Londoners Lend Helping Hands

Traveling abroad is never easy, even less so when you’re disabled. But if I had to choose one country where people bend over backward to help a handicapped person, it would be Great Britain.

Take the day my wife and I visited the British Museum. We were standing in the forecourt, I was leaning on my cane, contemplating the flight of stairs to be climbed--and the vast unknown spaces beyond--when a guard came rushing up.

“Could you use a wheelchair, sir?” he asked. “There’s a lot of walking inside, you know.”

I knew what he meant. After a moment’s hesitation I told him I thought a chair might be a good idea. Discreetly, he signaled a second guard on the porch of the museum. I was guided to one side, where an “invalid lift” stood waiting to raise me to the level of the porch. There, the second guard had a lightweight wheelchair in readiness.

Minutes later I was rolling merrily through one of the world’s biggest museums. I don’t think my wife and I could have seen half its wonders if I hadn’t been pushed.

In many thoughtful little ways the British extend a hand to the disabled visitor. And they’re becoming more adept at it.

Sidewalks and Buses

In London I found that many sidewalks boast those handy cutouts in the concrete that make life easier for wheelchair users and people who have trouble with curbs. On the big red double-deck buses, people instinctively extend themselves to help.

Each time I boarded a bus, hands reached out to assist me and someone moved aside to give me a seat. In no other major city I know of do people make such a fuss about helping the disabled. It is, in a sense, a phenomenon.

The double-deckers are a special boon for the disabled because many (although not all) are run by two-man teams of driver and conductor. Instead of fighting to keep your balance while you fumble with change, the system lets you take a seat and wait until the conductor comes around to collect your fare. We rode the bus quite a bit, leaving the tube--the London subway--to hardier souls.

However, I must admit that I seldom climbed to the second deck of the bus, despite the better view. The steps are steep and winding and can be most intimidating when the bus is in motion.

‘Stick Person’ Defined

I am what the British call a “stick person.” Wherever I go my cane travels with me. I can manage without a wheelchair, but that doesn’t mean that there are not some formidable obstacles--stairs to be climbed, cobblestone streets to be negotiated (they seem to be everywhere in Europe), narrow doorways to be squeezed through and centuries of castles, museums and great houses, all built long before any king or bishop gave a thought to the problems of the handicapped.

In fact, the obstacle course starts with your first day overseas. If you’re arriving in Great Britain, you’ll have to pass through the world’s biggest airport, Heathrow. Forget about walking it. The place is much too enormous for anyone with a disability.

Instead, arrange with your airline for a wheelchair; the airport should have the chair waiting at the door of the plane, complete with a friendly employee to push it. Not only will this save you endless walking but you’ll find that it has certain other advantages.

You get to whisk through the passport desk, bypassing the long line of travelers who must wait their turn. And after you’ve picked up your baggage, placing your carry-on carefully in your lap, the authorities will often waive the lengthy customs inspection that can keep you tied up another half-hour or so.

Taxi Beats the Tube

From there you have a choice of the airport bus, a taxi or the tube. The latter has a line that runs straight out to the airport and it’s certainly the cheapest way to town if you’re physically up to it. But with luggage, not to mention jet lag, you may find it’s not worth the hassle.

A word about those big black taxis, so ubiquitous in London: They are quite simply marvelous for anyone with a handicap. You can easily load a folding wheelchair into the back and still have room to stretch your legs. There’s even a jump seat if it’s necessary to prop up a limb.

The cab drivers with their breezy manner will usually give you an assist (if you ask), although alighting does take a bit of doing. The old London cabs are high, which means a step down whenever you get out. With a bit of practice, however, it can be done.

Bit of West End Blues

After a day of sightseeing you’ll probably be considering an evening at the theater. By all means go, but first ask at the box office if there are stairs to contend with. We bought seats in the stalls, the British equivalent of the orchestra, to avoid a long climb to the balcony.

Arriving, we discovered to our dismay that many West End theaters are designed so that you walk down a long flight to reach the stalls. That means, of course, a hard climb back up, and perhaps another climb to reach the restrooms.

Often, the section of the theater you want--the one at street level that has few if any steps to climb--is the dress circle. The price is roughly equivalent, but the seats are easier to reach.

Most London theaters are old and not too well set up for wheelchairs, but the National Theater across the Thames, having been built only a few years ago, has no steps and there’s always room for a chair or two.

How to get around London? Bus and cab are best. Avoid driving a car, if at all possible. Even on the best of days, London traffic is horrendous, and you may be piloting a right-hand-drive car for the first time on the “wrong” side of the road.

Reserve an Automatic

But outside the metropolis an automobile makes sense, especially if you’re handicapped. Like many disabled people I require a car with an automatic shift. If that’s your situation, be sure to reserve your car well in advance. Most European car rentals are five-speeds because that’s what Europeans like to drive. If you show up at the counter at the last minute, you’re liable to find all the automatics gone.

What if, heaven forbid, you should have an accident? Well, we did. A word of reassurance: Forget all those horror stories you’ve read about the National Health System. It does work, most of the time.

Deep in the heart of the Cotswolds, that lovely English countryside the poets write about, a broken wrist threatened to bring our vacation to a screeching halt. We rushed to the hospital expecting, naturally, the worst. Instead, we were directed to “Casualty” (that’s the equivalent of our emergency room) where X-rays were taken and a plaster cast applied, all in less than an hour.

There were no lengthy forms to fill out, no standing at the counter while answering endless questions about insurance. And best of all, the service was free.

Accustomed to Queues

I’ll have to admit that this isn’t everyone’s experience. And of course there are exceptions. If you have to visit a clinic, for example, you’ll wait your turn for a doctor like everyone else, often for several hours. But Britons are used to queuing up. Like soccer and the Royal Family, waiting in line has become a kind of British national pastime.

A couple of tips for traveling handicapped: The best guidebook for disabled people is Nicholson’s “Access in London.” This British paperback contains invaluable information about museums, theaters, churches, historic buildings, hotels, where to find a lavatory accessible to wheelchairs and how many steps need to be climbed at almost every place you’ll want to visit.

The best organization in England to contact if you’re a handicapped traveler is RADAR (Royal Assn. for Disability and Rehabilitation). They’ll send you information about special tours for the disabled, and discounts available for the handicapped on British Rail. Write them at 25 Mortimer St., London W1N 8AB.

An item I found particularly handy was a folding cane. Called “Have Cane, Will Travel,” it’s made of metal and folds away so that you can stow it under an airplane seat, keep it out of sight on a bus or in a restaurant, even tuck it into an overnight case. It’s made by Carex, 39 Tompkins Point Road, Newark, N.J. 07114, and is sold at medical supply houses around the country. I bought two.