Brussels:
In the hotel bar the night before, I had encountered Yuri (a Russian tourist) and Rob, a Dutch coach driver who was driving Yuri, his family and several others, around Belgium and Luxemburg. It turned into a very interesting evening. Rob said, ‘If you want to leave, then just leave!’, and of course this sums up how lots of folk feel about Brexit. The Russian view, that evening, was colored by Yuri’s Crimean heritage. The only Ukrainian I could name was a footballer (this is often the way). The little history I know about his area of the Russian state comes from Simon Sebag Montefiore’s book about the Romanovs; it seems fraught. The complexities of Brexit seemed mild compared to the armed struggles in that region.

Anyway, Friday 29th March, the day the UK was due to leave the EU. I wanted to be there, at the EU parliament, to see if I could find out a bit more about the place everyone seems so excited about.

It was closed!

I managed to pick up a taxi in Rogier Plaza, and a very nice Moroccan dropped me off right at the entrance to the Visitor Information Centre, ‘Away from all the tourist busses and car park,’ he said. His view of the EU was that it had brought prosperity to the city, and this was very evident in all the frantic development going on all around me. Inside I was told that the only part of the massive complex I could gain access to was the Parliamentarium – 360 degree multimedia experience adjacent to the visitors center. I thanked the guide and tapped my way across the road where I was helped into a seat and handed the coffee and croissant I very much needed.

I was learning that it was not enough to just turn up at the front door and expect to be able work it out by following the clues. In the past I would have been able to poke around and gain a good feeling for the place, I would have devoured any leaflets and written information.

Visiting the European Parliament is a great way to find out about its work as the voice of European Union citizens, and about the impact it makes across both Europe and the world.

It says on its website. Yes, well maybe. But this challenge was too much for me. Once again I retreated to a safe space – this time a Hop On Hop Off bus – and worked my way back to The Hotel des Colonies, listening to the excellent audio commentary. A nap, an early dinner in the usual place and a few drinks in the hotel bar.

I don’t want to sound defeated, I’m not. And I want this blog to be encouraging to other VI travellers. But, clearly, I had much to learn. Goodness knows how anyone with no vision manages. I had spent years pretending that I didn’t have a problem, well, now I have a problem.

Surely I can work out how to keep on the road, visiting new places safely.

Return trip:
My return home was not without it’s excitements! When I arrived, early, at Brussels Midi I was reliably told, ‘You should go and find a hotel for the night. All trains are cancelled’.

I couldn’t bare the thought of wandering the streets around the railway station looking for a room so I stayed where I was, in an area I had been guided to by very helpful EuroStar staff and kept my fingers crossed. Apparently, some crazy Brexiteer had decided to grind the system to a halt by climbing onto the (electrified) rail bridges out of St Pancras. Maybe he thought EuroStar was the EU equivalent of the Star Wars Death Star, and he would register his dissatisfaction without having to leave London. I was very lucky to get on the first train out of Brussels that Saturday and managed to work my way through the chaos in St Pancras, onto the train in Kings Cross and home to Edinburgh.

Lessons learned, time to reflect. Time to plan a better approach.

I was humbled by the kindness of strangers, and the helpful staff at EuroStar, but I wasn’t impressed by the way the world is designed. The challenges for people with disabilities are many and various – I imagine lots of people just give up and stay home (and who could blame them). It must become a priority for the people that lay out our cities and transport hubs to make these critical (and usually busy) spaces more easy to negotiate. I’m starting to feel like I’m a campaigner, that I’m on a mission. But I’m not. I’m just determined to do as much as I can to explore our world without risking life and limb.

Time for a rest.

Hasta pronto!

Note: you can read about my problems on arrival at Edinburgh Waverly in a previous blog Post ( London (&Edinburgh!), Posted on 4th April)

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Brussels:
The next day’s plan had been, I now realize, ambitious. I was planning to explore Brussels – in a day! I got no further than the area around the Hotel des Colonies, The Boston Steakhouse (where I ended up the first night) and the hotel bar.

On my first night in Brussels I had managed to find the Steakhouse, right outside the hotel, and, later, had sat on my own in the hotel bar. Well, I say alone, the barman kept on checking I was okay (and topping up my Cognac glass and opening bottles of strange, very strong, Belgium beer for me).

I knew I would need to try harder, so I asked the receptionist if there was an ATM, and how did I get to the main square, ‘ATM across the road and just follow the boulevard to get to the Grand Plaza’, he mumbled whilst juggling requests from three different hotels.

I couldn’t find the ATM and when I walked down the street the hotel was on I was totally freaked-out by the chaos of a new city. I decided to scale back my ambitions and try to find a coffee and a croissant.
The street (Boulevard du Jardin Botanique) was busy,  but very different to the described in my ’79 Frommer’s. In fact I couldn’t recognize the area around Place Rogier from the description in my guidebook; [it]’… stands at the head of the garish … main street of Brussels … [and] is for those of you who like action and excitement, neon signs and bustling sidewalk cafes’. The buildings were glass and steel, International architectural in style, and most of them were covered in scaffolding that extended onto the pavement. This all made getting around a little difficult.

I was too nervous to attempt a crossing of the main Boulevard (I never once found a crossing point with lights for pedestrians) so I rattled around metal barriers until someone took pity on me and helped me into a café. By the time I had been guided to a table and served (by the same kind person) I felt tears of frustration and humiliation welling up inside me).

I’m just not used to coping with so many new hazards; at home I know where the dangers lie and can concentrate on any unexpected new ones. Here, I was in a noisy world of barriers, rushing strangers, unknown streets. I needed to get a grip of my emotions, panicking wouldn’t help. I settled myself down and focused on enjoying the excellent coffee.

Once outside again I felt much better; although I did have an embarrassing incident in a deli, where I had set off all the alarms by trying to go out the IN door (flashing light, closing doors and a startled security guard who didn’t know whether I was trying to get out without paying or was just a stupid tourist). I wobbled my was around the rest of the Place Rogier, trying to familiarize myself with the area. I noticed that there were good tactile guide signs on the pavements leading up to hazards like crossing points, and if I just stepped out onto the streets around the Square the cars and busses just stopped to let me cross; I’m sure there must be a less scary way to cross streets in Brussels.

After all this effort I never managed to get any sightseeing done. I was exhausted and retired to my room to plan for my visit to the EU parliament the next day. Happily the vending machine in the lobby of the hotel(s) had cans of beer.

After my nap I went back to the safe option of The Boston Steakhouse followed by the hotel bar. This time I was lucky and found a Russian tourist and a Dutch coach driver who were happy to talk to me.

I will save that story for the next Post – EuroStar & Brussels part 4.

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I was all set for three days in Brussels. This trip had a double significance for me. Firstly, it was the start of me getting my independence back (testing the limits of this new challenge), but, secondly, I was out to seek a clearer vision on Europe (you can follow that thread by clicking on the X-It Category).

Brussels:
On arrival in Brussels Midi I felt like everything would be fine. However, I soon realized how challenging this trip was going to be …
The platform was narrow, scattered with various hazards and poorly signposted. One needs to get a lift down to the ground floor and I actually only managed to find this out with the help of some Japanese tourists.

Once outside the front of the station there was a taxi rank, but no one seemed very keen. I guess they had dealt with the main rush and weren’t expecting someone to be so far behind the crowds. One of the drivers eventually took my case and disappeared – he seemed totally unmoved by my obvious limitations. I find this sometimes, people either go out of their way to be helpful or they make little or no concessions to your difficulties. I didn’t help matters much by trying to pay for the cab with a 50 kroner (Swedish) note, and then questioning him because he seemed to be dropping me off outside the wrong hotel in, what was essentially, a dodgy back ally.
I eventually found the 50 Euro note I thought I had placed strategically in my wallet (I always line my notes up in increasing denominations to make it easier) and established that the Hotel des Colonies had more than one entrance (all named for different parts of the building).

I had chosen the Hotel des Colonies from the selection offered in the, ‘Rooms for the ‘Big Splurge’’ section of my Frommer’s Europe on $10 a Day guide (1979). The book suggested that it was a, ‘ …rather ancient building that’s seen better days’ (sort of like me). Evidently, little had changed in the ensuing forty years!

But I was committed to this template for my European adventure. I was determined to find the Europe I would recognized from my youth, I wanted to see how things had changed but I also wanted to see what was left of pre-EU Europe. The whole venture depends on finding links from the past, tracing fault lines, finding the upside. What could go wrong? I had my 1979 guide book, a sprit of adventure, and faith in our brave new interconnected world.

I was warned at reception to be careful with the panel in the lift, and in fairness it did look as if it was a relic. After my first, rather alarming, assent – where I had to guess my way around the various additional card readers, chipped buttons, and obscure instructions – I used the stairs for the rest of my time in the hotel.

I soon discovered the limitations of my living space and the fact that there was no dining option but I will save that story for the next Post – EuroStar & Brussels part 3.

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After a few days in London I was all set for three days in Brussels (see X-it Wounds Category). This time I would be traveling alone – my first trip alone, with just my White Cane and the kindness of strangers to assist me.

EuroStar:
I was booked on the 15:04 train out of St Pancras. No problem I thought, I knew the station was just across the road from Kings Cross (where I had seen Susan off, as she was going back up to Edinburgh). As soon as I engaged with the check-in process I was put into some seats set aside for folks requiring assistance. I pleaded my case for independence and was allowed to go through security under my own steam.

People are at their most stressed in these security systems (phones, keys and everything else, including any belts with metal buckles, need to be abandoned) . It’s all very confusing if you are slow and can’t tell where everything is – ‘Over here’, ‘Stand there’ instructions just don’t work if you can’t see where the person is pointing. Eventually, a staff member took my arm, whisked me through passport control and took me to the area in the departure lounge set aside for people that need assistance. Sometimes it’s very difficult to maintain independence, and once you hand over control to someone else you lose any chance of taking things at your own pace. Obviously, this will depend on your degree of difficulty. I imagine many people are very grateful for assistance, and having staff on hand that can help when required is great. But I like to go at my own pace, where I can learn the lay-out of a space and make my own decisions. I’m still learning about this scary new world, where everything is designed for the visually able and disabilities are a problem to be contained and managed.

When my train was called I found the Gate the staff had told me the train would depart from (using my monocular for the first time) and joined the crowd. I was asked to go to the lift for disabled access but stuck it out with the crowds. Getting up to the trains is fairly straightforward – follow the crowd – but once on the platform it gets a bit tricky as it’s every man and woman for themselves. I had set out in the wrong direction but a woman seeing my confusion insisted in guiding me to my carriage. I would have been okay but, in fairness, I probably looked totally helpless. Once in my seat it was lovely and relaxing and a most enjoyable journey.

I have to compliment the St Pancras EuroStar terminal. It is quite well laid out (good lighting, smooth surfaces) and the staff (plenty of them) were all very helpful. I think I might start to award marks out of 10 for each event center – this one gets a 7 from me (I will refine this rating system as I learn).

Brussels:
On arrival in Brussels Midi I felt like everything would be fine. However, I soon realized how challenging this trip was going to be …

I will save that story for the next Post – EuroStar & Brussels part 2.

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I have just returned from a few days travelling: London followed by three days in Brussels. I thought you might be interested in my experiences (and thoughts).

Whilst in London I had the assistance of my wife (Susan), but the rest of the trip was undertaken as a solo traveler. What a difference it makes to have someone to keep you away from the traffic!
I’ve visited London on many occasions over the years, but this was the first time I was armed with a white cane. The differences are legion.

Edinburgh:
Finding the train in Waverly was easy, we both know the station well and, although they keep on moving things around, we coped.

Returning to Waverly was much more challenging. I was (as usual) almost last off the train and found myself abandoned at the far end of the station with no-one to guide me. There is almost no signage and it was only because I know the place that I managed to find my way onto the central concourse and up to the Taxi rank. Worst taxi rank in Europe?

I managed to find the starting point for the rank (I asked a rather drunk young lady who was trying to find her purse and she confirmed that I was in the right place). However, as I stood there, even I could see that people were running past me and picking up cabs before they worked their way forward. How is this acceptable. What kind of people (and there were a number of them, and a number of cabs that facilitated their needs over mine) would steal taxis from under the nose of an old man with a white cane?

London:
It’s busy but most of the pavements, in the areas around Leicester Square and the main tourist spots, are level and the crossing points were well adapted to our needs.

Each attraction has its different challenges, but I would save a special mention for The Prince of Wales theatre on Coventry Street. The staff were very helpful, for example, we were advised to take the lift to avoid stairs inside the theatre and the usher had radioed ahead to his college on the next level and we were expected and guided to our seats. The toilets, however, were difficult – lots of little steps up and down, big queues and difficult internal layout. I was assisted by a kind stranger on my initial visit but had to abandon my intermission drink (paid for and sitting in the bar waiting for me) because I ran out of time on a return visit. I would advise avoiding the bar as it was full of hazards (e.g. pianos on raised platforms) and the alcohol will only make you want to go back to the toilet at half time! I never found the disabled toilets, as I like to use the ordinary ones, but I’m sure they have some.

Covent Garden Market area is well marked out and felt relatively safe but a bit to busy to stand anywhere without getting in someone’s way. Any steps (pavements etc) are marked with white lines and there are plenty of ramps.

The Barbican Centre is well laid out but there are lots of stairs and the lifts take you away from the main areas. It is worth making sure you know where you’re going.

I’ll save the story of my Eurostar trip to Brussels for the next Post.

Note: I’m just finding my way around. Hopefully some of this blog (as it develops) will be helpful, encouraging, and entertaining.

All comments welcome.

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