Live your potential

Eating at a great height

I went to Skylon last week. "Located within the Royal Festival Hall, Skylon offers a spectacular panorama of London's skyline with floor to ceiling windows overlooking the River Thames. A destination restaurant and a relaxed, informal grill centre around a raised bar serving classic and contemporary cocktails, perfect for day and night".

It lives up to its description. The meal was one of the best I've had for a long time, especially the chervil and goat's cheese soup, an unusual and delicious combination. The fish was perfectly cooked, the sorbets wonderfully cleansing, service immaculate. The table height was good and the floor wonderfully level. So far, so good.

However, getting to the restaurant was a different matter entirely. We started from the riverside entrance and caught the wheelchair lift up to the first floor. Well, what we thought was the first floor, except it turned out to be a kind of waiting area with steps up to the main lifts. Back down to another lift which went to the third floor, the entrance for Skylon. However, there were steps down to the restaurant. So back down to the first floor and push across to another lift. This one seemed to go to the third floor and the section we need. But no, it doesn't stop at the third floor, only the right-hand lift does. And that wasn't working. The service lift was locked. This whole process has taken at least ten minutes so far and my frustration is rising. Finally, we see another service lift with a staff member inside. We squash in and finally, finally get to the same level as the Skylon entrance. What an appalling start. Surely it would not be that difficult to label lifts so that this situation is avoided? The only information on the restaurant's own website is "Step-free access to Skylon is available from the Royal Festival Hall Foyer". I don't think so.

Update:

I sent Skylon an email following my delicious meal with disappointing access:

Dear Skylon

I came last Friday (7^th August) to the Skylon restaurant for a pre-theatre meal. It was exquisite. The food was superb (especially the perfect chervil and goat’s cheese soup), the service excellent and the price reasonable. I was delighted with the happy birthday plate I had requested. However, getting to the restaurant was a different matter entirely. I’m paralysed and a wheelchair user. I had warned staff in advance. However, it must have taken me at least ten extremely frustrating minutes to get to Skylon from the riverside entrance of the RFH. The first lift took us to the third floor but one with steps down to the restaurant. The second lift didn’t stop at the third floor. The adjoining lift, which did stop there, wasn’t working. The service lift was locked. We finally managed to get to our destination (late) by cramming in to another service lift with a staff member.

The same situation happened in reverse when we left. We asked to be directed to the QEH artists’ entrance and were told we would be met by a staff member. No one met us. Following the directions given at the restaurant took us to the main entrance of the QEH. We then had to be escorted round to the artists’ entrance. This meant that we were ten minutes late in reaching our seats and the show had to be held up especailly for us. It was a sour end to a fabulous evening.

Please can you let me know what you inted to do to make any future visit more pleasant? At present, whilst I would love to sample the food once more, I feel no inclination to struggle against the lifts to reach the restaurant.

I look forward to hearing from you.

I received the following impressive response from Simon King, the general manager:

I was recently given your email and although it was nice to hear how you enjoyed your birthday with us at Skylon I feel very embarrassed with how difficult you found both arriving and departing from our restaurant. I’m so sorry that you had this inconvenience, we are somewhat misfortunate that Skylon being on level 3 has no direct accessible access other than this one lift that was not working.

We do have an agreement with the Royal Festival Hall that a ramp is to be fitted to the adjacent stairs to allow guest direct access to the restaurant from another lift, which we sometimes use for large wheelchairs do not fit in the main lift. I have spoken to the Royal Festival Hall about this matter and they now know if the lift on the riverside entrance is out of order other arrangements must be made to maintain constant access. Fortunately these lift are pretty reliable and rarely are out of action for very long, however this experience has reminded us that we need to react when things go wrong and I have informed my staff of the necessary procedure.

Thank you so much for taking the time in giving us your valuable feedback, I do hope you still managed to enjoy your birthday. I would like to reassure you that the access to Skylon is usually very good and it should not deter you from future visits. I do hope that we will see you again at Skylon, please do hesitate to contact me directly and I will take care of the reservation myself

Best regards

Simon

Adieu

We're off to France for our first family holiday since my accident in 2006. Exciting! It will be a time of non-electronica, so unless I manage to find an internet cafe in rural Brittany, I won't be posting for a week or so. We return next Saturday, 30 May. Stay well till then, tout le monde!

Less fear of flying

Back in May last year, I flew to Brazil on my first plane trip since my accident. I was nervous. I didn't know what to expect and wrote about it here. And I wasn't too reassured by an article in Disability Now in October which read "A wheelchair user was denied the right to fly by herself by an airline that claimed new EU legislation meant she must be accompanied by a carer...The new legislation says that anyone unable to fasten their seat-belt, leave their seat and reach an emergency exit unaided should in most cases be accompanied".

I'm therefore reassured that the Equality and Human Rights Commission (EHRC) have published guidance for air travellers. They say:

"Last July, a new EU law came into force which means that anyone who is disabled or has difficulty moving around can now ask for the right service when they need it – from the travel agent or tour operator, airline or airport, for example help finding you the most suitable seat on your flight or help when you board the plane.

"You do not need to be permanently or physically disabled to benefit from this service. In fact, anyone who has difficulty moving around, for example, because of their disability, age or a temporary injury such as a broken leg, can receive help when they fly".

The EHRC have also published a "free easy-to-use guide - 'Your rights to fly' - explaining all about the services available to you". You can find out more on their website.

(I wonder what Liz Carr thinks about this. I read a great article about her experiences of flying on the BBC Ouch site).

Off the road

Feel like I've been away for ages. Friday botox in Salisbury then drive to Stoke Mandeville (thank heavens for the sat nav god. Would never have found the Olympic Lodge otherwise, down a dark side road). Intense and draining weekend of mentoring training. Drive to London Sunday night. Meet two friends for more intense conversations (a pattern here?) on Monday. Drive home Monday night. Tuesday full day of skating and childcare. Today I can stop, unpack the car, wash all my clothes, have a shave... It's just like the old days when I returned from a weekend walking and camping in the Lake District: slowly sorting out the chaos and returning to normality.

Eco eating

Back in the Big Smoke for a spot of culture and epicurean pleasure. Sitting in the wonderfully accessible Sadlers Wells, about to see my favourite theatre director, Robert Lepage, try his hand at a new skill: dancing, with Sylvie Guillem in Eonnagata. Going to head home straight after the show rather than spend an expensive night at a hotel so I've brought the car. I'm impressed by Sadler's free, gated and guarded car park one minute's wheel away from the theatre.

Replete after a delicious lunch with a friend in Acorn House, according to Giles Coren over at the Times "the most important restaurant to open in London in the past 200 years". Important I suppose because of its green credentials: it's "London’s first truly environmentally sustainable restaurant". According to Mr Coren, Acorn House is "built from organic and recycled materials, composts or recycles 100 per cent of its waste, demands positive animal husbandry, avoids industrial farming, uses green electricity, buys Fairtrade where it can, and pledges never to use airfreight."

But I'm more delighted by the perfect height tables, accessible loo and level entrance (though you need to go round the back). Mouth wateringly delicious cuttlefish and unusually flavoured chili pasta. To finish, fresh leaves of verbena and peppermint. It's on Swinton Street just behind King's Cross with blue badge parking nearby. A magical oasis in what can be a bit of a gastronomic wasteland. I will be returning to quench...

Disappointment

It's lovely being surrounded by deep snow at home. I've just been snowball fighting with the kids and now resemble a snowman. I'm probably just as cold as one, but one benefit (and danger) of spinal cord injury is that I have absolutely no sensation of temperature below my armpits. So I feel fine, though I may well not be.

Yet I wish I was in Colorado. I want to learn how to ski so that I can take the children. I want a break. I've not had a holiday since July 2006 - my accident - unless you call fourteen months of hospital stay a holiday. I want to go somewhere I've never been before. I want to get fit and feel completely shattered every day for two weeks. I want to be free of my wheelchair. I had a wonderful experience of this when I went sailing on a day trip from hospital: no wheelchair, alone in a trimaran, racing across Portsmouth Harbour. I felt so liberated. And apparently skiing gives the same feeling.

Back-Up say "Back-Up ski courses are not holidays. They are intensive courses designed to promote individual learning and independence through activity. We hope that the course will be an enjoyable and positive learning experience." And they have fantastic objectives:

• to integrate through participation
• to offer the opportunity to regain motivation, inspiration and independence
• to encourage people to discover their abilities
• to encourage personal discovery and rediscovery
• to promote an open minded approach
• to offer a challenge to people who thought their days of an active outdoors lifestyle were over
• to overcome fears leading to personal development
• to develop skills which are transferable back to everyday life
• to have fun.

To be honest, I want to have fun and learn to ski when paralysed. At the risk of sounding arrogant, I'm fortunate enough to already feel integrated, motivated and aware of my abilities. I know I can do masses in a wheelchair. I know I can do more if I'm taught how. I'm not afraid of much (probably not such a great thing for my personal safety. Though I wouldn't like to learn to ski by myself). I don't need to be given challenges: I take them. No, I want to have fun and learn a new skill. I was planning to ski hard all day. The programme is: start at 9.30, ski till 1pm, have an hour for lunch - during which I'd be laying my head on a table to sleep - then ski from 2 to 4.30pm. Then sleep. Four days of this alone with a dedicated instructor, one day off (which would have been today, and I was going to go dog sledging), then another four days of skiing. Extraordinary.

Well, I'm just going to have to wait. Back-Up only go to Winter Park once a year and for £100 more than Sweden, I'd rather go to the States. I 'll be doing my full-time PGCE course in February 2010. I think I may just have to go outside for a while...

It ain't over till it's over

Stopped from the snow by the snow. How ironic. British Airways cancel the Philadelphia flight and can't tell us when we'll be able to leave. In the light of this uncertainty, Back-Up cancel the trip. Next chance to go skiing in Colorado? 2010. And that's assuming I can get away from my full time PGCE. I'm so upset. It's taken a lot of organisation to be able to go: saving the cash (selling books and DVDs on Amazon), sorting the childcare, getting fit (well, slightly), finding the gear. I'm home now and the kids are thrilled. I'm warmed by their love and touched by Annika's sadness for my missed adventure. Griffin suggests using the money saved to go on a Easter family trip to France. Brilliant idea. I'll start planning tomorrow. But at this moment, now that I've re-organised childcare for the next couple of days, I'm just going to allow myself to feel sad.

I may be some time

  I am just going outside... I should be landing in Denver, Colorado right now. But instead I have been skiing in the car park of the Crowne Plaza in Heathrow (as in the photo above). Yes, I have been caught up in the British Airways flight cancellation saga. No idea when I'll be leaving. Perhaps Wednesday, via Philadelphia. Until then, I am snuggling up in my tropical (30 degrees) hotel room, glad of soft white sheets and room service. Who knows, tomorrow I might see if any staff member is strong enough to lift me out of the swimming pool. I am, in theory, going skiing with Back-Up. Ten wheelchair users are scattered in the west London area, prepared for Winter Park. Many seem to be staying in less salubrious accommodation. I'm lucky. I had a super cheap deal to stay in four star luxury. Admittedly, now I have to stay extra nights, the price has gone up somewhat. But I have some great pay movies, many bars and a fold-down shower seat in my ensuite wet room. I'm not going outside just yet. 

Sliding and skating

Today a Boxing Day tradition: go with another family to the skating rink outside Winchester Cathedral. This year, I got on the ice. You have to be accompanied by a responsible adult but that's it. Before we arrived, I searched online to see if there was any guidance - do you have your brakes on? should you use cross country tyres? - but couldn't find anything. I thought it was worth wearing a chest strap. Falling out on the ice could be a comedy moment for spectators, but trying to get back in would be impossible. So I felt a mix of anxiety and excitement.

Yet it was amazing! My friend luckily didn't have to do anything with or for me. I say "luckily" because he turned out to be a terrible skater, more likely to crash into me than assist. So I wheel beside the kids, slipping only if I turn the corners too sharply. Apparently, it's best when the ice has just been scraped flat and has a sheen of water. In those conditions, you can skid and slide. But I don't care. To be able to skate beside the children, help them up when they fall, applaud their tricks - it's my best Christmas present. I even go free.

No more solo flying?

Read an alarming article in the latest issue of Disability Now. "A wheelchair user was denied the right to fly by herself by an airline that claimed new EU legislation meant she must be accompanied by a carer...The new legislation says that anyone unable to fasten their seatbelt, leave their seat and reach an emergency exit unaided should in most cases be accompanied". The EHRC is on the case and it raises some interesting issues. It seems to imply that I'll never be able to travel alone. So, what about independence? Not good. Not good at all.