot and killed just 2
minutes from the hostel.
It was time to leave Canada and re-enter the United States,
I got a Greyhound to Buffalo. This time there was no mention of wheelchair
access at the hostel so I decide to stay just one night. However, when I
arrived the hostel had recently been modernised and the bathroom wheelchair
access was second to none.
I saw a sign advertising a free Shakespeare in the Park concert
– being a budget traveller, the word ‘free’ is highly appreciated and therefore
a must do or must see activity – It turned out to be a quite professionally
performance of different Shakespeare plays. It was an outdoor concert, the
stage area at the bottom of the hill and the audience sat on the grassy slope
leading up the hill. It was a warm evening but earlier that day it had been
raining which meant the grass was wet and very slippery.
Sitting half way up the embankment, I suddenly felt my
wheels slip and soon I was skidding down the hill in a 4 wheel drift position.
The performance was still going on, the people sitting below me were sent
scattering, as I picked up speed to the point where it was all going to end
horribly. The performance had stopped and at the velocity at which I was
skidding, it was looking like I could end up on stage in a pool of blood.
Luckily or unluckily, I hit mound of dirt and I was sent flying like a
projectile from my wheelchair, I hit the ground and bouncing twice. I was physically
unhurt but my pride was severely bruised.
The performance, on stage, restarted. But my stunt driving
show, the show of the night, had finished. Two guys helped me back into my
wheelchair and I went to sit with them, this time heavily secured half way up
the embankment. We sat and drank beer while watching more of the performance,
as the beer effects increased, our conversations became more frequent and the
volume amplified. Despite my earlier magnificent stunt show, we were
‘encouraged’ to leave, our amplified voices were causing annoyance. Even the
actors on stage were being disrupted by our “un’Shakespeare’like” talk of fast
women and fast cars !.
We decided to head back to the one guy’s house for
refreshments. I choose the wrong time to voice my adverse and immature opinions
on Marriage. I never got the refreshment, When I saw his wedding ring and
wedding photos I knew I had said the wrong thing to a newly-wed and instantly
his previous beer generosity became dislike !.
As planned, next day, I got back on the train and headed for
New York where I immediately transferred to a Washington bound train. As I took
the efficient Washington metro to the hostel, I was stopped and,
embarrassingly, someone tried to give me money much like a what homeless tramp
would beg for. When I found the hostel, I immediately located the hostel,
showered and changed my clothes !.
To recover from my ‘incident’ in Buffalo, I spent the
morning in bed. In the afternoon I went on the FBI tour, like many things in
Washington, it is free – a budget traveller’s favourite word, free. I queued
for hours but it was worth the wait, I saw the American public’s worrying
fascination for guns.
The tall, pencil shaped structure of the Washington
Monument, made famous in so many American movies, is nothing more, nothing less
than it looks in movies. I returned to the hostel too find row and rows of
people sitting on the door step, the reason being is that it is not advised to
walk the streets at night because, despite being Americas capital, the high
number of police a
day I couldn’t go on the tour inside because of some garden
party celebration. I then went to the Air and Space Museum, I am not normally a
Museum loving person but this was the best museum I had ever seen. Then to the
Capitol Building, famous for its dome roof, where all the big American
government department heads and state senators meet. For an unknown reason,
people in wheelchairs got a free private tour, I tried to sound invested and
ask questions but 2 or 3 times I could not refrain from yawning !.
The following day I went on a tour of the pentagon with
other people from the hostel, going through the ‘corridors of power’ in a
building which has restricted public access was exciting. I then returned to
the Air and Space museum to see some more of the exhibits which I failed to see
in this expansive building the previous day, before returning to the hostel
with a punctured tyre.
After repairing and re-inflating the tyre, next morning,
I woke to visit the white house. A huge advantage to being in a
wheelchair is that there is a separate queue, bypassing the 5 hour queue which
everyone else has to join for the limited number of tour places available. To
get a tour place able bodied people must arrive at 5am for the limited number
of tours between 9am and 11am but being in a wheelchair I can and did arrive at
8:50am, just 10 minutes before the first tour. The tour was worth my 10 minute
wait but if I had queued for 5 hours I would have been very disappointed.
Later on, I got the train back to New York, all the
stereotypes of New York taxi drivers being crazy and dangerous are correct. my
ride to the Banana Bungalow hostel in New York was over quickly, with no
respect for the rules of the road and weaving through holes in the congested
traffic seemingly half the size of our car. Despite being advised that the
hostel had wheelchair access, it didn’t – it had a lift but I could not get
into the bathroom – This was Banana Bungalow, a party hostel so I didn’t care.
Characteristically for Banana Bungalow, the hostel was very dirty but had big
comfortable beds which provided me with a good sleep.
Breakfast – New York style. I went into a general store for
a sandwich, I knew sandwiches in America were large with generous filling but
this was New York a bigger and better America than normal. The sandwich I got
was obese and not with copious amounts of salad, it was 2 regular, meagre
slices of bread with a light covering of mayonnaise and then an inch thick
‘door-stop’ of meat. A sandwich – New York style.
I had 2 days in which to explore New York, the famous icons
around New York my itinery. I went to the epicentre first, Times Square, The
chaos of New York became evident with over 10 million people passing through
Times Square every day. Then Broadway and 42nd street, the birthplace of so
many musicals. I then went down to see the world’s financial hub, the Wall
Street stock exchange. From there the free Stratton island ferry past the
statue of liberty, the symbol of American freedom. Finally the, not so famous,
Battery park market. I went to bed exhausted.
Although American’s speak English, New Yorkers, appear, only
to speak it to a small degree they appear to have picked up a ‘regional
dialect’ which makes full understanding impossible.
My sleep had not given me sufficient rest so still
exhausted I left the hostel to explore some more of New York’s famous icons.
5th Avenue, New York’s up market shopping district then the Empire State
building, with views of the sprawling metropolis with the contrast of the huge
‘green’ Central Park. Finally Macy’s, reportedly the largest department store
in the world, but it must recently have been on a diet !.
I returned to the train station, where I had come from only
2 days previously, exhausted after my 2 day world-wind tour of New York. I was
taking a short ride down to Philadelphia where I intended to relax after the
hustle and bustle of New York. As I should of known by then, my ‘travelling
plans’, more often than not, don’t always happen as I intend.
This time it was the sleeping arrangement at the hostel in
Philadelphia. It was about a year before I was forced to sleep on the floor in
a hostel TV room, now it was to happen again. All the bedrooms were upstairs so
my only option was to sleep on the floor in the TV room downstairs, albeit on a
mattress. Thank god for small mercies !.
Sleeping as the last person went to bed and waking as the
first rose, I managed a precisely a third of the amount of sleep I needed.
Doing nothing would mean wasting possible new unchartered travelling experience
so I headed down to the US Mint, the American coin makers factory, albeit with
my eyes only half open.
It was a very uninteresting activity, but I wanted to record
the record the interior exhibits, for what ?., I don’t know. As my flash went
off to take a photo of an impressive looking eagle statue, numerous flashing
sirens started and piercing alarm bells ringing. I assumed that I might see
some action from an armed gang trying to rob the factory, but no, no armed gang,
just me and my camera trying to take an innocent photo. 2 security guards
sprinted into the room and started to interrogate me about my criminal act of
photography !.
My sleep deprivation explains how I missed the numerous
signs that prohibit it photography. So I spent an easy afternoon at Penn’s
landing, a semi-famous harbour and another evening watching TV, with my
favourite, ‘cheese puffs’.
Sleeping on the floor in the TV room was not an ideal
situation to aid relaxation, so I took a Greyhound bus to Atlantic City, a tame
Las Vegas on the east coast. I needed to find a budget hotel to ail my tired
limbs !. I found a good cheap room above an Irish Pub which was in an ideal
location, virtually on the beach.
In Atlantic City I gained the immediate attention of all the
unsavoury characters – tramps, drunks and general weirdo’s. But the privacy of
a hotel room gave me the time and space I needed to unwind and relax.
The next morning, the aging lift had broken which meant I
was stuck upstairs. Within 45 minutes it was fixed but the hotel staff offered
me a free night for the inconvenience caused – for only a 45 minute wait I
could break the lift everyday and stay there for weeks for free every night !.
That afternoon, I wheeled down the rest of the old style
wooden boardwalk and saw some of the many casinos. Across the road from my
hotel was a strip club which, being so close, I felt it my duty to explore !.
The following day, unfortunately, the lift was working so I
proceeded down the boardwalk to a casino which offered free bingo, free with a
catch !. I decided to see how free it was. I was taken right through the
casino, past all the slot machines, card tables, roulette wheels, restaurant
and bar, so I could see how fantastic the casino was.
The free bingo was upstairs so a blond casino Barbie doll
took my free card upstairs to play for me. I assumed I couldn’t win, nobody
would win. But I was wrong, the Barbie doll came down stairs and told me I had won,
not too much, but enough for 2 more nights’ accommodation. Of course the money
was on a card used for credit on their own casino slots but I used a tiny
amount on the 5c slots and cashed in the rest. Maybe it wasn’t so unfortunate
the hotel lift was working, if it hadn’t, I’d have missed the lucrative free
bingo.
Later, I saw an unimpressive Las Vegas style cabaret and
again, drunk way to much at a strip club resulting in me collapsing on the
floor in my room, which is where I slept. Surrealistically, my reason for
staying in a hotel was to avoid being forced to sleep on the floor !.
Nursing my hangover, I headed downstairs to the Irish Pub
where their hangover cure was aptly named a ‘Poor Richards Special’ – it was a
surprising good hangover remedy of soup and steal sandwich.
Atlantic City had proved to be a cheap destination, with
free accommodation and a casino win.
Later that day I took a Greyhound back to Philadelphia where
I slept on the floor in the hostel before catching a train back up to Buffalo.
I wanted to re-experience the good times which I had on my previous visit, I
should have known the previous spontaneous visit couldn’t be repeated.
In New York a stereotypically obese black lady sat next to
me. Remember, America is bigger, so this woman wasn’t just fat but overly
obese. She used her seat and half of mine. After 10 minutes of agony, my
confidence kicked in and I asked her to move.
I arrived in Buffalo with a sense of expectation. The
blisters on my hands were of no consequence, I wanted more fun travelling
experiences.
I soon realised that my previous past experiences in Buffalo
were just that, past. On my first of 2 days I did nothing but see a movie at
the cinema and on the second day all I did is go to see a movie at the cinema.
The most interesting thing I did was eat at McDonald’s 3 times in one day
without throwing up !.
My initial sense of expectation about fun travelling
experiences hadn’t materialised. I didn’t want to stay in Buffalo for a 3rd
boring day so, stupidly thinking the train would be more exciting, caught the
train east bound to Albany where I caught the west bound train at back through
Buffalo to New York and on to Chicago.
Arriving in Chicago 22 hours later, after sleeping on the
floor of the train, I swore never to catch a train one way then come back along
the same route again, total stupidity !.
In Chicago the buses are different to any others in America,
they still have the same wheelchair lift but they have a different clamp
mechanism to secure wheelchairs. I got the first one during the busy rush hour
– I got to my stop, the driver got the lift ready for me to dissent, but I
couldn’t move the clamp mechanism was stuck. I was wrestling with the clamp
release mechanism, lifting it is the usual way to release the clamp but nothing
happened, I was pushing down, pushing it forward, left and right but still
nothing happened. The other passengers were getting annoyed at the delay. Other
passengers and the driver were trying to help but to no avail they were even
trying brute force to open the sturdy clamp mechanism. The driver eventually
asked all the other, infuriated, passengers to get off and catch the next bus.
The driver phoned his manager and an engineer to come down in a car, they got
on the bus, walked over to me and pulled the release mechanism backwards,
towards me. It opened, easily. I was free despite causing much rush hour
commotion. The manager and engineer just stood there with a puzzled looks on
their faces, as if to say ‘What ?.?.?.’.
I found the hostel which was similar to the one in Toronto,
a university dormitory for most of the year but a hostel for the summer. They
gave me a 2 bedroom self contained flat with bathroom, kitchen and living room
all to myself.
4 weeks had gone by and surprisingly it had only rained
once, my first day in Chicago was the second – Chicago the windy city or should
it be Chicago the rainy city !.
It was only midday which gave me time to explore Chicago,
albeit in the rain. My first stop was a very impressive, newly built, all marble
building which uninspiring turned out to be a library. Then up and back down
the 2 main streets of high-rise Chicago.
The following day I saw a free outdoor jazz jam which was so
informal that it had to be the work of musical geniuses. I then went to a Nike
Town store which is a 3 story shop devoted entirely to anything and everything
with the Nike brand and next door the Sony Centre which is the same but
exclusively Sony products.
A morning trek to see what I hoped might be an interesting
spectacle, was a waste of arm power. I went to see the largest commercial
building in the world, Merchandise Mall. It is a very touristy activity to go
and see ‘the largest something’ or ‘the tallest something else’. I didn’t know
what to expect but it was a very large grey rectangular block type building, it
looked very much like a prison. It had only 2 floors for shopping and 13 floors
of ……. other commercial stuff.
The building of Illinois of the other hand was
architecturally interesting, it was also a shopping mall but it had strange
inverted curved walls and weird sculptures outside .
I bought some beer so I could drink and watch TV that
evening at the hostel. There wasn’t a TV in my flat so I went down to the TV
lounge, opened my first beer to watch the movie, no sooner had I done so than
the security guard came over to me and told me alcoholic beverages weren’t
allowed. Hardly a security matter but I decided I would take the beers up to my
room finish the one I was drinking and put the other 3 in my bag for consumption
at a later date, but he was adamant, he was going t confiscate all 4
beers now. I was equally adamant that he wasn’t. I eventually decided my
arguments were falling on deaf ears so I wheeled off mid argument with all 4
beers. The Security guard didn’t follow so I went up to my room and consumed
all 4 in quick succession for maximum effect while listening to music on the
radio.
Having not learned my lesson from the previous morning’s
unsuccessful outing, I went to ‘the tallest building in the world’, Sears
Tower. In fact, that was an interesting experience, looking over Chicago’s
network of canals, the other high rise buildings, dwarfed by their
‘grand-daddy’ and beautiful lake Michigan.
I went to the stock exchange, absolute chaos, then the
beach, deserted, then to Hooters, a restaurant with big breasted Barbie doll
waitresses. As I waited for the bus to return to the hostel, someone tried to
give me money much like a what homeless tramp would beg for, this for a second
time. When I found the hostel, I immediately returned to the hostel, had a good
shower and went to bed.
With only a month gone and only the beginning of my first
world trip. The metropolis of New York and Washington, the nation’s capital,
were long gone – my writing becomes shorter in descriptive content but faster
and easier to read with-out any loss of detail.
There was an air show advertised, which was very impressive.
2.5 million people were expected to see the vast array of flying machines. The
highlight being a thunderous and very low fly-past of a Stealth Bomber. The
following day I visited the Planetarium, which to be honest, was a waste of
time because firstly, it’s a museum and secondly, I had no interest in its
contents. Sitting in the warm sun on the
banks of Lake Michigan over-looking the Chicago skyline was much more relaxing.
I then took the over-night train to Memphis, luckily for me
but unluckily for everyone else, I found a bag of pillows and before the
attendant could give them out I tipped them all on the floor near my seat to
make myself a comfortable mattress. In Memphis, I found a cheap hotel so I
could rest in privacy and watch TV in bed. Watching TV was the best thing I did
in Memphis, my exploration revealed that Elvis is still alive !. Maybe not
physically but Elvis mania is Memphis’s over-powering theme. I only spent
one night there before taking the train down to New Orleans.
I had learnt of a cheap hotel in New Orleans, it had no TV
or private bathroom but I got a private room with air conditioning, a necessity
in New Orleans. The tourist’s favourite street in New Orleans is named Bourbon
Street which has an amazing party atmosphere. After a good night’s sleep I went
down to the huge Riverside mall made famous by a recent accident with a
colossal tanker. I then took a ferry back and forth across the Mississippi
River. While wheeling through the park beside Mississippi River I met a blond,
big breasted lady named Jill. I took her address in Las Vegas and promised to
visit her (This was the first meeting of a good, long lasting friendship). I
then went to the French Market before partaking in drunken activities on
Bourbon Street. I started my escapade in a bar with a 3 for 1 happy hour, after
making some friends in that bar a bar crawl ensued.
Suffering a major hangover, I went back to Bourbon Street to
‘people watch’. I met a pimp and his prostitute, they were an interesting pair,
very ‘cool’ and had money to burn. That evening I could drink with last night’s
new group of friends or hang around with my new pimp friend, I ended up missing
them both and getting drunk alone.
After only 3 hours drunken sleep, caught the train to
Anniston in Alabama where I had arranged to meet Garry (The ex-US marine who I
had met in San Diego the previous year). We drove for an hour to reach his
small, wooden house on the Georgia-Alabama border, I had arranged to stay with
him, his wife and beautiful daughter for a week. That week I really felt the
Southern hospitality I had heard so much about, spent a day with Garry and his wife’s
parents, went fishing on the colossal lake on Garry’s door-step, was a guest of
honour at Garry’s church, had barbecue party, ate at a Korean restaurant which
turned into a full day’s excursion, went shopping at a tax-free military base
supermarket, shot Garry’s two guns – the easily obtainable and perfectly legal
38 Smith and Wesson sent me deaf.
We had an interesting and expensive day in Atlanta. The trip
started well with a look around ‘underground Atlanta’, the problems started
when we decided to take the metro to Centennial Olympic Park. A long journey
made us realise that we had caught the metro in the wrong direction, we crossed
the bridge to the opposite track when a security guard came rushing over to
explain in no uncertain terms to Garry that drinking soda in a metro station
was strictly prohibited. after Garry’s telling off we got the reverse train to
Centennial Olympic Park, we had virtually exited the metro station when Garry
lit up a cigarette, another security guard rushed over, this time Garry was
told off but also issued a fine. After seeing the Olympic Park we went
experience a classic American phenomenon – ‘kerb service’ – greasy food served
through your car window as you sit in nothing more than a car park.
After Atlanta we headed for Garry’s brother in law’s house
to see his classic American hot rod. As could see the shining beast as we
entered the driveway, a ‘71 Firebird with a modified 8 litre engine protruding
from the ‘hood’. Garry’s brother in law had bigger and better competition cars
so he offered Garry the keys to this illegal toy, illegal because of the
omission of seat belts. The rumble of the engine, the speed, the acceleration,
the power slide we pulled were all utterly amazing. The expense of playing with
this toy for an hour were not bore by us, we took the car out with a full tank
of fuel, we bought it back empty, with far less tyre rubber and the engine in a
terrible state (it overheated and stopped twice requiring push starts).
Before I left Garry’s family home, Garry’s wife cooked me a
traditional southern style roast dinner then Garry took me back to Anniston
station to catch a train back to Washington.
I slept on the train floor again before the train arrived in
Washington. On my second visit to Washington I visited the supreme court, the
Capitol building and the Air and Space museum again. The next day I caught the
train down to Newport News and then a speeding bus down to Virginia Beach. The
hostel had no wheelchair access, reluctantly I choose to sleep out in the yard
under the stars. Very surprisingly I had 4 wonderful night’s sleep and
many, many sweet
dreams.
On my first day in Virginia Beach I saw a charity parade of
colossal proportions before exploring the beach, boardwalk and pier, as had
become the ‘norm’ someone lent me a rod and I caught 3 fish. I spoke to a
married couple from Washington, I talked to them about my experiences and
adventures which I was having at that time and my future intentions as a budget
traveller in a wheelchair, they tried to gave me $20, I tried to explain that
charity is not needed or wanted.
The following day was spent at the beach, ‘baking’ in the
intense sun, with the other hostel guests. After another dreamy night’s sleep
under the stars, I was interview by a reporter from the local paper about my
travel experiences and my intention, at the time, to find work. Again, I spent
the day relaxing on the beach in the quiet and tranquil atmosphere of Virginia
Beach.
After seeing the unimpressive sunrise I got the bus back to
Newport News and the train through Washington to New York. I tried
unsuccessfully to use my, expired, rail pass to get to a ticket all the way to
California, I hoped they wouldn’t notice the expiry date on the pass but
unfortunately they did and I was refused. I tried this procedure of trying to
get a free ticket with my expired rail pass 3 times over the following 3 days
but each time they noticed.
I had enjoyed my original 2 day stay in New York so I
decided to stay for 5 more days. The problem was the complete lack of available
hostel beds, I tried several hostels but to no avail. I went to see an old
friend who lived in New York but I couldn’t stay there. I was highly opposed to
staying in an over-priced New York hotel, so with no other option went to the
biggest hostel in New York hoping for a miracle !. They were still adamant that
they had no beds but as I had no-where else to go, but sleep on the street, I
decided to wait in reception. At 1am someone appeared from behind reception and
told us (me and other 5 people) that they had found some empty beds. We
followed this person upstairs to an empty room with 12 mattresses on the floor
which meant me and 5 other people had gone through utter despair for nothing.
After the relief of getting night’s sleep, I headed back to
Times Square and Broadway, I discovered that people in wheelchairs could see
Broadway musicals at a subsidised rate which was less than the cost of a cinema
ticket. That day I saw the first of many Broadway musicals sitting next to
people ‘dressed to the nines’ while I sit there in shorts, T-shirt and trainers
only paying a tenth of their ticket price. That day I saw ‘The life’ before
going back to Times Square .where I drank beer flavoured water in a strip club
and then waited for a bus in the pouring rain for an hour.
On my final few days in New York I spent far too much time
and money in strip clubs and porn shops. I did manage to get to a ‘Ricki Lake
show’ TV show taping and see ‘Phantom of the Opera’ on Broadway.
I decided to get a train from the East to West coast, a trip
of over 3,000 mile, stopping once in Glenwood Springs in the Colorado Rockies
for a day. I boarded the train in New York bound for Chicago where I would
immediately transfer to the train bound for the West coast. As was becoming a
regular occurrence, I slept on the floor.
There was a ‘strange’ feeling in the air, I couldn’t put my
finger on it but something was amiss. Then an announcement was made, The train
ahead of ours had been derailed which meant a long delay. This meant more
boredom, at least until I met the delectable girl from Ireland. We chatted and
chatted for the length of the delay and the final journey into Chicago. We soon
realised that we had missed the connecting train to the west coast in Chicago,
Amtrak being responsible for 50 people missing the connection, offered us
either a free night’s stay in a Chicago hotel and catch the train tomorrow or
fly people ahead to catch the train in Denver. A night in a posh hotel and a
night out with a delectable Irish girl was undoubtedly my preference !.
We went out for a meal and drinks to the Hard Rock Cafe, by
pure chance, they were celebrating BB King’s birthday so party atmosphere was
enjoyed. I got very drunk resulting in the inability to successfully transfer
from my wheelchair to the bed so I collapsed on the floor which is where I
slept, still clothed.
I woke early the next day, with a terrible hangover, somehow
I found the courage to buy some more alcohol for evening consumption required
for sleep assistance, before boarding the train to Glenwood Springs. The
regular occurrence of the previous 2 nights became a reality again, sleeping on
the floor in a drunken daze !.
My new, delectable Irish friend got off the train in Denver,
leaving me to witness the natural splendour of the Colorado Rockies. For the
first time the train arrived on schedule into Glenwood Springs. The hostel had
no wheelchair access but I was getting used to that. During my dinner in Pizza
Hut a had a severe attack of breathlessness or momentary heart failure so the
hostel were called, they came to pick me up and put me to bed. The incident
probably occurred because Glenwood Springs is located at 10,000 feet above sea
level which means that there is less oxygen to breath.
The next day I felt fine so decided to go white water
rafting on the Colorado river, as there had been no rain for the previous
several weeks, the white water was virtually still so the ‘excitement’ and
‘thrill’ of white water rafting became more like rowing a boat around a lake !.
The reason for Glenwood Springs’s name is the natural hot
springs. I visited the biggest, a man-made pool which is naturally heated to
104 degrees – Fahrenheit not centigrade or I would have been boiled alive !.
My dip in the hot springs pool had made me late to get to
the station, but a lifeguard found me a lift across Glenwood. I boarded the
train bound for San Francisco, I slept on the floor again for the fourth time
in five nights.
I arrived in San Francisco having travelled for 73 hours and
travelled 3,379 very long miles.
Once in San Francisco I became irritable and just wanted to
find a bed. The only one available was up a flight of stairs, I had no energy
to find an alternative so I got someone to carry me up so I could get some much
needed sleep.
I spent the flowing day exploring the huge and magnificent
Chinatown, the exquisite food being the highlight. The following day’s taxi
ride to the station became my private sightseeing tour including a drive down
Lombard St, the wiggliest street in the world. I missed the direct Amtrak train
so caught a commuter train to Bakersfield then an Amtrak bus to Santa Barbara.
With 2 months of my 3rd trip to America but my first world
trip gone, My life changed forever, I was no longer what you might term a
“tourist traveller”, I became a lot more relaxed. Alcohol and parties were to
become a regular occurrence and subconsciously I became a lot more relaxed.
I travelled a total of 11,731 miles on Amtrak trains.
10. San Francisco
For the first day in my American Adventure it was a cloudy
and not particularly warm. I did the ‘touristy’ thing and went along the
promenade, looking along all the piers and the harbour area. I also tried
unsuccessfully to ride the famous San Francisco trams up and down the inclines.
After queuing for almost an hour, was told there was no wheelchair
accessibility on the trams. I got the supervisor from across town and had a
huge argument about the wheelchair inaccessibility and the illegality under
American law.
On a detour from the sea front into downtown San Francisco I
got a glimpse at some of the inclines but later found these to be mere mole
hills in a city of Everest’s !,
A new day, to feel a new way. Well, by the end of the day I
would feel exhausted and have severely aching arms. I took the bus to the
opposite end of the tram run, the bus circumnavigate around the base of the
major San Francisco climbs so I had no real conception of the Everest directly
between me and the Hostel. The first block was a hill, the second a steep hill,
the third a mountain, the fourth had to be the mountain’s peak – but no, on it
went, each block steeper and steeper and steeper, it was taking 30 minutes
climb for each block. Many, many people offered to help push me up the
ridiculously steep hills but each time I refused, expressing that it was a
personal goal and I needed to prove to myself that I could do it – and I did !.
But 10 blocks of ridiculous incline skyward meant 10 blocks
of ridiculous decline back to ground level and home-base. The easy part if
walking, but if in a wheelchair a death run !. As I whizzed past moving
bicycles and cars, I realised my gloved hands wouldn’t grip the my speeding
wheels. Crossing several cross junctions while preying for a reprieve in cross
traffic. At other junctions I left 30 foot rubber skid marks behind as I slid
to a halt. This was my experience of San Francisco – exhausted and lucky to be
alive I returned to the hostel !.
11. Bangkok
Being my first solo trip to Thailand, I didn’t quite know
what to expect from Thai peoples attitude to someone travelling in a
wheelchair alone. Previously I had been with Justin and their reaction was one
of utter disbelief, to my surprise, their reaction was not one of
inaction but of natural curiosity but also of wanting to help if or when I
needed. Although at times ‘help’ is definitely not what I got, the intention
was there but not the execution. I even had people in shops offer to to wash my
dirt covered hands. The best description for Thai attitude, and throughout
Asia, is of having no preconceived ideas about people who use a
wheelchair.
An inexplicable question is our desire to eat weird and, not
always wonderful food when in strange countries. We feel the need to sample the
local delicacies, in Thailand not simply rice dishes or noodles cooked with a
new vegetable, but grasshoppers, plain and simple, no sauce – just a bag of
bugs !. Which obviously, stupid me, has to eat – when all I really want is a
hot dog from Seven Eleven.
As they say : When in Rome ………., But this was Bangkok – the
sex capital of the world. So my obligation was to sample some of the infamous
sex shows. On one of my trips to an area known as Pat Pong, I saw something which
certainly wasn’t an everyday occurrence. On my obligatory post-drinking binge
to McDonald’s I saw an elephant queuing to get a McDonald’s. Bangkok is a huge
city which is highly developed, not a Jungle. But I swear, all this fully grown
mammal wanted has his cheeseburgers, and we’re probably not talking a ‘Happy
Meal’ !. Being the generous person I am, I shared my Chicken Sandwich
with him which I don t suppose did much to halt animal starvation !.
A Tuk Tuk, a small, 3 wheeled, motorcycle carriage, type
thing – Not the easiest form of transport for someone with a wheelchair. After
a previous unsuccessful attempt to ‘mount’ one on a previous trip to
Thailand, I wouldn’t let the cheapest mode of transport beat me. So
hailing one to take me the half mile to my favourite drinking haunt, I
decided just to sit on the back seat and hang the wheelchair from the back. The
plan failed miserably, I ended up perching on the floor holding onto the
wheelchair for dear life – But did a tuk tuk defeat me ?, it definitely did
not.!
.
.0
……….
Q and A
Can I start off by asking you how
Friedreich’s ataxia has affected your life over the years.
I was 000first diagnosed with Friedreich's Ataxia at age
8, so my walking got progressively worse throughout my school years. At
the age of 19, as I started university, I had lost the ability to walk. At
the age of 21 I decided to travel the world.
I
wanted to know how you were when you started out on your travels more than 20
years ago. IE has the condition progressed over the years.
At the beginning I choose to travel solo because I would
experience complete freedom of when, where and how to travel. I needed to
travel on a tight budget so would often stay in hostel dormitories rather than
regular hotels. I would travel by any means available, even hitch hiking
on my own, or being towed around the streets of Asia behind a motorbike.
Throughout the years being able to travel solo has became impossible as I
needed help with day to day things because my condition deteriorated.
How were you then, compared to now for
example in what you were able to do. Were you working for example. If so where?
I was first diagnosed with Friedreich's Ataxia at age
8, so my walking got progressively worse throughout my school years. At
the age of 19, as I started university, I had lost the ability to walk. At
the age of 21 I decided to travel the world. I had more control of my body and
my ability to live independently but as the years went by it became harder to
do things on my own or for myself, being able to control my wheelchair was a
big part of me travelling solo and as that decreased with my condition it made
it impossible for me to continue my solo experience.
Was
travelling something you wanted to do because you knew the condition would get
worse, or was it your passion nto see the world etc. Or both?
In the beginning it was not my plan to
travel the world because of my condition and the possible or inevertable
deterioration, I wanted to see the world and meet people from different places
and backgrounds and to share experiences with people, but as I’m looking back
now I’m so glad I was able to do the
things I did and visit the places I did and meet the people I did, because my
deteriorating condition has made It apparent that the two things have worked
together to make my experiences and travel possible. My experiences and my
journey going to amazing places and meeting different people regardless of my
disability is my passion.
how long has the blog been going?
The blog/website has been active for 2-3 years but the
research and documented information ie the travel journal, photos and basic
documentation has been collected for over 25 years.
Do you plan writing a
guide for/book for disabled travellers?
I did a basic version of a travel journal and it is on
amazon , it doesn’t contain my whole life story but it documents some of my
adventures. The book is called globewheeling but you can find all of the
information enclosed in it on globewheeling.com.
How many different countries have you visited in all?
35 countries on 5 continents,
Are your globetrotting days over or do you have further
travel plans? And how do you find your travel?
No I still love to travel and I’d still like to continue my
travels, I find visiting new and old places
inspiring to me and to inspire and encourage others to travel the globe
and experience all there is to experience.
Do you rely on a carer? Friends or family, at home and while
travelling now?
Yes I do require care at home and also family and friends
but I do like to live as independently as possible, when I travel I do need the
assistance of a carer as my deteriorating condition doesn’t allow me to do the
things I was once able to do.
Fund you travel rather
I had to save to accomplish my global travel and prices and
my expenses were less back then, travelling in general is more expensive now
than it was when I accomplished a majority of my global travel.
As I require the assistance
of a carer, the cost of travell00ing is more expensive these days.
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
1. Can you tell us a little about your non-profit project, Globe
Wheeling. What is the main aim of the project?
Wheeling. What is the main aim of the project?
a. my travels started as pleasure only and because i wanted to visit the world then the idea to start the non profit project became a reality, i wanted to educate and inspire people that living with a disability shouldn’t hold you back.
2. I understand you have Friedreich’s Ataxia - did you find you had
many travel challenges to overcome? Did you often have to plan ahead
for your travels?
.a it was always a challenge whilst travelling whether mind, body or the process to be able to travel , the planning wasnt an issue because i like the back packing experience and love to enjoy the country im in and see the place im visitng so the plan would change from day to day.
3. What constraints of travelling did you find the most challenging?
.a in certain countries the accessability for the disabled wasnt avaliable and the understanding of the public was a challenge due to awareness and my abilities for example my hearing loss and understanding a different languages
4. Living on a tight budget must have brought its own challenges. How
did you find the accessibility of accommodation across the globe?
.a as a backpacker and my knowledge form visting places i took the time before hand and made a plan of the steps and places i wanted to visit , although things changed from day to day my budget was never really a problem as travelling as a backpacker your happy to enjoy the country and the surroundings you find yourself in, in certain countries the accessability was a challenge for me but i can be flexible to my surroundings
5. It's quite an achievement 23 years of global travelling! What have
been some of the highlights over the years?
.a inperticular my travels to bangkok i had written a piece about my experience and my travels, there is another piece about my trip to america on globewheeling.com
6. hat advice would you give to anyone with a disability who is
looking to travel solo?
00000
.a GO FOR IT , i have shown that there are no excuses to avoid living out your dreams and fulfilling a life adventure
.a GO FOR IT , i have shown that there are no excuses to avoid living out your dreams and fulfilling a life adventure
7. How can people support your project? Do you think Globe Wheeling
will help to educate people about disability travel?
a. i hope globewheeling will show people the possibilites of a full and active life if you take away the constraints assosiated with having a disabilty, i hope my experience and my knowledge and my love for the world and the people in it will inspire people to create there own experiences. people can email me through globewheeling.combility.
.1. Please
tell us a little bit about yourself and your blog?
a. i am a very
normal person who decided to travel the world after i finished university. I
had no specific plans to make this a 23 year odesiy i just went travelling for
a short experience and what i saw and who i met made me want to return this lasted
for 8 years and i have been travelling ever since. I wanted to keep a travel
journel as i travelled which has recentley been altered into a blog format.
2. What
inspired you to start travelling, was there a particular
moment in time where you
just thought ‘yes, let’s do this’?
a. at first i knew some
people who were enjoying there experience while travelling and i listened to
there stories and admired them so i started to want that experience that
journey and i have never looked back , i visited beautiful places and i have
loved every minuite
3. What has
been your most amazing experience thus far?
a. most of my experiences
have been good on different levels but when i was visiting asia particulary the
phillipense and thailand as my disability wasnt a issue for them and i was made
to feel the same as everyone else that was around me so i was very
comfortable in my surroundings in those two places especially.
4. Has there
ever been a total disaster whilst on your travels? What
happened?
0000000a. i love the
backpacker experience so even tho there has been some complications regarding
the place im in not being able to facilitate for disabled, i dont regard it as
a disater more of a different experience and thats how alot of my travel goes ,
from day to day something changes and i feel thats all part of the fun and the
experience.
5. Whilst on
my travels, I have found that each country has a
completely different attitude towards the disabled, have you found the
completely different attitude towards the disabled, have you found the
same? Which countries do
you find the most positive and why?
a. South east asia
inperticular thailand and the phillipenes is the best place ive visited
as they have no pre conceived conceptions to a disablred person . you are not
in a wheelchair in these countries you are not unable to do anything , i am
disabled but i felt like i wasnt in those countries inperticular.
6. Is there
anywhere that really stands out for you to visit in the
future?
a.places ive been
have changed since i visited them as i went to these places over 10 years
ago , america inperticular i love america and hope to visit more of america and
to re create old memories i had along time ago , the phillipenese and thailand
was an amazing experience for me and i would love to visit those countries
again , im o0pen to visiting new places ive never been before , its all
experience and whether i have visted already or not 00the journey is what i
love.
7. Is there
anything that you wish to plugI
a. i would like to plug
my website globewheeling.com and i hope that i inspire people to try new things
and visit differnet places regardless of a disability or fear , life is for
living0000000000 and to experience different things and set challenges , i hope
my story will encourage people to think out side of the box.
0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000–this
distance is equal to 27 global circuits.
..
about=0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
I love to beindependent,
I love to be free and I love to travel. Being completely unable to walk and
using a wheelchair is the challenge. I was born with Friedreich's ataxia, a
degenerative disease of the nervous system.
I was first diagnosed
with Friedreich's Ataxia at age 8, so my walking got progressively worse
throughout my school years. At the age of 19, as I started university, I
had lost the ability to walk. At the age of 21 I decided to travel the world.
..
My inspiration has always
been based around my deteriorating condition. I have always needed to live my
life to the full because my condition is constantly worsening which means –
what I can do today, will become more difficult in the future.
Always Livin’ life to the
full.
I choose to travel solo
because I would experience complete freedom of when, where and how to travel. I
needed to travel on a tight budget so would often stay in hostel dormitories
rather than regular hotels. I would travel by any means available, even
hitch hiking on my own, or being towed around the streets of Asia behind a
motorbike.
I have Friedreich's
Ataxia is an inherited genetic disease of the central nervous system in which
there is a progressive deterioration of coordination and muscle control.
Friedreich's Ataxia is inherited from both parents,
Initial symptoms include
curvature of the spine (scoliosis) and the ability to walk deteriorates.
Walking becomes more of a
challenge as time progresses. Problems include co-ordination, control and
balance. At some stage a wheelchair will be required. Arm and hand movement
also become uncoordinated and uncontrolled.
I would like it moved to
my hosting on my go daddy account
00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
Friedreich’s Ataxia continues to deteriorate and can cause
cardiac problems, diabetes, vision loss, speech difficulties and hearing problems. Life expectancy is generally shorter, although some
people can live into their 60s or beyond. As with many degenerative diseases of
the nervous system, there is currently no cure or effective treatment for Friedreich's ataxia. Clinical
research and drug therapies continue.
0
I took my first ever
flight to the USA to fulfill a dream. I decided that my life had just begun and
knew there was a world of opportunities and experiences for me to discover.
Love the life you live –
Live the life you love
Travel journal =
[20.000 words]
Media interest
the front-page
article reads :
Pattaya resident Richard Farrant is a 27-year-old native of
England who enjoys doing adventurous outdoor activities such as travelling
around the world, scuba diving, skydiving and bungee jumping. In this he is
like many other young men.
However, what makes Mr. Richard unique is that he
is completely unable to walk. He is afflicted with Friedreichs0 ataxia, a
degenerative disease of the nervo2540us system akin to multiple sclerosis.
The disease, which has no cure, causes increasing problems
with everything involving coordination, physical strength, control of the arms
and legs, balance and speech deterioration. He was first diagnosed with the
disease at age 10 and by age 19, was forced to use a wheelchair.
However, unlike people with less spirit who might think
their life was over, Mr. Richard realized that his life had really only just
begun and there was a planet of opportunities and challenges out there.
After graduating from De Montfort University with a degree
in business, Mr. Richard, at age twenty, decided to go out into the world –
literally. But what was planned as a brief foray in 1996 actually turned into a
seven-year odyssey in which he visited and revisited some 20 countries,
starting in the US and ending in Thailand. All in a wheelchair.
Richard says: “I have travelled as far, if not further, in
my mind as in my body. I have done things and been to places that many people
only dream about. Travel has taught me so much about this precious life. In
many respects I have lived a fantasy life, a life of madness for seven amazing
years.”
As he rolled from place to place across the globe, Mr.
Richard usually stayed in hostels, venues which are not only cheaper than fancy
hotels, but which give greater insight into the way life really is in the host
countries. He made a few trips to Thailand, before deciding to settle down in
the Kingdom two and a half years ago.
“On my first solo trip to Thailand,” he notes, “I didn’t
know quite what to expect from Thai people’s attitude to someone travelling in
a wheelchair alone. To my surprise, their reaction was not one of inaction, but
of natural curiosity, if or when I needed it. Although at times, ‘help’ was
definitely not what I got, the intention was there, but not the execution. I
even had people in shops offer to wash my dirt-covered hands. The best
description for the Thai attitude – and that throughout Asia – is of having no
preconceived ideas about people who use a wheelchair”
Incidentally, Mr. Farrant uses a simple, (delete
old-fashioned) manually-powered wheelchair instead of the more up-to-date
motorized versions with lots of electronic accessories. He does so because the
infrastructure in Thailand is not generally wheelchair-friendly. The roads are
uneven and there are very few ramps and lifts for handicapped people as there
are in western cities. In addition, motorised wheelchairs are extremely heavy,
which makes it very hard to lift them up and down curbs or steps.
Among Mr. Farrant’s other adventures in Thailand was his
encounter with a tuk-tuk in Bangkok, which he …….says “is not the easiest form
of transport for someone with a wheelchair. After a previous unsuccessful
attempt to ‘mount’ one, I wouldn’t let the cheapest mode of transport beat me.
So, hailing one to take me the half-mile to my favourite drinking haunt, I
decided just to sit on the back seat and hang the wheelchair from the back. The
plan failed miserably. I ended up perching on the floor, holding onto the
wheelchair for dear life. But did a tuk-tuk defeat me? It definitely did not!”
But Mr. Farrant wanted more experiences out of life than
being a globe-trotting budget tourist. He decided to go in for adventurous –
and risky – sports in the mid 1990s in Canada, Australia and New Zealand. He
learned to scuba dive and tried sky-diving (in tandem, which he says was not
100% satisfying because he was more of a passenger). Bungee jumping, however,
was a different story and became his passion.
He has made several bungee jumps, but, like a first romance,
one’s first bungee jump is something that stays with you always. He describes
it in loving detail.
“I was in Canada and woke to the prospect of hurling
myself off a bridge that was higher than
……………Dover’s white cliffs. As the shuttle bus pulled up, the
driver jumped out and shouted ‘Right. Who’s jumping today?’ To her surprise I answered
‘Me and my wheelchair’.
“Two hours later we arrived in Nanaimo. As we drove into the
bungee site, I caught my first view of the bridge and valley. The high bridge
and deep valley! My first stop was the cabin where I was weighed and briefed on
the jump before I made my way towards the bridge.
“My final problem was still to be encountered – four flights
of stairs. Stairs and wheelchairs don’t mix, so climbing a stair at a time on
my butt was the only option. After thirty minutes climbing time and a sore rear
end, I reached the summit, the bungee platform.
“From the platform, I looked down with only one intention:
to descend much quicker than my ascent. I was up there being attached to my
harness – I could not do it the normal way of having the cord attached to the
ankles – and being watched by a group that dared not jump themselves, but
appeared to get pleasure from watching other terrified jumpers.
“I launched myself on the count of three. My only comforting
thought was that I was attached to the bridge, therefore it would be safe.
Plummeting down the valley was exciting, invigorating, exhilarating,
stimulating, but most of all it felt like life should!
“When the bouncing had ended and I had done my impression of
Spiderman, I dangled from my cord much like a real spider would. I then was
lowered to the security of my wheelchair, where, not only did I feel physically
safe, but mentally satisfied as well.” Richard has since made six more jumps
and has never tired of the “ground rush” as he plummets.
Very few human beings have done enough at 27 to merit
writing an autobiography. But knowing Mr. Richard and his love of life and
excitement and adventure, My Mad Life will probably only be the first volume of
his autobiography.
Pattaya People 2001
Disabled Richard Farrant has spent the last six years
proving his wheelchair in no obstacle to his ambitions of travelling the globe.
Since 1996, the 27-year-old has visited more than 100 cities
in 20 countries, including Thailand 19 times. Mr. Farrant has used a wheelchair
since he was 18 when a degenerative condition called Friedreichs Ataxia left
him unable to walk. On leaving De Montfort University, however, he decided the
nine-to-five grind was not for him and set off for America. From there he
has ` travelled to Mexico,
Canada, the Far East, South East Asia, Central Asia,
New Zealand and much of Europe. He has been to Australia six times and
America ten times.
Mr. Farrant said: “I can’t stand it when people, especially
people in wheelchairs, ‘whinge’ about getting access to places. I’ve proved
there are no barriers.”
“From the age of 10 until about 18 I never went out never
had any friends, never went drinking or anything like that, so I saved all my
money,” he said. “I had enough to pretty much buy what I wanted, but I decided
that I wanted to see the world.
During his travels, he has bungee jumped in his chair four
times, jumped out of aeroplanes and scuba-dived.
Richard, a former pupil at Beauchamp College said: “I like
Asia and Thailand the best because they just don’t see my disability as an
issue.
“I’ve been dragged through the streets of Bangkok holding
onto a motorcycle”. “I have done things and been to places that many people
only dream about”. “Travel has taught me so much about life and that we should all
love to life”
“My philosophy has always been, the more we experience and
the greater we are challenged then the more we can achieve success and the more
we can enjoy our lives.”
Richard’s breaking down the barriers – Leicester Mercury –
27th December
“On his travels he has done bungee jumps, skydiving and
scuba diving and because he is unable to walk, everyday travel is still an
adventure for him.
At the age of 10, he was diagnosed with Friedreich’s ataxia,
a degenerative disease of the nervous system similar to multiple sclerosis. He
has been in a wheelchair since he was 19.
The condition is increasingly affecting his co-ordination,
physical strength, balance and speech, but he is determined to live life to the
full.
He said: “People with less spirit might think their life was
over, but I felt that my life had really only just begun and there was a planet
of opportunities and challenges out there.
“I have done things and been to places that many people only
dream about. Travel has taught me so much about this life.”
Because of his disease, Richard had a quiet youth and
between the ages of 10 and 18 he never went out with friends and saved all his
money, which he eventually used for travel.
He said: “I can’t stand it when people, especially people in
wheelchairs, whinge about getting access to places. I’ve proved there are no
barriers.”
Richard’s favourite countries are Thailand and the
Philippines, where he finds few preconceptions about people in wheelchairs.
Ataxia UK’s chief executive, Sue Millman, said: “People with
ataxia achieve extraordinary things despite the fact that disability access is
often so poor.
“It is amazing to see the way so many people are determined
not to let the condition limit their experience of life, despite the additional
hurdles that they have to overcome.
“Ataxia UK has invested over £2 million in ataxia research
over the past five years. We are seeing some promising results and are getting
closer to trialling drugs that may help slow the damage ataxia causes to the
nervous system.”
Leicester Mercury
Contact=
email: rjf100@yahoo.com
https://www.facebook.com/rfarrant
Sponsorship =
You can support my
'Travelling the world - unable to walk' project.
Sponsor me and my future
travel with financial contributions, provide flights, accommodation or
other travel essentials
I will need to travel
with my carer who will provide the complete physical assistance which is now
required.
Are you able to support
or provide flights, transport, accommodation (either hotel accommodation or a
spare room for me to stay, tours or trips, travel essentials0 or anything else
that you think I may need for my future travel.
Companies and products
shall be promoted through visual awareness, this will be a form of advertising
through huge media interest of a highly inspirational traveller.
Wheelchair wheel spoke
guards shall be used as a visual advert as I travel