Recently in Travel Category

I’ve got wanderlust and would love to see a bit more of the world. But if I go to Spain, Italy, or Greece (to name a few tempting possibilities), I’d much prefer to eat where the locals eat, stay where they stay, etc. That’s a huge challenge because touristy areas are much more likely to be wheelchair accessible, and older cities are bound to be less accessible no matter what.

So I need ideas! Does anyone know of locally based resources for world travelers with disabilities? I’m not sure if such things exist, but picture this: A travel Web site for people with disabilities by people with disabilities that offers helpful hits on how to navigate every major city in the world in a wheelchair. I think it makes sense to focus on cities because--let’s face it--no one in their right mind is going to want to push a wheelchair through the Alps.

Sometimes there are a few references to accessibility in regular travel guides, but I rarely find the answers I need. Is there something better out there? If not, let’s start something.

Every good road trip involves some sort of competition. Whether it’s license plate bingo or “punch buggy,” playing car games is essential. And apparently, getting a wheelchair in and out of a car as quickly as possible fits the bill.

This game never gets old. As soon as my friends in high school learned to drive, they started to strategize about the fastest way to get my wheelchair in and out of the trunk. To this day, Angie and Laura discuss who is responsible for breaking down different parts of my chair.

So I was not at all surprised when I noticed T and S eyeing my wheels as we headed toward our rental car during our recent trip to Door County.

“If we fold down the push handles now, it will improve our time,” said S.

T nodded, sizing up the situation.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll grab the chair as soon as she stands up, and while I’m pulling it back, you take off the cushion.”

This cutthroat process got so brutal that my Wisconsin “pit crew” came home with self-inflicted bruises and sore muscles. But they say it was worth it. Because they “got game.”

Laura, Angie, you hear that smack talk?

I’m so amused!

The girls and I road tripped to Door County Wisconsin last weekend to enjoy the fall colors, see cows, and eat cherry pie. Turns out that Door County is not only THE place to go for cherry bliss, but it’s also surprisingly accessible.

Accessible accommodations and activities are detailed on the Door County Web site and are easily searchable, which makes trip planning a cinch. And the access promised is delivered.

The Feathered Star Bed and Breakfast, for example, is barrier free, which means that the whole place is accessible. All six guest rooms are on the main floor and are well laid out. The wheel-in showers don’t leave an inch deep puddle on the bathroom floor when you turn the water on, although they aren’t totally leak free. The rooms that have bathtubs instead of showers have built in shower seats. And all of the rooms are big enough to wheel around easily without sacrificing the quaintness one would expect from a B&B. Dogs are allowed, and service dogs stay for free.

The innkeeper, an occupational therapist who has personal experience with disability, has made a real effort here, and it’s fantastic! So nice to see.

I only have one accessibility related suggestion—add full-length mirrors on the back of the bathroom doors.

Some might say it’s handy to have a knack for gambling in Las Vegas. But I say it’s even handier to be able to ride escalators in a wheelchair.

It’s nearly impossible these days to cross the street on the street-level along the strip. Instead, a network of bridges connects the hotels above street-level. I’m sure this system keeps revelers from haphazardly staggering into oncoming traffic and safely steers them right into the casinos. But finding elevator access to each bridge can be a bit of a maze, and the elevators are really hot and slow.

That’s where riding up escalators comes in! If you’re in a manual chair, simply grab on to the moving rail on each side, and let the escalator pull you into place. Make sure you have a good grip, and then hang on for the ride. Going down an escalator involves the same process, but you have to go down backwards.

I don’t have to put disclaimers on this entry, do I? Like don’t try this at home? Or always make sure a friend stands behind you? Because you are all responsible people, right? Maybe I’ll just fall back on a cliché and say, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

As Tammy and I joined the throng of tourists crawling the Las Vegas strip one night last week, we got separated. That’s because T’s camera is a natural extension of her hand, and when something strikes her, she lags behind to capture it. I usually push ahead, and she catches up with me.

I was crossing the street when someone started to push me. I automatically took my hands off my wheels, relinquishing control, but only for a second. Because almost immediately I realized that it was a stranger who was pushing me around.

Before I could twist in my seat to double check, I heard T descend.

“HEY!” she said, glaring down at the little Chinese man gripping my handlebars. “Let go of her. NOW!”

My pusher gave her a trembling look, let me go, and scurried ahead of us, discussing the situation in a harried, high-pitched tone with his travel companions.

“I think he’s scared of me,” T said, as he glanced warily over his shoulder at us and walked a little faster.

I smirked.

“I think he should be.”

“You want a push?” she asked.

“No, I’m good. Thanks.”

The lesson here? Never come up behind a person in a wheelchair and start to push them without asking their permission. It can be scary to have a stranger I can’t see take control, even if they’re just trying to help. My wheelchair is an extension of my body, so giving me a shove without asking first is essentially the same thing as randomly taking T’s camera out of her hands and snapping a few shots of your own because it sounds like a good idea. Something tells me she wouldn’t like that.

Three Cabs
Originally uploaded by Zesmerelda

I’m back in Chicago after a simply spectacular trip to New York City. Here are some of my observations about accessibility:

• The Greyline double decker buses, which leave primarily from Times Square but stop all over the city, are wheelchair accessible. The buses have fold-out ramps and wheelchair spots on the first level. The stairs to the upper level are not overly steep and are equipped with nice handrails. If you can make the climb it is well worth the effort. For the most part, the Greyline staff is very accommodating if a little pushy with their sales pitch and completely oblivious at times. One of our tour guides completely ignored me when I got on the bus, and he missed my trek upstairs. So when T and I made our exit in the East Village, he was surprised that I “was the one in the wheelchair.” He said: “You don’t look like a girl who uses a wheelchair.” Humm. What exactly does that mean? I’m still baffled.

• SoHo wasn’t as inaccessible as T and I remembered. I think that’s because we knew what to expect this time. The killer curbs are still there. It’s just good to know about them in advance.

• New York is old, and that really does make a difference when it comes to things like architecture and curb cuts. The hotel room we had was very workable, but since the building was so old, the bathroom layout wasn’t ideal. Curb cuts are everywhere, but there is no guarantee that they will be on both sides of the street. And curb cuts are not well maintained even in high traffic areas. So it’s a bumpy ride. A very worthwhile one, but bumpy nonetheless.

• I didn’t double check accessibility at any of the restaurants we went to, and the staff at each place bent over backwards to make access as easy as possible. I was impressed. Having said that though, I can’t imagine getting around easily in an electric wheelchair in Manhattan. Spaces are narrow, and accessibility often means a piece of plywood over a flight of stairs.

• Living in New York is expensive, and it would be especially expensive for someone with a disability. I didn’t see one accessible subway station. Cabs would likely be the quickest and most efficient way to get around. It was hard to gauge the bus situation on a holiday weekend. My guess is that for someone with a disability to live comfortably in the city, they’d have to live and work in the same neighborhood, and chances are the more affluent neighborhoods are more accessible. Anybody reading this live in New York? I’d like to hear your take.
  

Tammy and I are going to Manhattan this weekend, and I can’t wait! New York is one of my favorite places to visit, and I enjoy traveling in general.

To prep for the trip, I decided to read this disability blog carnival called “On Holiday,” which is all about traveling. I’m kind of surprised how many of the entries focus on disability-related challenges.

I’ve certainly faced some of the issues mentioned. My wheelchair has been damaged by the airlines, I’ve stayed in inaccessible hotel rooms, and I’ve even been left behind on a tour or two. Not fun. But these snags don’t stop me from traveling. They don’t even dominate my travel experiences. The fact that I travel in a wheelchair takes a back seat to having a great time on the journey.

That’s because I do a number of things to make traveling easier for myself. I always check in at the gate to get early boarding on the airplane, and I keep my wheelchair cushion with me because it would be easy to lose it in the cargo hold. I take direct flights so that I don’t have to worry about my wheels not making it from one plane to the next during a layover. And my friends and I do advance research on accessibility. Not to mention that we take advantage of our surroundings along the way. Did you know that some of the airline folks will let you sit on the bag scale to weigh yourself? Caryn suggested I try that on a trip we took, and we discovered that it’s a great way to weigh-in without having to stand up (if you really want to know how much you weigh).

But out of everything I’ve learned about traveling, I think the key to having a good time involves successfully managing expectations. For me that means several things.

It means I have to talk about what I want out of a trip with the people, or person, I’ll be traveling with before we leave. They need to know what I have in mind, and I need to know what they have in mind. Otherwise, somebody is bound to be disappointed, and accessibility issues are more likely to crop up. We'll have more fun if we’re on the same page.

It also means that to get on the “same page,” I have to be clear and honest about my physical limitations. I try to be very specific about explaining how my disability will affect the things we can and can’t do on a trip by saying things like, “Cobble stones are very hard to push a wheelchair on” or “Because I can’t push my chair through the sand, we can’t really go to the beach.” It’s my responsibility to speak up because my limitations will affect everyone. And if my limits are not okay, then it’s time to plan something else.

Finally, managing expectations means being honest with myself. This can be tough, but it is extremely important. There are some things I just can’t do or participate in. But that doesn’t mean that my friends and family should miss out on them just because I happen to be there. I have to know what I’m willing give up or not be a part of. I have to be willing to compromise. And my travel buddies have to be willing to compromise too.

So with that, I’ll say that my bags are almost packed, and I’m ready to hit the road! Tammy and I plan to go to SoHo, among many other wonderful New York neighborhoods. I know she is very aware of SoHo’s killer curbs because we’ve talked about our travel plan, and we’ve been there before. I think T’s shoulder still hurts from hoisting me up and down those curbs during our last visit. (Wink, wink!) But she’s game to tackle them again, and so am I. The shopping is so spectacular that it’s worth it! Look out New York!