East of Scotland Branch of Ataxia UK
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East of Scotland Branch of Ataxia UK |
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Some agencies deal only and specifically with disabled clients, though for this type of holiday the price may be a little more. However, when this is not available, or wanted, then book through a travel agent with a good reputation, and more than a few years experience. Sometimes an individual can feel “awkward”, “institutionalised” or even as though they are “a difficult customer” if the holiday has to be tailor-made to suit the disabled person or group. Be honest as you answer the question, “Is this what’s really wanted?”
Continental Buses - Necessitates a two-man lift. Rather inconvenient as there is such hassle to get on and off, that stops with opportunities to get out and about are cut down in length; some tour operators can get a little shirty if they get behind schedule. An independent traveller with a helper may get a helpful lift from a tour rep. and/or a driver. Remember though that this sort of help may be willing but is not trained, so they might need to be shown, be prepared to be very patient and do a lot of explanations.
Were quite high wherever we went in Greece and Cyprus, although most pavements felt wonderfully smooth! Some of the Cypriot pavements were cluttered with displays outside the shops, but when the shopkeepers saw you squeezing past they raced out to move everything.
Usually combine a bath with an overhead shower, if the bathroom has not been specially adapted for a wheelchair, well that can start a panic on its own! Depending on how easy it is for the wheelchair-bound to be transferred one solution is to get them moved onto a chair, stool, or anything else which is suitable (for this you need a little bit of imagination and/or experience, and the gall to ask outright if need be!). From there the actual shower is the easy bit. If the height of the toilet makes transfers difficult, you can always ask to be moved to a better room.
If they are too low, ask someone for, or try to find, bricks to prop them up. Alternately, complain to the management, after all it’s in their interest to ensure that your stay with them is as flawless as possible. Mostly they can change the height, length or breadth of a bed relatively easily. Also, if you give them a good reason, they’ll shift about the furniture for you, let’s say you want some more room to move your wheelchair around in.
The flights to Athens (Greece) and Larnaca (Cyprus) took six and five hours respectively, whilst Porec (Yugoslavia) and Palma (Majorca) took between three-four hours. Like one air Steward said to me, “If you can’t use the toilet, don’t accept the free drink”. I won’t say what I said to him! However, flight times should be considered when booking the holiday. The rest is up to you. When, where, and how long should be carefully thought about, therefore, if you do have bladder problems maybe you could get a shorter flight so you don’t spend so long travelling.
My local airport is Edinburgh, like most UK airports they can be very organised; providing their own “pusher” (usually for security reasons) and with two paramedics to help the wheelchair-bound on/off a plane. Even if you do not need a lift, but require other help, say - to carry luggage (perhaps a blind person or an angina sufferer may need a little extra help), please do not hesitate to inform your travel agent of this because then it’s up to them to contact the airports and request such assistance. Be warned though, when you arrive at a foreign airport they are not always so well organised (in fact, you may even surprise them!) so be prepared to do a lot of explaining about lifting techniques.
Always try to stay in your own wheelchair right up to when you get boarded (even if the airport staff tell you they want to load your chair before they load the rest of the baggage, meanwhile you can sit in one of their wheelchairs). This may prevent you from going to your chosen destination and your wheelchair going elsewhere! It may also stop others from tampering with your wheelchair; preventing a junkie stashing an illegal substance down a hollow tube!
If you need to carry any prescribed medicines, get your doctor to write out a note which says what the dosage is and the quantity you’ve got with you. This note should then be folded up and left inside your passport. Put the medicine in your hand-luggage so that if they want to check it at customs, they don’t have to open your case and drag everything out. That can be embarrassing if they drag out a pair of boxer shorts! Your doctor will know best, so ask. Sometimes, like last time I was in Cyprus, the drugs I’d been prescribed were freely available over the counter but I still needed a note to get them in and out of the country.
You are always responsible for your passport, tickets and travellers cheques, as well as other bits and pieces. If you lose your tickets, amid the hassle, they might not let you fly home! If you lose your travellers cheques, you just won’t have any money! Lose your passport, and you’re not with me!?!! The above 3 things are the most important, anything and everything else is replaceable. Make sure they’re safe at all times. The air tickets usually arrive ten days or so before you depart.
Once you’ve packed your case, tie on the labels supplied with your air tickets and MARK THEM WITH ALL THE CORRECT INFORMATION THEY ASK FOR. This saves you going on a plane to America and your baggage going on a plane to Amsterdam!
Don’t leave camera films, either used or unused, in your suitcase; it’s best to put them in your hand-luggage. This is because the x-ray machines which your case goes through are much stronger than the ones where the passengers go through and they might damage your film. For this reason it’s sometimes best to take a high quality film (such as Kodak) in preference to an ordinary (and often cheaper) brand. The difference being that Kodak is made on slightly thicker film paper, which makes it a little bit stronger and better at putting up with the indignities of x-ray machines.
Until you get to your chosen destination, best keep all of your bits and pieces in your hand luggage, for convenience. Don’t take any sharp objects (scissors, nail clippers etc) as they’ll be confiscated. When you get your tickets, they should tell you about your baggage allowance and exactly what you can take with you on the plane, bag-wise. Another wee tip - it’s safer if you put shoes, shampoo bottles, sun-tan lotions, or indeed any bottle or tube with a screw top (including toothpaste) inside a polythene bag. That keeps everything clean in case of spillage.
Pressurised canisters, deodorants, hairsprays, hair/body mousses, are not allowed on most airplanes. I am unsure about lighters, but I know they do not like lighter fuel. Leave them at home if you can, try to substitute them with things like stick or roll-on, anti-perspirants and hair gels. Take a travel adapter plug, you never know when it may useful. The Hotel will supply towels, but there’s no harm in taking a beach towel if you want. Besides which, if you buy something breakable, a towel can be great for wrapping it safely. (Owing to its bulk it can sometimes be difficult to pack though.)
Try to keep your clothes as light as possible, but remember a cardigan or jumper, although it’s warm during the day it can be chilly at night. Also, keep warm when travelling because it’s when you fly from here to there and back, you can catch colds with the sudden temperature change. It can be useful to take some plastic coat hangers with you because you usually get six wire hangers between two people. The plastic ones are sturdy, can be used to hang skirts or trousers too (they have two wee hooks on them), and they will not show up on the x-rays at customs.
Don’t go with any pre-set ideas about how trustworthy everyone is over there. Wait till you get there then use your own sense of judgement for that, but even if they do work out to be friendly and trusting don’t take any unnecessary gambles with your valuables. If your suitcase has keys, for any sake do not leave them at home. Sometimes it helps you when you are packing to come home if you have already made a list of everything you originally packed so that you can check what you pack against this list of what you brought with you.
I have assumed that, by now, you know what factor of sun-tan lotion you need for your skin. If your skin is soft when you go out there, a tan seems to go deeper and more easily into your skin. Also, your skin does not seem to peel as much and so you will not be walking about like a head-and-shoulders advert which has gone wrong!
Likewise, you may already know this, but I’ll say it anyway. The sun dries out your hair, to an extent where it can sometimes feel like straw. It’s better if you take a conditioner which has been formulated for dry hair, even if your hair isn’t normally dry. Prevention is better than cure. Take a small can-opener with you. It is useful for some ‘cans’ of fruit juice as well as bottles of beer!
When you take any jewellery, try not to take anything valuable, even sentiment-wise. Just in case, it goes for a walk; there is no point in breaking your heart because your gold & diamond cuff-links have been nicked! Having said that, all Hotels have a safe and for an exchange of money (!) they will lock your valuables away for you. Sometimes it can be cheaper to buy stamps, and to exchange travellers cheques, in a local P.O. or Bank, as if a Hotel provides either or both, services they charge a slightly higher commission price.
Always take your passport when you go to cash travellers cheques. They may not always ask, but if they do, a passport is the best kind of ID you can give. When you go to cash a travellers cheque they almost invariably take so much commission off you, regardless of who cashes it. It’s usually 25p in every £50, or some other silly something. Do not worry about it, you get a receipt when you cash them and so you will always know exactly how much it is. This “commission” is just what they take as fees for handling the money. You may be told to keep all these receipts.
Some travel agents do travellers cheques commission-free. This means that when the cheques are made up, usually a bank will charge you a few pounds for this honour. However, if you booked with them they will give you travellers cheques commission-free. By the way, get travellers cheques at £10 a time because if they are stolen it seems to be more difficult for a thief to forge signatures on a lot of little cheques.
Duty Free shops at most UK airports will only accept ENGLISH money, but you might get Scottish money as change! There is sometimes a wee bit of confusion about this. If you are told that they only accept English money, make sure that the only thing you give them is ENGLISH money. As whether or not they’ll take Scottish is entirely individual and varies accordingly.
Although most hotel water is drinkable (well, I’m still alive!); best to keep bottled water in the room. Even when tablets have been added, sometimes the water just does not taste right, maybe you could get some squash/cordial over there to flavour the water! Thinking about “Tummy Upsets”? Take some paracetamol for anything from headaches to mild sunburn.
Get your doctor’s advice on something you can take for sickness and/or diarrhoea, and pack some calamine lotion if you are afraid of burning. Regarding fruit. Be careful if you eat the skin, as well as the fruit, i.e. apples, grapes, etc.. You never know what’s been crawling on it! Or what’s been sprayed on it! Unless you can peel it, or wash it, think twice about eating it. Having said all that, see your doctor to check that nothing is illegal.
And just in case, take something for a period as even “The best- laid plans o’ mice an’ men, gang aft agley”! (Robert Burns: ‘To a Mouse’) (I got caught unsuspecting in Cyprus and it’s bloody embarrassing to ask for sanitary towels or tampons when you’re reduced to a mixture of “pigeon English” and sign language!).
(September-October 1984)
Definitely not recommended. Structural faults included, between twelve and eighteen steps at the main entrance, the ground floor was situated one floor below the reception at the main entrance, the one lift was very cramped (space only for one wheelchair and one, very thin, person standing), the floors were marble (easy to clean and slip on! beautiful to look at, and typically Greek), and the restaurant was one floor below the reception, or, if you went through part of the garden to try the theory of avoiding the steps.
Just to add to your confusion/frustration there was, yet another, flight of stairs leading up to the restaurant! Incidentally, you could JUST get a wheelchair in the bathrooms, after a struggle!
N.B. - My only complaint was with the Hotel. Everyone was friendly and helpful. (With the notable exception of the representative who was supposed to be responsible for our party due to his obvious embarrassment by our presence. Although to be fair to the poor chap, if the firm that we were originally booked with had not gone bust the week before we had been due to fly, and if the company which had taken over had been aware that our party of four in wheelchairs and four helpers, this disaster may not have happened.)
We took taxi tours, as getting in and out of the continental buses was inconvenient, taxis were reasonably inexpensive and we had more stops for toilets, more time to spend sight-seeing, and on spending sprees! Also, because the drivers knew the locality, and were used to knowing what tourists wanted, they took us to some of the best places.
A beautiful hotel, in lovely surroundings. A large park/garden, including a small zoo, is within two minutes walk away. A five minute walk away is the main shopping part of the new town (St. Andrew’s Street), and a five-ten minute car ride away is the old town, full of winding streets, an opportunity to barter and some really good buys. A launderette was just round the corner from the hotel and an assortment of nightclubs within easy walking/driving distance.
The hotel itself is jam-packed with antiquities, curios, strange ornate plants, and exquisitely decorated with a slightly old-style; on entry you had the feeling of going back in time, to a different culture. You almost expected to see some of Richard the Lionheart’s fellow crusaders enjoying Brandy Sours in the bar!
The room was of a good size and so was the bathroom, despite the door being on the knuckle-scrapingly narrow side! There was one entrance step, and three more leading from the reception to the two lifts, both of these sets of steps were ramped. The latter being somewhat steep, but someone from the hotel staff would always be quite willing to help shove. There was another half dozen steps down to the pool, this time there was no ramp but again, there was always a member of staff on hand to help with a lift. The Cypriot people were so genuinely friendly and willing, it was difficult to imagine the lengths they would not go to in order to please a tourist. That’s true hospitality.
Cyprus is steeped in history, whether it be Roman, Greek or medieval, and this shows. Castles and Monasteries abound, and Mosaics (large ones which were once floors of Palaces etc.), tombs, archaeological digs and relics are everywhere. I shall add here that had it not been for the kindly helpfulness shown to us by a local fisherman, me and my helper would not have seen even half the sites of interest which Paphos has to offer; not just because most of these places were off the main road and only known to tour guides and locals, but also it took more than one helper to cope with the amount of steep hills and steps to get on/off the platform type bridges which criss-crossed over the mosaics.
We were out there during Easter, although it was quite hot and we got magic sun-tans, “there was snow on them there hills”. Meaning, they were skiing on Mount Olympus!
Limassol is in Greek-Cyprus, and is as central as possible. It can be quiet, or lively, depending on what you want. We hired a car and although they drive on the same side as us, watch out for some peculiar habits of local drivers! All hired cars have yellow number plates, this is believed to enable locals to know that the people who drive such cars are probably “lost idiots”!
A day's driving in the Troodos Mountains can be an experience in itself. Tarmac roads can suddenly give way to a dirt track winding through orange groves and vineyards. In the mountains donkeys are kept for transporting grapes down the sides of the mountain to the waiting lorries, their sure-footedness can make them nimble at this, and they can often be seen grazing placidly with a small herd of goats. Many mountain villages are famous for their lace-making, sadly just as many are becoming ghost-towns as their youngsters leave for better opportunities in the cities.
Also, signposts tend to be written in Greek in the mountains while they are in English and Greek on major roads. No matter how good your map is, some minor roads aren’t mapped.
Cyprus was expensive (over £500 each and a somewhat lousy exchange rate), but worth every penny. We booked with CYPRIANA, who were the experts when it comes to holidays in Cyprus. N.B. - This was a 21st birthday present, from me to me, and very likely to never be repeated. (For reasons of cost!)
Well I said that at the time, and although I meant it, 1992 saw myself and a helper return to the “Island of Love”. The hotel had seemingly not changed in my absence; right down to the Thermos jugs with cool fresh water which the maids would leave by the bed each evening when we went down to dinner, they also turned down our beds, making them ready for us to fall into whenever we retired. A gesture which I thought was very homely and friendly. Unfortunately I am unable to tell you if the water was replaced whilst we were at breakfast as we rarely went back to our room before lunch.
When we went it was during September, one of the hottest Septembers that Cyprus had seen for many years; even the local people were complaining of the heat. The first Thursday we were there was Limassol’s second hottest day of that year. Evidence of the present drought was reflected by the low water level of the nearby Kolossi Dam.
We made new friends, and I was warmly remembered by some of the staff; mind you, I suppose the incident with the bar-stool is difficult for some to forget!?!! (this story follows). As we wandered down the main street I was saddened to note that a lot of the more traditional Cypriot shops had been replaced by fast food bars and other typically-tourist shops and restaurants, all boasting to offer “a taste of Cyprus”. Having sampled true and genuine Cypriot hospitality before all I can say is that I hope that this phase of cheap commercialism will not last.
We went at that time of year as it was the time of the Wine Festival! For the next fortnight the Public Park, Zoo and Gardens opposite our hotel played host to numerous orchestras, plays, dancing etc. even although we did not understand the language we enjoyed the atmosphere. In case you wondered about concessions, I was given a ticket so I could get my free glass/bottle of wine, and waved happily through the gates! (A courtesy I graciously accepted.)
Once again we hired a car to see some sights at our own pace, Mount Olympia was again visited and looked very different to the snow-scene of my last trip: We also went to places I had previously missed like the golden frescoes of Kykkos Monastery (although there are a lot of steps so not everywhere is accessible, also, like many other Monasteries in Cyprus, cover-up, or they will not let you enter). The lace-making village of Lefkara was also on our itinerary, but be warned, this sleepy little village, which seems to belong to another era, is situated on the side of a very steep hill, which would have made pushing a wheelchair difficult. We cheated and drove through the village.
We did some more general driving around; exploring some very dry, dusty and barren terrain, which included finding banana plantations in this lunar landscape!
This holiday brought home the importance of knowing your helper and them knowing you, after all, if you can understand each other and work well together, then any problems can not only be worked out as and if they happen, but also be minimised. Both our characters had been sorely mismatched, with the result of a few tears, some name-calling and quite a lot of tense situations.
Therefore before you ask someone to go on holiday with you, as a helper, make sure that you both know what the other person expects from you and it does help if they have a reasonably good natured easy going personality and are not the kind who will take advantage of the situation they are in.
After a lovely evening out with friends we had met there and with whom we shared our hired car with, we arrived back at the hotel, just before the car turned back into a pumpkin!
As my friend, Alison, helped me out of the car and Gavin helpfully got the wheelchair out of the boot his mother called out from the driver’s seat, “I’ll park the car, you tell Mike to keep the bar open.”
With this instruction ringing in our ears the three off us entered the hotel, leaving Margot to park the car. Once inside we headed merrily towards the lounge-bar.
Like many other foreign countries, Cyprus has no official measure for drinks; meaning that the quantity in your glass depends on the generosity of the person who is pouring, and that can vary according to the individual concerned.
Our barman (Mike) had such a generous disposition, he was also good natured enough to ensure that whenever a guest of the hotel wanted a drink, whether it be after dinner, before bed, or any other time, the bar would always be open. Owing to this rather exclusive list of clientele we were guaranteed of a quiet drink in a friendly atmosphere, a refreshing change from some of the riots found in other bars.
The only couple in the lounge left as we arrived; perhaps they felt they would not belong to the approaching young scene, or maybe they were just, quite wisely, going to bed after having had a relaxing drink to unwind at the end of a tiring day. (When you are on holiday a day can be quite exhausting, honest; irrespective of how you choose to spend your time, whether sun-worshipping, day-tripping, or just shopping around.)
As we were now alone in the bar we instantly relaxed, giving Mike Margot’s message as well as ordering the drinks and telling our friend about the meal that we had just enjoyed.
Then Alison pointed at one of the bar-stools, suggested that I could sit on one of them. Theoretically she was right; since they were well supported by a wicker back and sides, anyway she was my physiotherapist too, so she knew what she was taking about. Or so I had assumed!
Therefore, I nodded thoughtfully as I gazed up at the bar-stool and queried, “but how am I supposed to get up there?” (Perhaps some day I will have learned not to ask such stupid questions, but until then...)
No sooner had I asked than Alison and Gavin lifted me on to the bar-stool, as simple as that. Having leaned my elbow on the top of the bar and just cupped my chin in the heel of my hand, as I usually do, I was about to ask Mike why he was sloping diagonally out of sight when I realised, Mike had not been moving, I was though!
Both the bar-stool and myself crashed to the ground; in an instant Alison was by my side anxiously asking if I had hurt anything. I remember replying, “No, I’m fine,” but I have no recollection as to which one of us started to giggle first!
Within a few moments however both of us were literally rolling about the floor in fits of hysterical laughter! Gavin, completely not understanding this reaction, was rushing about with a worried expression on his face, like he was trying to lay an egg! Whilst Mike after seeing for himself that no-one was hurt, and probably having seen similar frolics before, ignored us and went back to polish some glasses behind the bar.
In the midst of all this mayhem, Margot walked in to the bar. She bravely resisted the urge to walk back out and sat at a nearby table, patiently waiting for Alison and myself to stop our hysterics for long enough to ask for help from her and Gavin to pick me up and put me back in the wheelchair.
"Having just returned, I’m writing to tell you about my numerous adventures!
Firstly, Dad decided that we would go away early so we left Scone on Thursday afternoon after I’d had my annual appointment with a neurologist.
We spent the night half-way up a hill outside Aviemore because dad spotted smoke coming out of a caravan wheel just past Newtonmore. The RAC came out and sorted it on Friday morning, then we went on to Inverness.
Margaret, Alan and the boys arrived on Saturday, not in a tent (as they had told us), but with a caravan.
Sunday was a day of rest before we moved up to Brora on Monday.
Then on Tuesday we took a run up to John O’ Groats (I haven’t been there for years).
Dad’s old army pal, who is from Brora, seemed to be on holiday with some of his family. Or we might have stayed a little longer in Brora. (Duncan’s hobby is re-building, then competing with, vintage cars.)
The weather, which had been lovely the day we were in John O’ Groats, broke the next day, so we made our way down towards Inverness, with the intention of stopping a night in Dingwall.
However, owing to the rather extortionate site fee we were quoted, we went west instead! We stopped the night in Claypool. Our intentions were to take Margaret to see granny and grandad’s grave in Aultbea on Thursday, then another day trip to Durness and Cape Wrath on Friday was planned.
Thursday went as planned. However, on Friday Alan phoned the RAC to come and have a look at a noise coming from his front wheel. The car was promptly towed away to a garage in Aultbea!
It turned out to be a lost ball-bearing, Alan was sick with disbelief; this big posh car (German-make) of his had stranded us all in Ullapool because of something as small as a ball-bearing! Of course, it didn’t help him when I innocently remarked, “I thought the Germans made reliable cars?”!
We were stuck up there over the weekend because the garage-man didn’t have any spares for Alan’s type of car, so he had to send an order to Inverness, and they would send the spare up on the next bus which arrived in Ullapool late afternoon/early evening Monday!
Alan couldn’t believe things were that slow. Likewise he didn’t believe everything shut on Sundays, until it happened! In fact, he was lucky to get a Sunday paper, for, up until a few years ago they wouldn’t even sell those on Sunday, Monday yes, but not Sunday.
Other shocks came when we all took the kids down to the pier so they could try some fishing. Two big “Klondykers” were moored at the end. “Are they fishing trawlers?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, quite pleased to know something he didn’t, “you’ll see them tomorrow when they come home, they never fish on Sundays. These two are Klondykers; the fishing boats are about 15-20 feet long”!
The “Klondykers” are big Eastern-block factory ships, they can the fish when the boats bring them in. However, now that there are restrictions on the amount of Herring that can be caught, there aren’t as many in Loch Broom as there once were.
Later that night, Alan and dad went to a pub. Quite an ordinary event eh! But it wasn’t that ordinary for Alan when half a dozen men sat round a table next to him and started talking in Russian!
After an eventful weekend, and Alan getting his car back on Monday night, we left Ullapool on Tuesday and went back to Inverness. (I think Alan was glad to see civilisation again!) Staying in Inverness until we came back home on Thursday, on Wednesday we took a day-trip over to the Isle of Skye.
Coming back from which we were lucky enough to see the Royal Yacht, on her way to Scrabster. We came back across the Kylerhea (the ‘h’ is silent) ferry as the main Kyle of Lochalsh / Kyleakin ferry is very busy and no-one wanted to wait in the queue for a couple of hours.
Well, we’d just got back to the mainland and one of the locals asked us if we were waiting to see Britannia when she passed. We were actually waiting for Margaret & Co. as the ferry could only take 6 cars and we were the last ones on!
Anyway when they came across we all decided to wait and see. She was escorted by a destroyer and it looked quite strange for this beautiful, big cruiser to be shadowed by a destroyer. But then the Queen, the Duke, Andy, Fergie and Baby Bea were all on board.
But the beds in the caravan created lawldy with my back, and I was glad to be back. Never again! Well not for a while anyway!?!!”
A large, ideally equipped hotel set in a holiday village in the green Plava Laguna. The hotel had two wings, one of which had two ground-floor rooms which had been adapted for wheelchairs. Although there were no hand-rails in the bathroom, they did have sliding doors and seemed to have adequate space for most disabled people to move in.
Beware of the bath; despite having rails, the sides are quite high. In this wing, everywhere there are steps there is an alternative route via a ramp. All the floors are tiled, which may make it a little slippy underfoot.
We booked through Yugotours, and were very well looked after by an exceedingly helpful representative. Although most of the excursions had steps, which meant they were out of bounds for me, many of the coastal villages such as Porec and Novigrad were flat and suitable.
We found a lot of clothes shops in Porec and stalls and portrait artists down by the harbour. Whilst in Novigrad, there were many jewellers selling beautiful, and very individual, filigree silver, and some old-fashioned Victorian style silver jewellery. Both places had narrow streets and Venetian-style shuttered houses. It was extremely nice to wander around all the small cafes etc.
The hotel itself was quite quiet and relaxed, although if you wanted lively entertainment that could be found at the disco and/or cabaret/bar in the nearby centre. In fact you could also find a restaurant, reception area, tourist agency, exchange office, supermarket, taverna, souvenir shop/newsagent, jeweller, even a kiosk selling T-shirts.
The facilities in the hotel included a taverna, souvenir shop, restaurant, reception area (where taxis could be booked for you), tourist agency, exchange office, hairdresser, launderette, tennis, aperitif bar, and telephones.
So, what now follows is the truth about Yugoslavia.
I didn’t have such an enjoyable time in Yugoslavia as my postcards may have hinted. The reason being the company, or rather lack of it. One good thing may have emerged, I now have enough experience to write a psychological novel! Despite all the trouble my helper had caused with her mum and dad, the police and social work, no-one (especially me) thought she would do what she did.
It went reasonably well until a group arrived; it consisted of five people in wheelchairs and five helpers. She latched herself onto one of the male helpers, and followed him like a dog chases after a bitch in heat. I thought she was behaving like a pathetic first year (all sheep’s eyes etc.), it got to the stage that I hardly ever saw her. I would choose not to go out with her at night because she was trying to pair me off with the disabled man whose helper she fancied. I hate being used just for convenience.
And, I felt sorry for him, and not because he was more disabled either, but he was a nice, quiet, gentle type of person and although he seemed to enjoy my company, like me he was embarrassed at being flung together for want of there being nothing else to do.
On the last night we were meant to be going to a village party, but my helper did not want to go because she kept saying that it was to be her last night with the other helper and she wanted to go to a disco with him instead.
Now she worked it so we never even got on the bus to start with. She tried to have us all believe that it was a terrible accident, for which she was not responsible. I do not know how many of the others she fooled but she couldn’t pull the wool over my eyes that easily. So, she went off to the disco and I stayed up, supposedly to phone a gentle-man (?) friend that I had left back home. (I do not know what the full story about him was, but he served the purpose of being the reason why I could not be paired off!)
The truth was that I was afraid to go to bed that night in case my opposite-half got chucked into bed with me when I fell asleep. It might be hard for you to believe, but knowing my helper as well as I did, it was horribly possible.
You see, as we had been getting ready to go out that night, she had matter-of-factly asked me to sleep with the disabled guy so that she could be alone with her lover for the last night, her excuse was that it was difficult to make love to someone when someone else was snoring soundly beside her! (I had better explain that my helper had been sleeping out for about a week, supposedly sharing a bed with, and sleeping between, both men.)
It’s a tribute to my long-suffering temperament that I did not floor her then and there, but I have handled bigger and better than her and I was quite sure that a little **** like her wasn’t going to get the better of me. So I counted to ten, then just said, “No”. To which she replied, “I was only joking”.
I resisted an urge to be sarcastic, and again counted to ten. By this time, I think she understood that she was skating on wafer thin ice because she said, “I wouldn’t do something like that to you”. Well, there was no holding back there for I looked her in the eye, and in a slow, steady voice, which reminded me of the way I growled threats to the pony when he was playing me up, I replied, “Well if you did I’d be the last f****** person you’d do it to”.
Later on that night though a comment had been thrown out, a remark which I had taken to be in the passing. The disabled bloke said, “You look very pretty tonight.” Before I could utter the customary “thank-you”, my helper chimed in, “Who does?” I am unable to be sure, maybe it was diplomacy on the part of my opposite-number when he answered, “You both do”. Almost too quickly, my helper, retorted, “No. You can’t sleep with Morag”. Again I counted to ten; then was neither the time nor place for an argument.
Of course, when she did put me safely (?) in bed, she stayed out again that night, and, as usual, locked the door when she left. I think the idea behind her locking the door at night was to stop anyone walking in in the morning and finding her bed unslept in. That would mean too many questions for her too cope with. (She was not a very good liar.)
My helper did not really want to come home on Saturday either but by that time my patience was teetering on the verge of destruction, so I finished packing my case, and asked one of the others in the party to take it, and me, up to the reception to make sure I got the bus to the airport. My helper had been told the times of departure, it was entirely up to her.
She eventually came though – on Saturday morning, because she had locked the door, I couldn’t say my farewells to some of the group members who were going on a trip that day and who called at the door before they left. When she had come back to help get me up and to the toilet, she was full of talk about going for breakfast, closing up the suitcases, then taking them down to the men’s room so that they could look after them. Now there was only about ten minutes of breakfast left, we had to be all packed and in reception for about half past eleven, and also, I knew that once I got stuck with the other three, I would never get my helper away from them.
So, I told her that if she wanted breakfast, to go and get it, I’d finish my case. As I was turning around she was disappearing out the door saying she would be back in fifteen minutes.
I finished up with the case and stacked everything in a neat pile. Three-quarters-of-an-hour later, when my helper had still not returned , I went to look for someone, and found the father of one of the other wheelchair-bound men. I was not going to go down to the men’s room and bring her back, which is what she wanted me to do; she knew the times as well as I did.
I nearly went home early on the Tuesday, but the thought of the cost put me off. (Our representative told me that it would cost £200+, she did not seem to think I would get the insurance to pay for it. If I had got a flight to London, I would have stayed with my older sister.
In August of 1990 my mum and I went on holiday to Yugoslavia, again. I longed to explore, to see and do what I’d missed out on during my previous visit. The fortnight was from the 11th - 25th, and cost £790. As I had been there before, we told our Pickfords travel agent that we would need to have either room 226 or 227, as these are the only two out of the 700-odd which are suitable for wheelchair-bound guests.
This is the story of that holiday - Well, if the story of last year’s fiasco made good reading, be prepared for this story to hit the bestseller list!!
When we arrived in the hotel it was midnight, so our complaints had to wait until the next morning (Sunday), when we saw our representative just before the “Welcome Meeting”.
The hotel room was not one of the suitable ones which we had asked for when we booked in January. Instead we were shunted into a smaller room at the side of the hotel, where I could not get my wheelchair through the door to the toilet.
Which meant that when I needed to go to the loo, after all, I am only human too, Mum had to more or less, manhandle me, by half-lifting and half-dragging me out of the wheelchair, which was stuck at the door, over to the toilet. Whilst doing that, we were continually bruised from bumping against the door handle and an awkward little door edge which was every bit as unavoidable in the tight circumstances.
So next day we complained to our Yugotours representative (after all, they do say in a paragraph on a page at the back of their brochure, that if you have any complaints, to tell their representative so that Yugotours have an opportunity to put the problem right).
Her story was that a German gentleman had spent a week up three flights of stairs, which he had to be carried up and down. Then, because the other room was vacant (presumably awaiting my occupancy), they put him in it! I would be moved into it when he vacated it on Thursday.
Now, there were even more knocks to both our bodies throughout the day, with the result of a few tears, so when we saw the representative that evening, we told her that if she could not come up with suitable alternative accommodation, she could put us on the first flight home.
She said that she was unable do anything then, but she would see the office in the morning. She had asked us if we would not rather stay, but I said no because I really was finding it difficult to use the toilet, and because I could not get the wheelchair into the bathroom, I was unable to get washed or clean my teeth.
She kept saying to me that she was sorry, and that she understood, but if she had understood then she would not have put us there.
Even on Monday night she was still unable to tell us about the flights home. I got the impression from her attitude that she had not even tried. She did say that Yugotours would pay for our flight home (although I now think that this was a cover-up), and gave us an official complaints form to fill in.
What happened the next day was a cracker! Next morning she told us that her office may have arranged suitable accommodation in Porec. She asked if we could check with the reception for a message which would be left later in the morning.
Later on we did check, and sure enough the message told us to go and have a look at a room in a Porec Hotel which was being made vacant the next morning, if it was suitable they would move us in.
So, with a ray of hope shinning through the mess and muddle we cashed a £20 travellers cheque and off we went. (There were 20 Dinars to £1, and it cost us 220 Dinars to get into Porec, and 180 to return.)
When we got to the hotel, the receptionist did not have a clue about what we were talking about; all his rooms had guests in them, besides which, we would need a double room and the first double room he had would not be free until the 19th (which was the following weekend).
(We eventually got the money back for the wasted trip, but we had to wait over a week for it.)
Meanwhile the story about the German had changed: a German had come in off the road, and because he too was in a wheelchair, and, again, because the other room was vacant (presumably awaiting my occupancy), they put him in it! I would be moved into it when he vacated it on Thursday.
(In actual fact I got the room next door which was vacated by an English couple, the wife of which had MS and was in a wheelchair. They had booked through Thomsons, and when they left on Thursday, I was moved in. The German moved out at the weekend.)
However, back to Tuesday. In the evening when we saw the representative, yet another story had altered its structure; she told us that Yugotours would only pay for us to go to a London airport, after that it would be up to us to get home at our own expense. As we were still reeling from this blow, she then hit us again. This time she said that before Yugotours would fly us back, we had to sign a document which said we were flying back of our own free will, and that, after our return we would make no further claim on Yugotours. As my oldest sister later said, this was no more than blackmail!
Now mum and I got to thinking, we’d already decided to involve a lawyer on our return and the first thing they would ask is, do you have proof, do you have witnesses? So, to this end we took photos of the doors with the wheelchair in the picture, to prove the narrowness. Found two couples to act as independent witnesses (should this saga ever reach the courts) to witness the difficulty we had getting to and from the loo, and, we also have a lot of paperwork that will make Yugotours look very amateur indeed.
Mum managed to get my oldest sister on the phone and after telling her the whole sorry story she told us not to sign anything and that she would make some calls tomorrow then phone us back before lunchtime.
So, all Wednesday morning we sat about fifteen-twenty feet away from the reception desk waiting on this call, having first given our name to the receptionist and told him that we were waiting for a call.
Several times the phone would ring, he would pick it up and say “Hotel Tamaris” in English, then something in his own language, and then bang down the receiver.
Mum and I waited until half past twelve, then we rang Edith. Apparently she had rung the Hotel, and got through, four times, before being hung up on. With the result she had phoned back to Yugotours (in Glasgow) and told them exactly what she thought of the “imbecile” behind the reception.
They told her that mum and I would get a free call to the UK that night and that they would get a message to our representative. In reality, they did not tell our representative because she had to check with her office before she paid for the phone call.
Anyway Edith had been in touch with ABTA, Pickfords (the people we booked with), Yugotours (in both Glasgow and London), and the Citizens Advice Bureau.
Taking everything into account the advice we were given was; if we were given suitable alternative accommodation we were obliged to take it and end the holiday. Keep everything written, sign nothing, then get a good lawyer when we came home.
Which is what we did.
On the morning we left, I asked the representative to give me the name of her superior, who I had repeatedly asked to see (without success), and the address of her Porec office.
She could not give me that information. (Although it would probably have been a case of ‘she did not want too’!)
To add to our troubles, we did not know where Dad was because he had gone fishing somewhere “up North”! Therefore, Edith had had to get in touch with a local radio station in Inverness to get their help to track down the car!
She kept saying we were there during their peak season and such block bookings could not be helped. BUT THAT IS NO EXCUSE FOR TREATING A PRE-BOOKED DISABLED CUSTOMER LIKE A PARCEL.
Now, our solicitor told us that we could lose this case on its legal merits Leaving me wondering, is there nothing in our supposedly Great British legal system that will protect disabled holidaymakers from this type of abuse?
Despite this setback the fortnight was not all doom and gloom; we managed to explore the coast and countryside of the Istrian peninsula quite well considering.
It was a beautifully hot sunny day when we sailed into the pine-clad Lim Fjord as we returned from Rovinj. Our boat was a little larger than the “Vital Spark” of Para-Handy fame! (Anyone who may have read the book or seen the TV series will know exactly what I mean.) Some of the lifts with which the deck-hands got me on and off this boat left me closing my eyes in silent prayer, although the bit in the middle was fantastic, Mum carried the bruises with her until we went home!
I was unable to visit the hill-top Church of St. Euphemy because of the flights of steps up to get inside this monument which dominates the island town. Well those steps may have proved a problem, but not so the next ones, which we found whilst on another day trip, this time to see the ancient Amphitheatre of Pula.
Getting inside the building was easy enough, and once inside I was content to marvel at the wholeness and perfection of the architecture so I told Mum to go below the ring to see the area where the gladiators prepared for the fights, weapons were stored and wild animals, such as lions and bears, were caged. (Apparently they were lifted up to make a dramatic entrance into the arena, although sadly time has destroyed the apparatus which did this.)
I had seen between six and eight stone steps leading down to this truly awe-inspiring sight, so I had resigned myself to not being able to go underneath.
Suddenly a male Welsh accent piped up, “Come on lads; she’s come thousands of miles already, we can’t let a few steps stop her now.” Having said that he then organised the men in our party of visitors to lift me and the wheelchair, down the steps - one man at each corner - Cleopatra style!
I do not think he will ever know how grateful we really were; more for his refreshing attitude, especially after all the hassle we had just had from the hotel. Judging from the low and narrow stone passages underground the Roman fighters of olden days could not have been very big! At that time this unique structure was rated sixth in the world, I find myself wondering if this long and bloody war (which, at the time of writing, is still raging) has robbed this part of Istria of one of her oldest treasures.
Other treasures were found at the Euphrasian Basilica, during a sight-seeing tour of Porec, we finished the day by inspecting, then sampling a selection from the wine cellar belonging to the Agricultural High School of Porec, the name may have suggested a certain newness, but these vats have been producing wine for over a hundred years.
I now share something in common with certain members of the Royal family and Lady Thatcher: my portrait was chalked and crayoned by a street artist we found on one of our many jaunts around Lanterna which, because of its flatness, was so accessible for a wheelchair.
A peaceful setting, a small way outside the bustle of the main town. Our rooms were on the ground-floor of a nearby building. Although they were not suitable for a wheelchair-guest, we were assured that that was due to ignorance on the part of the family who owned/ran the Guest House, and it would be a fault which would be rectified!
A five minute drive from the nearest beach (traffic-lights permitting)!
Certainly a very lovely countryside; with gentle, flowing, almost roly-poly hills when compared to the rugged landscapes of North Wales.
As we had a car we did a lot of exploring and, as there was always something to see and/or do, we were never bored. From fishing, visiting Monasteries, castles or churches to a sea-life centre, and miniature railways, Wales had it all!
All too soon though our fortnight was over and we left feeling that there was still a lot we hadn’t seen and done! Someday I will have to re-visit Wales.
N.B. - The public toilets in Wales including those which have the wheelchair symbol, at least all the ones I was in anyway, seem to be designed to a very good national standard.
I flew to Heathrow from Edinburgh on a shuttle flight late one July, because I was staying with friends they picked me up from Heathrow. As I said I was staying with friends, so I can’t really comment on the Hotel!
Brighton itself though has so much to see and do. There’s something for everyone in the family no matter how fussy they are. A great choice of shopping, three piers to walk on, nightclubs, bingo halls, beaches, nudist beaches, theatres, cinemas, parks, pubs, and a dolphinarium.
Water sports are available (for the fit!), and if you detest towns, just a little way inland is the sleepy-England of pre-war days, everywhere you turn the country gambols merrily into small hills, which in turn, melt into more perfectly rounded hills, reminiscent of a pond of up-turned ducks. We were there in time to enjoy some show jumping at Hickstead, home of the famous Derby.
Boredom is one thing you can’t complain of, whether you want an active holiday or a quiet, relaxing one, Brighton can provide it.
N.B. - From what I remember of Brighton, and the places I went to, access for the wheelchair-bound was quite good. I was not stopped from going anywhere because of the wheelchair anyway.
Inverness acts superbly as a “Base Camp” because from Inverness most parts of the Highlands are within short distance and relatively easy access (by car).
We usually stay at the “Bught Caravan Park” which snuggles between the Caledonian Canal and the Ness Islands. During July/August the army holds a mini-tattoo there, and you can usually find the circus in the nearby Bught Park. Also nearby is an ice rink (with regular roller discos) and a bar; the Whin Park, which contains a miniature railway, is a huge play-park with its own boating pond; also a BMX track, trampolining and crazy golf facilities can all be found nearby.
Council-owned, the Bught has a toilet for disabled use, with a key available when you book-in. No advance booking can be taken; room for tents, caravans and awnings; Dogs allowed, if kept on a leash; on-site shop and laundry facilities, for washing at least; walk-in showers; play area for kids.
The town is within a half hour’s meander (via the Ness Islands, if wished). A steep hill lies on the other side of the water, and although some of the “High Street” shops are on this an indoor arcade can be found further into the centre of the town which is more level.
However, if the pusher feels fit then a shopping centre is further up this hill, past the Council building which has a toilet suitable for a wheelchair round the back.. (Do not let anyone fool you into thinking it’s at the bottom of a flight of stairs, once you have been lifted up a flight, something the man in the tourist office tried to make my mother believe! There is an easier way, honest.)
If the pusher gets tired here then you can try some light refreshment in the “MacDonald’s” burger bar. The famous “Eden Court” theatre has a box and concessions for someone in a wheelchair, or at least they did when I was there.
If you grow tired of the tourist attractions in Inverness, then touring the outside sights makes a pleasant alternative, such as Culloden Moor scene of the battle between the Redcoat army and rebelling Scots, a battle which altered Scottish history and shaped our present culture. Things to see include a thatched croft, said to be the last hiding place of some fleeing Scots after the battle until, that is, the Government forces caught up with them. They burnt the cottage, and the men inside. It has now been restored to its original appearance.
Amid the mass graves of each and every Scots clan involved in that battle, ancient battle-cries can almost be heard. The National Trust have cleared the moor so that it now looks as it should have during that era. Many pathways weave around the site (of more than ample width for a wheelchair), allowing the visitor access to see the numerous cairns, and other attractions.
As well as the Visitors’ Centre displaying the history of the struggle, is a restaurant and toilets. I will give the disabled toilet 10/10; plenty of space to move in (my wheelchair is 25 inches wide), adequate guide- rails, even a sink and mirror at my level.
A short distance in another direction is the village of Drumnadrochit. Home of “The Loch Ness Monster Exhibition Centre”, it tells the story surrounding our “Nessie” so the visitor can decide whether she’s fact or fiction. Drumnadrochit also hosts a horse-riding centre, inclusive of ponies which are suitable for the wheelchair reliant to ride.
Take it from me, on the back of one of their ponies the scenery can be quite breath-taking (you will get views of Loch Lochy and the opposite hills that you just cannot see from the window of your bus or car), and it can be enjoyed at your leisure. The last time I rode there I heard a whisper about them going to start horse-driving for the disabled, may be worth asking about.
Fort George, the original home of the now defunct Seaforth Highlanders, is still an army base, but thanks to the National Trust this Fort, surrounded by water on three sides, is open to the public who can stroll round and see how the Base looked, the men dressed (thanks to some brilliantly presented dummies), and lived.
My dad is an ex-Seaforth Highlander, and has said that the Fort looks so much different now than it did in his training day, there now being not so many huts etc. outside the main building. Nevertheless it still looks very impressive with stone walls, of more than a few feet thick, dried-up moats which curve round the only land entrance/exit, swing bridges, and a heavy iron portcullis.
Watch out for the hangman’s bridge, where story goes that many a sentry committed suicide. (Fort George had a hard “make or break” reputation, and when lengthy separation from loved ones and harsh discipline got too much to take, the only way out was an easy one.)
Trips down part of the Caledonian Canal taking in parts of Loch Ness can be arranged from the office of the tour operator (Jacobite Cruises), which is on the banks of the canal less than ten minutes walk away from the Bught Park. (I’ve been on the one which takes you up to Urquhart Castle, they do not object to taking a wheelchair on board, and their method of lifting both me and the wheelchair onto the boat was much more problem-free and comfortable than my Yugoslavian experience!)
Another tourist attraction can be found on a day trip to the banks of Loch Oich, amidst the splendour of the Great Glen the Tobar Nan Ceann (“The Well of the Heads”) stone monument remembers the murder of 2 brothers during the 17th Century; one was the Chief of Keppoch. The Story says they were killed by 7 kinsmen - the MacDonell’s of Glengarry.
These assassins were sought out by MacDonald of Sleat, who beheaded them and washed his bloody trophies in the well, before presenting the heads with great acclaim to their Clan Chief. The monument tells the story in Gaelic, Latin, French and English on each of its four panels, and 7 heads have been carved around the top.
(There is a nearby picnic area and toilet block, which is owned by The Forestry Commission. The toilet for disabled use is kept locked and is accessed by a RADAR key, see what I have written for SILVER BRIDGE.)
Was a toilet and lunch stopping place on the way to somewhere. My verdict - small, and only just manageable from a wheelchair; and being square rails, with rust and paint falling off them in places, I thought that they were difficult to hold on to.
I have not spent a lot of time in the Spey Valley. However, it seems to have been re-modernised for the tourist and I would be very surprised to find out that it could not cater for the disabled. Just a wee bit expensive!
I have been in the neighbouring village of NEWTONMORE on many occasions. There are a few tea-rooms as well as a chip shop which I have frequented! There is also a disabled toilet, in my opinion it’s a bit on the small side. I doubt I could have used it this year with the bigger size of wheelchair.
We stayed at the “Greenpark Caravan Site” outside Brora which was clean, off the main road and over the railway, and reasonably inexpensive. As well as room for touring caravans and tents, static caravans were available for hire. They also allowed dogs, if kept under control; had hot water and showers, at an extra cost; and a shop.
A toilet, supposed to be suitable for wheelchair users, was in the village. My verdict - Very cramped; I had to take my wheelchair to bits in order to manoeuvre close enough to transfer, one helper had to stand on top of the toilet pan while the other had to huddle in a corner. (Had our situation not been so serious, I would have had hysterics!)
The toilet was of a standard height and there were no grab rails. The toilet block was near the main Car Park. From here we took our day trip to John O’ Groats.
Although we could have by-passed this quiet village, Helmsdale holds a lot of happy memories and so for sentimentality-sakes we stopped for a while. Whilst dad went to buy a soft drink Mum and I went to the ladies.
My verdict - Disgusting. It had not seen a cleaner for ages; judging by the overflowing waste-bins, and it was flooded; there was so much water in there you could have paddled a canoe! The toilet which was supposed to be suitable for wheelchair users was about 15 inches high (which I suppose would have been high enough had the person in the wheelchair been a four foot dwarf!); there were no rails, but there seemed to be ample room.
Helmsdale was on the way to John O’ Groats.
Ironically enough, one of the biggest tourist draws in Scotland, did not (at the time of writing) have a toilet for disabled visitors. We even went to the local tourist information office, who apologised profusely.
Eventually, on someone else’s suggestion the hotel was tried. The new manager of the “John O’ Groats House Hotel” assured us that when the new hotel is built next year, in 1990, that it will include toilets suitable for the disabled to use.
As it happened we were able to use a toilet (ordinary pan, no rails) on the ground floor beside one of the bars.
Named after a Dutchman (John De Groot) who ran a ferry over to the Orkney Isles during the reign of James IV (1488-1513). A trip which is still available to-day. John O’ Groats itself is a small place, mostly consisting of shops for the tourists, a post box, a tourist information office, a hotel, toilets and a jetty for the ferry.
Do not forget, John O’ Groats is 876 miles from Lands End, which is the other end of mainland Britain.
The Scenery around John O’ Groats is rather flat and bare in a refreshing comparison to the majestic peaks and ragged coastline of the rest of Caithness. In all, it’s a gorgeous coast, with some very primitive, hard-wearing cliffs, and if you’re a bird watcher, keep an eye on the great variety of sea-birds.
The key for the disabled person’s toilet is obtainable from the attendants of the toilet block. My verdict - Cramped, not enough rails, one of these was too close to the pan to be of much use. The entire toilet block is near the main Car Park, between Presto and the tourist information office.
We stopped here to have a browse through the town, and for a picnic lunch on our way up to John O’ Groats.
Scotland has a somewhat violent and bloody history, this beautiful glen is no exception. On a hot summer’s day when you are caught in a unique sun-trap sheltered from the wind by craggy peaks which seem to tower all around you crowned by a misty haze, when you can close your eyes and feel the peace and tranquillity this glen offers, it’s hard to imagine that, a few centuries beforehand Glencoe was the scene of one of the bloodiest acts our past was staged.
Yet here was where “The Massacre of Glencoe” (as it was later to be known as) took place, the story of the events leading up to the butchering of the MacDonald clan by their hosts is re-told as a film shown in nearby Fort William during the summer months, and by the National Trust through their Visitors' Centre.
Glencoe is, first and foremost, a place of great scenic beauty. A place where those who are sensitive to it’s vibes, story and lessons can feel inspiration. Especially when the evening sun sets, spreading a blood-red blush over the heather as though in respectful lament. Or when the rain falls, and mists shroud the mountains, its then that the glen changes it’s mood to one of mysterious awe which imposes itself on your imagination so much that you may cast a wary backward glance.
However, some of the more practical assets include a caravan/camp site (“Invercoe” Caravans) with electricity on-tap (for a small extra price, and only available to some bays; a toilet which is suitable to take a wheelchair; walk-in showers; on-site shop; residential 6 berth caravans; sites can be booked in advance; children’s play area; dogs are allowed, but must be kept under control; a pebbled beach borders one side of the site.
Additional shops and a Post Office can be found in the village a short distance away.
Plus, an old croft has been restored to what it would have looked like around the time of the “Massacre”.
Provides the tourist with a quiet berth. Hosts hospitality and wonderful views (Oban seafront is lined with Hotels overlooking the opposite Islands in the bay, whilst it is backed by “McCaig’s Tower” which is like a replica of the Coliseum!).
Oban has a somewhat warm climate, which may be responsible for the lovely floral displays which can be seen during the summer months. However, just as it can be full of sweltering sun-shine, if it rains in Oban, it can really pour down.
From the harbour, ferries can be booked for day-trips to Mull, and from Mull to the small religious island of Iona. (It has been eons since I have been to Mull, so I do not know if there are any suitable toilets?)
On the sea-front small boats wait to take the ultra-brave a quick trip round the bay, or over to see the seals on Seal Isle.
To a different type of Seal now, a drive a short distance from Oban takes you to Seil Isle, and the only “Bridge over the Atlantic”. One story is that the locals (at the time Scots were forbidden to wear the kilt except in the army), used to keep a change of clothing by the bridge so that they could wear their kilts on the Isle, but change to trousers upon leaving. There are not a lot of shops on the Isle, although on a clear, sunny day it makes a very scenic run.
Just outside Oban is Ganavan Sands, compared to the pebbles of Oban these warm golden sands are a wonderful stretching place for when the sun gets too hot. Alternately, there are cliff walks.
Ganavan has a large stone pier, and it’s quite wide too. A push down there at full tide can reveal, if you look down below the water-line a lot of sights that you will not normally see when the wall is dry. In summer months when the water is warm and clear-ish divers can be seen in and around this stretch of water, because it boasts the wrecks of a few of the ill-fated Armada fleet. Maybe there is no more treasure to be found, but it is an ideal training water for sub-aqua clubs.
Ganavan has a caravan park, but the amenities it offers to the wheelchair user are sparse; a wheelchair can just get into the sea view restaurant, but as for toilets, if you are unable to get out of the wheelchair and walk into the cubicle, you will just have to wait until you get back to Oban as the widest cubicle they have was too narrow to allow even a standard size wheelchair entry.
Back in Oban, there is a toilet which is suitable for a wheelchair user, beside the “Corrie Halls” which host a lot of the big names in Scottish entertainment.
More recently a big centre has been built on the pier. It has a glass-works, where you can watch things being made before you are invited to buy them. There are some shops and public toilets, including a unisex toilet big enough for a wheelchair, even an electric one. There are also plenty of strategically placed grab-rails as well as a sink and mirror at wheelchair height.
Just a short drive away is the “Sea-Life Centre”, which is definitely worth a visit. They have special facilities for someone in a wheelchair; including, parking and toilets. Try the “touch pool”! I think they do concessions too, but you’ll have to ask. The most noticeable fault was the number of steps inside the building, but then again, they were only too pleased to help lug me about, but people have to be asked, then shown, what to do to help. The centre also has an indoor restaurant and outdoor woodland walks with outdoor Seal pools. Ideal for kids too.
On the whole Oban is an ideal scenic holiday, do not go if you get bored looking at things.
This is a forestry commission owned picnic area, where we stopped for tea, on the road to Ullapool.
Like most of their toilets it is accessed only by a RADAR key, although the basic design is good. I think they could have made better use of the space they allowed themselves if they had made the distance from the door to the toilet-pan shorter, while increasing the width of the whole area. However, it could be managed, and also featured a sink and mirror at wheelchair height.
A visit to the West coast would not be complete without going into the fishing village of Ullapool. On the shore of Loch (a sea loch), when all the fishing boats are cluttered round the harbour on a Sunday the sight is somewhat picturesque.
Sunday, in the Highlands and Islands, is still held by many to be the traditional day of rest, and some shops will not open on Sunday. However the tourists needs are seven days a week and a slight few are, although you had better not take too much for granted.
A busy little town which is packed full of visitors during the summer months. From Ullapool there is so much to do - try exploring the scenery of Ross-shire, much of which remains as the ice-age left it, and quiet, twisting roads take you past rocky hills lying like sleeping dinosaurs, whose tails lead to golden sandy bays and still lochs of tranquillity. Let the roads take you back in time to discover villages, many still have old stone crofts and in some remnants of the old system of farming can be seen.
The road to AULTBEA (which is where my dad comes from) is one where such sights can be seen. From the Braemore Junction part of the road may have been one of the last stagecoach runs in Scotland; a stagecoach which my grandfather often used when he was a young man. Gruinard, Bay, Island and Hill, can be found on this road.
The Island was invaded by anthrax during the last World War and since then has been out of bounds, to everything. There is a place for parking at the bottom of the hill so that children can play on the rich, golden sands of the Bay, while drivers decide how best to tackle the steep gradient before them. I do not know the official steepness, nor how it’s measured, but I do know that only the most ignorant, or bravest(!), of drivers will tow a caravan up it.
Just beyond Gruinard the majestic Loch Maree cuddles into the craggy hills. And beyond the Bay of Aultbea (now a Naval Base) lie Gairloch and the gardens of Inverewe (outside the village of Poolewe, which is also known to “Hamish MacBeth” fans). One might think that these gardens are better suited to a tropical climate, rather than a place which is further north than Moscow and Hudson Bay, Canada. However there is a warm tropical wind which blows into this area, and the gardens are a sheer freak of nature in that exotic, orchid-type flowers and palm trees can thrive here.
Meanwhile back in Ullapool, maybe the palm trees outside some hotels hint that something strange happens down the road.
Seals can be seen in Loch, and boat trips are available every day except Sunday, to take you to view the varied wild-life including sea-birds on the nearby Summer Isles.
Not having been put off boats entirely by this time, myself and my helper went to the pier to book an afternoon’s cruise to the Summer Isles. We choose the “Highland Queen” as she was the only boat which was allowed to land on one of the islands.
“Could they get a wheelchair on board the boat?” My friend had asked at the kiosk. “Yes; no problem,” came the cheerful reply.
My helper and I had been instructed to go to the boat just before she was due to depart so that they could get me on first. Which we did, and as I waited to be loaded I started to panic; in Ullapool the waterline is below the pier, which means that to get on/off a boat you have to climb down some stone steps etched in the old harbour wall!
By the time the captain and his first-mate arrived I was about to give them back my ticket as I was unable to see HOW they could get a wheelchair onto the boat, and I did not really want to ponder over that question.
However, with the quiet confidence typical of all Highlanders, they picked up the wheelchair and carried me, one at the front and one at the back, down onto the boat as though doing such was an everyday occurrence.
Once on the open sea the cruise was wonderful, at one stage the first-mate kindly leant me his binoculars and pointed out a solitary occupant in Seal Bay. A few words of warning though - Remember that when you leave the land behind you and are out on the open sea, it is The North Sea, and that can be a cold place, even when the sun is burning the land with it’s scorching heat - Dress Warmly.
“Broomfield” Caravan Park is situated right on the waters edge and their amenities include; cold water standpipe; chemical disposal points; toilet blocks; launderette; they allow dogs, but they must be kept under control; and it is within 2 minutes walk of the town.
The town has a fish and chip shop; a museum; a youth hostel; one supermarket; two mini-markets; numerous gift shops; restaurants; Post Office; Bank; hotels; filling station; and a harbour.
Ullapool has two disabled toilets; one for the ladies, and one for the gents. The ladies is rather small for a wheelchair and only has one bar, and the toilet is standard height. I never checked out the other toilet.
No-one seemed to know exactly where this toilet was, other than to say it was in the community hall, but it was unmarked so only after asking at the reception did we find it.
My verdict - a little bit bigger than a normal sized toilet; standard height, no rails, not much room for manoeuvrability.
Beyond Invermorriston, on the road to the Kyle of Lochalsh. These tea-rooms had a lovely big toilet, big enough for a wheelchair easily. However they had a couple of bars on the floor, that they did not know where to position, but the local council had told them they had to fix the bars.
My verdict - Was well enough sized and positioned. Could be interesting to see it now, if the council have insisted on cluttering the toilet with extra bars, as that usually means that something has been rendered unusable because the bar restricts its ability to be used properly. They do a lot of home baking, family owned place which is very friendly. They also have an exit at the back which has a ramp, it can also be used as an entrance.
This is port to the main ferry over to the Isle of Skye. Despite the small size of the town I was delighted to find a wonderfully built toilet for wheelchair visitors.
Adequate rails for most disabilities. A sink, mirror, lights, all at wheelchair level. There were even posters on the wall.
A lovely part of the country to be in lies between Loch Duich and Eilean Donan Castle, where telling winds whisper under the arches of the ancient stone bridge, the link between the ruins of a once great castle and the mainland. One can really feel the magic of the myths and stories which are this area’s legacy.
A hotel which can be found on the Invermorriston-Kyle of Lochalsh road, at the end of the Cluanie Dam. They were in the process of building on a toilet for wheelchair users when I visited for a scrumptious meal with homely service. They also have a gift shop.
Cape Wrath is even farther north than John O’ Groats, but then, as not a lot of people go there few people are aware of the miles of pure, golden sand which lie between Cape Wrath and Durness.
Yet perhaps as you drive from Ullapool and notice the scenery subtly changing from a rugged coastline with pebbly beaches to a flatter countryside and gently sweeping bays, even before you see the sand you can taste the sea on the air.
Such bays can be seen before you enter this sleepy village, of about half a dozen shops, and the same number of houses, including a guest-house, there is a small caravan site, a restaurant and craft shop, a picnic area and further down the road, a tourist information block.
It’s in here that you will find the toilet for the disabled. My verdict - a bit narrow but manageable non-the-less, had a sink and mirror at wheelchair height.
Fishing - usually this is available. Although whether or not it is possible is entirely individual.
N.B. - Toilets (in Scotland anyway), vary according to the council in charge of the region they are in. Which is why some are good and some are bad. Some are locked and accessed by RADAR keys ONLY.
An overnight stop in the Soluis Mu Thuath Guest House, Stromeferry made it possible to see this unique, manmade structure.
This guesthouse had been adapted so that it could accept a wheelchair bound visitor. The couple who owned it were very friendly and welcoming, also very accommodating of the needs of the disabled.
The previous day had included a whistle stop tour of Skye, the following day resulted in a whistle stop tour of the surrounding area. Which included a trip up Mount Ratagan, climbing one foot up in every eight feet lengthwise, this makes Ratagan one of Scotland’s steepest mountains. However, the view from the top is quite breathtaking.
The largest of the Balearic Islands, and not my choice for a holiday destination; but what a marvellous choice it proved to be.
To go abroad for a week is not long enough, and it can be too expensive, in my opinion anyway, but because of work and family commitments my helper/friend could not give up a fortnight. Compromise was the only solution, so ten days it was.
According to the travel agent, the only destination which flew from a Scottish airport was Majorca, and the computerised information regarding the suitability of some hotels supplied by Thomson’s, recommended the Bahia Del Este.
In my opinion, Spain has been too commercialised especially for the tourist and so, because I like to explore uncharted territory, it’s not my choice. However, I needed a break, and it had to be someplace sunny. Therefore all that remained for me to do, was pack.
The hotel was superb, in all aspects; there were ramps beside the steps at several of the entrances/exits, the buffet restaurant had an excellent selection, the maids were friendly and the receptionists helpful (especially when asked to arrange taxis, which were plentiful), like most large hotels the leisure facilities it offered were extensive (an indoor heated pool, two outdoor pools, a sun terrace, a jacuzzi, saunas, a masseur and a gymnasium, as well as a keep-fit instructor who took daily classes).
There was also a bar and lounge, and the hotel arranged entertainment most evenings. The hotel also had a lift and numerous awards for their high standard of service. Also, I was not the only wheelchair-bound guest of the hotel, but I will let that speak for itself.
As well as all this the resort also catered very well for children with funfair-type amusements, pedal-cars and family-sized tandems.
The town of Cala Millor was linked to the neighbouring village of Cala Bona by a seafront promenade, stretching for approximately two miles and lined with all kinds of shops, bars, cafes and restaurants it was a shopper’s paradise. If you went about a hundred yards or so inland, the town centre was pedestrianised. It was wonderful; you could be pushed literally for miles without having to negotiate a single kerb! We frequently shopped till we dropped, well almost! In fact, apart from shopping and sun-worshipping we did not really do much else.
Except, we did go on a glass bottom boat up the coast to Cala Ratjada, and I enjoyed it so much that we did it all again! (The first time we went the sea was a little rough and my friend’s stomach complained; so I had to do some gentle-persuading to get her to go the next time!)
We were told at the kiosk in Cala Millor to book from the kiosk in Cala Bona, as there were too many steps on the jetty. (Now I had better add that as there were so many wheelchair-bound people in this resort, my friend and I assumed they knew what they were taking about.) We were not to be disappointed; at Cala Bona not only was it flat but the woman we booked with recommended one out of the three glass bottom boats because its metal gangplank was wide enough for a wheelchair.
I was delighted to find out that getting a wheelchair on/off the boat was as easy as a roll on/roll off ferry. By a long shot, it was the easiest boat trip I had ever been on!
The only complaint could have been with our Thomson’s representative, who was friendly but not very helpful as that was only the start of her first season in Cala Millor and so she was unable to advise us on the suitability of the trips.
I almost forgot to tell you about our room. It was huge, our twin beds had been pushed together, presumably to give me more room to get the wheelchair alongside the bed, whilst in neighbouring alcove were another two single beds (so in fact our room could have slept four).
There was plenty of wardrobe space, and although the bathroom door was only standard width (knuckle-scrapingly narrow), it was possible to get the wheelchair beside the toilet.
I would go back again, even if just to relax and soak up the sun. Everything was so suitable.
Converted farm buildings in the Scottish Borders made suitable accommodation for a marvellous, very restful and peaceful and idyllically tranquil holiday. Eldon Holiday Cottages consisted of five especially adapted cottages that were suitable for most types of disability. Hoists, either overhead tracking hoists, which were mounted on the ceiling or portable manually, operated ones were available. Likewise, also available were slings, special mattresses, shower chairs as well as other bits of equipment, which would make life easier for a disabled person.
All the carer and myself were told to bring was our food, which we did, everything else was already supplied, even the videos which we watched on the television set in the cottage.
Our cottage was once a piggery and the hills, which overlooked it, were at one time, volcanoes!
In fact the only minus point was that the cottages was on top of a small hill outside Melrose. We soon nicknamed this “small hill” Kilimanjaro because of its steepness, definitely not for the faint hearted, or unfit! (The carer I mean, not myself)
Although this made it difficult to go walk-a-bouts, it did not make it impossible and we did go for some lovely woodland walks. One of those took us into nearby Galashiels, where we had a lovely afternoon’s meander.
Another interesting exploration was had by visiting the nearby Melrose Abbey, where Robert the Bruce’s heart is preserved in lead!
Melrose is an ideal shopping area, which combines both old and new, typically tourist orientated and also the more general commercial good or items that can be purchased in any other town.
There’s only one thing left to say - If you are going anywhere this year... BON VOYAGE!
This page was last updated on 13 November, 2005