Rolling Traveler

After dinner on Saturday, the newlyweds had a surprise for all the guests. They’d hired a boat to sail the canals of Amsterdam for a while, something I’d often wanted to do, but never had the time for. The landing stage and boat were inaccessible to wheelchairs, but, as I mentioned yesterday, I wasn’t missing out on a minute of Jonathan and Stan’s big day. We just had to work out how to get around the car that had been inconsiderately parked at the top of the steps down to the landing stage, down those narrow steps, and then onto the boat. The car was the biggest obstacle, as it didn’t leave us a lot of room to squeeze past, and one of the more nervous guests was sure I was going to end up in the canal at one point.

However, it was all under control. Someone carried the chair, two people handled me, and we were soon happily on the boat, getting our drinks and continuing the good conversations we’d been enjoying all evening.

 It was dark by now, so we were seeing Amsterdam by night, without tour-guide commentary. Our views were the lights of the houses and house-boats, the illuminated buildings, and the reflections on the water. It afforded me a view of the city I’ve never seen, and gave me a new appreciation for the Netherlands’ capital. I often get too caught up in how inaccessible the city is, and it was nice to just be able to look without thinking about the effort involved. It left me all the more determined to come back and do a cruise by day, although judging by the accessibility issue I saw that evening, and the information I’ve found online, I’ll definitely need to travel with someone for that to be an option.

 (Canal cruises in Amsterdam: a Very Good way to see the city, but apparently Poor accessibility)

 After the cruise, the group split up. Some people headed home, some people headed for the bars. Pubs and bars are a hit-and-miss experience for wheelchair users in Europe. There’s no guarantee that there’ll be a disabled access restroom, and unless the bar is a popular one with tourists, it’s rare for barriers like internal steps and narrow doorways to have been dealt with. On top of that, the crowds inside can be a little intimidating to people who are new to being wheelchair users, and difficult to navigate to even the most experienced rolling travelers. The bar we had two steep steps up to the front door, no disabled access restroom, and only a relatively narrow space between the bar and the opposite wall, but the crowd wasn’t too big, and the music wasn’t so loud that I couldn’t ask people to move.

 The bar itself, men-only gay leather bar the Eagle, gets mixed reviews, and certainly wouldn’t be to everyone’s taste. As far as I’m concerned, the beer was good, the atmosphere was great, and we spotted a good space near the bar soon after coming in, so we could all relax and have a laugh.

 (The Eagle: Poor accessibility, Good drinks and atmosphere)

 Best of all, we got a bonus hour: daylight savings time ended and the clocks went back at 3 am on Sunday. That’s about the first time I’ve ever seen any advantage in the summertime-wintertime change, so I guess it’s not as dumb as I always say.

 If I ever doubt that I can take part in an event or party because of the wheelchair, I’m going to come back and read this trip diary again. With the occasional bit of help from my friends and a good amount of planning, there was nothing I couldn’t manage, and I once again showed myself and my friends that the wheelchair has to be thought of, but not planned around. Using a wheelchair doesn’t mean being left out or left behind, or leading a second-class life.

Trackback URI | Comments RSS