I think that as I have digested it all, I can talk about my thoughts around this experience.
Victoria is crowded, busy, almost difficult but somehow accessible. I think that by comparison to other London stations, its amazingly accessible. But yet, as I got on the 507 bus, the first thing of the driver not being there was a small hinderence. The next transaction though…
“Where does he want to get off?” the driver asked Shane, my colleague for the day.
“Waterloo.” Shane replied. He looked at me with the same questioning expression I had to him, our disbelief of what had just happened – the blatent ignorance and lack of any disability awareness.
This is no exaggeration. This really happened. Lovely airy bus, nice smooth ride. Terrible experience because of the most basic of all insults.
London Waterloo, itself a busy place, I have no conceivable opinion of. I’m immune to it and its way of working. Automatic barriers are inclusive. Lifts hot. Tube busy. I do what I do, make my way to the access point, park. Its full of people in the door who disappear by Canary Wharf.
Stratford has changed – gates removed, very busy as a location. But the busyness is a small part. Lifts exist, one DDA compliant, the other not – a victim to glass sided fashion and tiny buttons. Walkways identical, no way finding if you are visually impaired. Walking out, a guiding gully for the shutters big enough to catch a front wheel. Multitudes of paving types. It felt awful. All this time, I have been making notes, the whole journey.
I walked off to get a bus next. I was going to Bow Church to change for a bus to Islington. Through a shopping centre, out to a main street, crossing a road to a stop – no raised kerbs. None of the stops in London have raised kerbs.
On board, I spot the things I spot.
“Shane, what can you see? What not all buses have.” I ask. Its eye spy for geeks.
Shane, needless to say is flummoxed. “Don’t know,” he concedes.
I point at the mirror above his head, showing me where we were going.
The interchange was again hard work, a zebra crossing with dipped kerbs the size of mountains and difficult, rough surfaces. Another bus, no mirror but a beautiful Scania Omnideka – glossy and functional.
Islington was our destination, a location with people, lunch and Police – officers out to reassure people. It was nice surfaces, horrible kerbs and a bus that turned up busy. It took me to London Bridge station, a place Ibam not fond of – the station designed with ramps over lifts, a and is difficult for wheelchair users to ascend alone. The gentlemen on the gate were clear about where I needed to touch in, the platform staff very helpful, polite. A short ride to Greenwich where the audit ended, but my journey didn’t. The platform staff were friendly, apologising for the lift outage, saying I was welcome back any time. Good service from a company slated during the ice and snow by all.
I took the DLR to Canary Wharf, abandoning Shane with a handshake and jumping on a train to Stratford – jumping like any other person, not seeking assistance like I would on National Rail. jumping off at Stratford, heading for a train to Liverpool Street and home.
My day was good. If we had done lunch on the run, Shane would have smashed his record time for these audits. But it was tainted, for me, by that first transaction – and anyone else could well have just given up and gone home, such is the indignity.