The other day I was at a site near Plovdiv, Bulgaria called the Wonderful Bridges, fantastic rock shapes created when a huge cave subsided a very long time ago. Some women were operating roadside stalls selling honey and mead products and also hand knitted goods. While the natural produce looked good I settled for some hand knitted booties. It puzzles me that we go into supermarkets and pay what’s asked but when confronted by the poor we bargain hard on the basis that it’s expected of us. I knit myself and watching these women knitting in 35 degree heat was enough for me. I paid what they asked, which was really pennies for me. So am I a mug or is there some justification for income redistribution through geriatric tourism??
Finding my ancestors
Part of my travel in 2014 was about my family history. My fathers’ family came from Chudleigh, a village in Devon. And yes for the Harry Potter people I have heard of the Chudleigh Cannons. What I hadn’t realised until I discovered the Chudleigh connection was the extent to which Devon place names, including Chudleigh, had been replicated in my home State of Tasmania.
However train to Exeter and a taxi to Chudleigh saw me standing in the ancestral space. I wandered down the two streets in which my 2x Great Grandparents had lived, unable to identify each house because numbers weren’t given in the census, the sense of place was eerie. Trawled the local high street and found shops, art centres and some interesting Cafe’s. Visited the post office where they were not aware of any remaining locals with the ancestral surnames, and trawled through all available churchyards.
The local library was rewarding for background in events in Chudleigh around the 1850″s which was the time of their departure for Australia. It seems that Chudleigh, like many such villages was bypassed by trains an suffered from poor weather patterns at the time, The wool industry was depleted and my family were wool combers. Further research shows that, unlike most of my other ancestors they had arrived as indentured servants, he was a painter and she a needle woman. No ancestors were buried in the local graveyard. Later research shows that the family were religious Non conformists, now there’s a surprise, and had a tendency to marry Catholics. Again not a usual thing at the time.
Not really sure what I expected to feel but I came away with at least some sense of what the ancestors were like and also with contacts at the Library. I’ve promised to send them the family tree when it’s finished. Curiously my father, who always said he had no family, has ancestors going back to 1400’s. Next year I hope to pursue my mothers’ ancestral ties in Ireland and Samoa.
Business class or economy?
One of my interests is family history and while I have yet to find the miser on my family tree, I just know he’s there! I have travelled business class, when on business and enjoyed it. I have occasionally been upgraded to business class and enjoyed that even more, but generally based on simple costings I opt for economy. Qantas economy is reasonably comfortable and if I’m tempted by other fares I check the seat size and leg room. Usually I stay with Qantas. However I leave a day or two ahead of my first appointment. I alert my hotel to my arrival time and my need for a disabled room, or at least a walk in shower, and ask for the earliest possible check-in. On arrival I may book an in-room massage. I may or may not order room service and then it’s sleep, massage, sleep some more and exit the next day feeling seriously chipper. If I am in London I head to ffiona’s on Kensington Church St for the best breakfast with the most fun crew in London. We are all disabled in our own way, but with a bit of slightly self indulgent planning it need not be limiting. Don’t let it hold you back, and please work out what remedy best suits your pocket and health level.
My solutions may not work for you, they’re indications, not prescriptions!
The ‘Person’ in seat 70G
Ok we’ve all had to deal with them But I never quite know how to. I was on Qantas which flies from Sydney to Dubai and after a rather irritating and brief stopover decants people at Heathrow at some awful hour of the morning. It’s never a comfortable flight and I am frankly too mean to pay for business class. My disability means I can’t use an exit row so I choose seating as intelligently as I can.
With the new A380 configuration I opt for an aisle seat in the centre bank of seats, That way only one person gets to climb over me during the flight and I have access to the aisle. I am not a small person I have long legs and excruciatingly painful knees. I am not a wimp.
But when short blokes sit in the seat in front of me, push their seat back to the maximum for the entire flight even though it is obvious I am having difficulties, when they put their seat back when they have finished their meal, not after food service is finished and when they bounce in their seat to get comfortable, it is not funny. I was in a lot of pain but couldn’t take pills as it is best to be compos mentis when going through Customs, I’m ex Immigration and like to look like someone my host country would welcome. At Dubai I used the wheel chair because I was having trouble walking, and it must have gotten through because he sat upright till London. But really passengers, try to hobble a bit in our shoes. Less of the eye rolling and snorting when we need to lean on your seat to walk down the aisle and maybe let us have a meal, watch a movie and be a normal person for a part of the trip. And if, like this inconsiderate git, you are not tall, stop pretending. Disabled people do not travel on discounts, treat us like people. Thank you so much I really do feel better for having got that one off my chest!
how to get through Heathrow in 35 minutes
Now that I have your attention.
First get a disability.
Second acknowledge it.
I spent years operating with the first and in denial on the second.
When an airline asks if you want assistance it’s not patronising, nor is accepting help an admission of weakness or failure. The flight to Dubai is persecutory, especially if you are sitting behind the %###@ in seat 70G, as I was on my last trip. (More about him later). So in 2014 I was independent and declined a wheelchair or even a seat on the buggy. Silly me. This time I accepted even at Dubai and it helped a lot.
On arrival at Heathrow I was moved quickly to the buggy then wheel chairs were provided and we moved quickly to the ATM’s and luggage collection. When you get to the passport queue there is a special line for disabled passengers. USE IT.
This time I went from plane to taxi in 35 minutes. It doesn’t lessen the pain in my joints or de-kink my back, but it ain’t hay either. Most airports provide similar services and I thoroughly recommend them.
No one give medals for ersatz bravery.
River cruising 2014
The first year of my 5 years of Summer was 2014. Before that most of my travel was business related and I was usually in the company of a colleague. This was my first longer solo venture and it was frankly a bit unnerving.
I travelled to London and then visited a lot of Loire chateaux prior to joining an APT river Cruise from Amsterdam to Budapest. This was followed by a bus and train trip from Budapest to Prague. The next phase was to travel to Vienna, Dijon, Beaune, Lyon, Paris and then home to Canberra via London. I’ll deal with each part of the trip separately over the next few posts, but there are some overarching principles about single travel and I learned a lot from this trip. ( That’s a nice way of saying I made some really dumb mistakes.) Feel free to benefit from my stuff ups! And I’m still learning.
Eurostar, star indeed.
Love Eurostar. Their service level is fantastic and their staff helpful and cheerful. Only found out about the assistance services when I asked to borrow a trolley and was told they could be of greater help than that. My luggage was put on a trolley, wheeled through the customs check point, lifted onto their screening machines, and wheeled though immigration. My minder then found me a seat, and collected me when the train was called. Lift to the platform and I was escorted onto the train and my luggage safety stowed. I was given a voucher and at the Paris end of the journey was retrieved from the train, by a smiling French person, escorted to the front of the taxi queue and wished a wonderful holiday in France. That is service. And it reduces stress by a factor of zillions. My advice is always accept help, it may be the last offer you get all day!
PUBLIC TRANSPORT
Strewth, public transport, what’s that? In theory I love it, but my reality is that the TGV or Eurostar are as near as I get while enjoying the experience. The metro is a wonderful thought and having seen SUBWAY I can imagine the Paris Metro as a hot bed of something or other, but the reality is there are stairs and a need to move quickly in crowds. Neither appeal to me, because I simply can’t do them. And both are consequently, sometimes dangerous. Love English trains but not at peak hour and especially the classics like the great Northern Line and the trip London to a Edinburgh is marvellous.
Trains, planes or automobiles?
Really it’s name your poison. Planes are awful, seats too narrow and my feet swell. Too mean to buy business so I travel economy, pay for a sensibly positioned seat so that I am on the aisle thus reducing the number of people who have to clamber over me, but basically I hate it lousy view, indifferent food, inconvenient stopovers and then you need to get into the city. Compromise is that on international I travel economy but leave a day or two early, and book a nice hotel, organise a massage and sleep like the dead. Cheaper than Business.
Trains: Love them, great view, lots of leg room, space to walk around, you can bring your own food and some even have disabled facilities. train stations not so much. research and if in doubt arrange to be met AT THE TRAIN, not at the kerb outside the station. In extremis I use the porters no matter how many times the web tells me they are ripping me off. the last station I was at, Sofia, is a work in progress and it will be great when it’s finished but at the moment there is a huge stair case and I paid to have my cases carried. Cheap at the price. Plus I was directed away from the two cash machines which were not working, but the tourists couldn’t read the sign, to the Bureau de Change which was operating. Helped to a taxi and got to my hotel quickly.
Automobiles: can be a blessing. it depends on the rate, distance and balance between cost, comfort and convenience. I don’t drive in Europe. It has to do with everyone driving on the wrong side of the road and from the passenger seat, frankly I am danger to myself and other road users. What is wrong with the rest of the world?? But if I’m tired, like now, and if I’m not looking forward to a particular railway station, and if the costs of taxis either end , train tickets and porters is near equivalent to what might be charged by the likely lad driving the BMW, then I’m likely to be seduced by the Beamer. There is something to be said for door to door comfort and convenience. So I’m occasionally a wimp? Who cares!
I accept there are buses, but they have high steps, awful loos, limited leg room and they rarely stop at nice restaurants. Generally buses and I do not compute, though I intend to try them at some stage during this trip just to test my own theories, and to research the accuracy of my prejudices.
I will probably be grumpy as a consequence. This may be amusing but no promises.
Internet, info or disinfo?
It’s easy to accept what’s on the web as gospel, frequently it’s a reflection of a one off event writ much larger than it need be. Example: ATM’s in Bulgaria chew up credit cards. Not my experience, but it happened to one person. The other squillion to whom it didn’t happen haven’t bothered to write about their positive experiences. Belgrade railway station is a dangerous spot. Not my experience, it’s busy and there were a lot of people around, but it was mostly people drinking coffee and waiting for buses, or trains. Also the French are not all rude, they’re pretty much like wherever you’re from. And not all taxi drivers are rip off merchants. From my recent trip, the night train from Belgrade to Sofia was interesting, but not dangerous. No Roma and not a single Balkan desperado in sight. Just people going home or travelling; seats were comfortable and the loos were no less clean than other trains I’ve been on, though the olfactory element was an issue. I suspect it has to do with technology and the age of the rolling stock. Bulgarian border people were also courteous and pleasant. Assess, don’t accept!