State of the Meh...

[davidgillon]

I've been back home since a week last Thursday, and not really back into the routine of I live here yet. I know I do poorly with disrupted routines, but I seem to be having a harder time of it this year. Mostly I've been goofing off and playing computer games (Ark and Xcom II). And DW got caught up in my repeated pattern of "Oh, I didn't do that yesterday. I should have done that yesterday. Now I'm too stressed by that to do it today". Helpful that isn't.

I didn't actually see that much of Dad while I was up as times I can get a lift to get over to the home now tend to be times he's asleep, but we did have a good session with him on his birthday (82) and a solid couple of hours on my last day.

The train trip back from Durham was the usual adventure: 

PA: "Hi, this is is the train manager. If you're wondering why the train is currently stationary, we've just been told that the train ahead of us has hit a herd of cows just north of Doncaster station. We may be here for a while."

45 minutes later: "We've now been given permission to  proceed slowly. The train ahead apparently hit three cows and while the track has now been cleared, those who may find these things distressing may want to avoid looking out of the windows for the next few minutes."

Which of course meant half the people on the train promptly plastered themselves against the windows. "It was definitely cows," to quote the young mum opposite.

That meant we were about 55 minutes late into London, so I should be able to claim part of the fare back, and unfortunately pushed me into rush-hour traffic on the leg from London to Rochester. That's really not my idea of fun, but at least I'm guaranteed a seat. No problems with wheelchair assistance this time, but I do need to talk to LNER (the new train operating company for the East Coast Main Line) about problems with luggage around the wheelchair spaces making it impossible to access the accessible toilet.  I got a taxi for the final leg of the journey as usual and the taxi driver was able to prove that, contrary to my previous belief, it is possible to fit my chair in the boot of a Prius (which 90% of the local taxi drivers use). It's incredibly tight (because the Prius boot is very shallow given the batteries underneath it), but if you push the chair right up against the back seat, and take one wheel off, and very gingerly press down on the hatchback (given the glass is touching the chair) it will lock. Just. Seriously, Toyota, if the taxi role is a big part of the Prius' market, you may want to look at the boot design!

Comments

[hilarita]

Train companies seem to have this massive blind spot around luggage. I am particularly irked by it on the train between Birmingham and Stansted Airport. At the Birmingham end, I think it also calls at International (I can't remember, because I usually get off at Nuneaton), so basically everyone has suitcases because they're about to go on holiday. And there is nowhere near enough space for that much luggage. I know commuters don't have much luggage, but the long distance train lines have a lot of people with luggage. And, as a consequence, there's all this lovely apparently unused space, which is where wheelchair users end up having to compete with the luggage. Arrrrggggh.

[davidgillon]

Absolutely, ECML carries a huge percentage of people with significant luggage, and the first luggage rack they come to is about 30cm wide at one side, 60cm at the other, and under a metre across. And right next to it are the semi-empty spaces for the two wheelchair spaces. Even when they use the rack I have to watch they like a hawk, or they'll be putting in cases and baby buggies* that stick out and block the doorway so I can't get through it to the toilet.

* On the trip up it was initially pretty crowded as people got themselves sorted out and a woman with a baby buggy twice side-swiped it into my chair as I sat in the wheelchair space. I have no idea what she thought she could achieve, but at least the second time was definitely deliberate and I had to tell her not to do it again.