Not so easy access - in the everyday matter of getting on a bus
Let’s just say - for fun, that today you can't walk very well. Hey, just to let everyone join in - this is an equal opportunities demonstration, after all, why not just tie your shoelaces tightly together so you have to hop everywhere. Now, with your laces tied, lift weights with both your arms and your legs until your limbs are shaking and painful, and just can't do any more. Feeling the burn? Good. Push past that, waaaayyy past it, and keep going until you are literally unable to control your arms or legs once you put down the weights. They are shaking and virtually powerless. You might have to pump iron all day, but keep going anyway so that when you try to stand up, or hold anything in your arms you just can’t do it due to a burning weakness. Now, for the rest of the experiment, keep your shoelaces tied together at a length that allows you some very small shuffling steps, but nothing more. And if you feel any strength return to your arms or legs, stop and pump iron again to keep with the authenitic feeling.
Now, ready? Good. Today, you win the prize of a trip into town to a friend’s party. All geared up to celebrate? You'd better be, because this is a very important day for your friend, and you don't want to let them down. Pick up the crutches, (since you now can’t walk unaided, you will be allowed simple walking aids for this experiment) and hop out the door, up the hill, around the corner and about 15 minutes down the street to the main road where the bus stop is. Yes, you may stop for breath several times.
OK, the bus will take about 20 minutes - you are out in zone six, did I mention that, where busses don't run all that regularly. This is where you have had to move to in order to find accessible housing. You are half way between Bexley and Bexleyheath, and can get a bus in either direction to get to a train station. You decide to head to Bexley because it’s only very slightly closer, but a huge road works detour make it a much quicker bus journey.Its a less accessible train station, and you will have to navigate some steps, but today you feel strong enough, and fancy saving the time.
This wait is tedious, because its, well, just frankly damn tedious, but it’s good because a 20 minute sit down will help you on the next challenge. You have to get on the bus and go 4 stops down the road to the train station. A good brisk walking distance for others, but not for you hopping along on crutches with aching arms and legs.
And .... finally, here’s the bus. On you hop. Did you get that, 'on you hop' I said. Why are you standing there, staring at the floor on the bus for, get your lazy feet UP there! Can't figure out how to do it? Aw, come on, it’s not that hard. Swing your body weight over to your left crutch, and swing your right arm and crutch up, so you are gripping the handle of the door. Now, grip hard with your right hand, and swing up your left crutch. Got it? Good. Now, cling to the door for dear life, and get your legs up too. You may have to go in knees first, and stand up once you are on the bus, depending on your strength in the moment, and the model of the bus, with variable distance from the ground. Perhaps one in 50 bus drivers will use their little magic controls to lower the suspension on the bus for you to make this easier like they would for a wheelchair or pram, but the other 49 won't.
Now tap in with your oyster card. It’s in your bag (obviously, you couldn't have it ready in your hand). Also, your hands are quite shaky now with the problem of actually getting on the bus itself, so make sure to go slowly. Resist the urge to rush, you will only slow the driver down even more if you drop it and need to get someone to pick it up for you.
Oh, sorry, no credit left on that oyster card. No, seriously? But I was really careful in my calculations, I should have at least 2 quid left, and when I get to the train station, I can top up.
No.
OK, deep breath, don’t panic, just pay with coins. Slowly, now, take out your coins from your bag and count them out. The bus driver is getting angrier and angrier with you every slow motion you make, but remember, the faster you go the more you will tremor. Managing little coins is a challenge for shaking hands. Finally, you have them counted out. Sorry, you are 10p short. You try a tiny bit of pleading. You are, after all, only going three stops down the road to a train station where you can top up. But to no avail. The bus driver is furious that you have delayed him by a few precious moments, so resolves that problem by making you take the time to get back off the bus again, and still won’t drop the suspension, so you have no choice but to carefully take your time getting off the bus so as not to fall and crack your head open on the deep step.
Right then. Here you are, standing on the edge of a major road, with residential houses on one side of you, and fields on the other. What to do? There is no way you could walk as far as Bexley, the town centre you were heading towards on the bus, but you could turn and walk in the other direction to Bexleyheath. This will bring you further away from a train station, (Because Bexleyheath train station isn’t actually in Bexleyheath town centre, silly, its almost 2 miles away from there) but this will leave you with a topped up oyster card on several major bus routes, so it’s not that bad. There’s a killer of a hill to be hopped up though. It’s a hard, painful walk, but you manage it, up the last of the hill, around the cinema and court house, and arrive at the main shopping street. Phew, hard, but you did it. Have a good long sit down on one of the public benches, and hop over to W H Smith, the main bookshop/post office/newsagents for the area.
Oh, so sorry, they don’t top up oyster cards.
You’re kidding, right? So, where do I go?
There’s a little newsagents beside ASDA, they are the only place in Bexleyheath that do it.
But ASDA is a HUGE distance away.
Shrug. Sorry.
There is nothing for it. On you go. As you manage the long walk up to the ASDA you try to rush. As you go you pass 2 police officers standing over a very elderly lady who has fallen over her zimmer frame and obviously given herself a bad blow to the head. You feel acutely sorry for her, in a way that is much greater than you would have before you ended up in this situation yourself, but she already has assistance, and an extra spectator won’t help her. On you hop. You stop trying to rush, though, and remind yourself that could be you, if you don’t act reasonably. Take your time, do the walk as you can. You arrive at the ASDA, having watched carefully for newsagents nearby, and there are none. This is confusing. You look around the back of the ASDA. None their either. Back to the main road. Feeling the frustration? Well, you are allowed one or too not overly vehement expletives at this stage. You may pause to mutter ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’ under your breath at this stage.
There is a greetings card /party tricks shop back down a good way. You could always try that, although it doesn’t fit your definition of what constitutes a ‘newsagent’, but there is nothing else to try. Here, a helpful sales assistant explains in more detail - the only place in Bexleyheath to top up oyster is the newsagent that you get to by going past ASDA, then past the row of shops after ASDA, then past the big church, and then on down a few shops more.
No kidding? Is there nowhere closer?
Sorry, No. That’s the only one.
Right, deep breath. Don’t panic. Over the road you go again. The lights change in your favour and you cross. The lights change back before you are over, but its OK, because this time drivers wait, and don’t start hooting at you. Past the ASDA. Past the shops. Past the church. And there it is. A newsagents! Woohoo! Finally, you have found it! Good for you. In you go.
Oh, wait. There is a shallow step, and then a very deep step, in a narrow doorway, and nothing that would constitute any kind of hand hold for you to grab on to so you can pull yourself up into this shop. You try gripping the door itself, but it just starts to swing on you as you put your weight on it. Try the wall on the other side. Its slippery, there is nothing to grip, but you do it. You are FINALLY actually INSIDE the correct shop. Well done. Might as well pick up a congratulations card for your friend here rather than in London Bridge, and a coke, and up to the till. With a big smile at your own success against the odds you ask for £20 credit on your Oyster. And offer your ATM card as payment. The young girl behind the till looks at you very dismissively.
‘We don’t TAKE cards’ she proclaims. You need to pay in cash.
You have GOT to be joking
Where is the nearest cash machine?
At the bank on the corner.
As in, the corner that’s back up past the row of shops, the church, the next row of shops, the ASDA, and over the junction? You may now offer another expletive.
But there is nothing you can do. You had already passed that bank, but didn’t think to take out cash as it didn’t occur to you that the only shop in Bexleyheath that has a connection to top up Oyster cards wouldn’t have one to allow people to pay by card.
Very slowly, you go back. And one of your many stops for breath is against the wall of the supermarket where you find yourself standing under a helpful sign telling you that the train station is exactly one mile from where you stand. That’s all you want. To be in that train station, exactly one mile from where you are. So you can get a train into central London and then the underground a few stops, and then join your friend for her celebration. But you become painfully aware of 2 things. Firstly, there is time. It is now over 2 hours since you left your house, and it will take at least another 2 to make the rest of your journey. The party is starting now. By the time you get into town they will be leaving the restaurant and heading to a pub, so your carefully planned route with minimal walking is out the window. Also, you are, in just getting to the bank machine, pulling your very last 'spoon' out of the drawer. On that last ‘spoon’ you could go home, or to the train station. But what would you do in a train station in a state of total collapse, not able to manage walking even with your crutches? There is a real risk that you would end up helplessly lying on the ground with strangers calling an ambulance for you, and all the bad that would follow that. So you make it across the road and take out cash - as this instance has reminded you it’s good to travel around London with twenty quid cash in your pocket - although on the other hand, with your shaking hands and tendency to drop things without even noticing, there is a flaw to that plan too. And you tend to travel with bank card rahter than cash for a reason. But onwards and upwards. From there you take the direct route home. And arrive back at your house almost 3 hours after having left. You went out of the estate, on to the main road, up around the town centre, and back down through the estate to get home. A healthy person could have jogged it in 20 minutes without breaking a sweat. It took you almost three hours, coupled with considerable anxiety and pain. Now you may crawl under your covers in bed to recover for an hour or two, but if you cry yourself to sleep, you are nothing but a wuss. And somewhere you must plan around the fact that, while you have cash now, your Oyster card is still empty, so to leave Bexleyheath at all, you will have to do at least part of this again. And equally, don’t forget, that this was a very major day for a very good friend, and you have let her down badly. Do not leave that out of your musings on the day either.
One thing that might be worth looking in to is some kind of formal complaint that the only vendor for Oyster card top ups in all of Bexleyheath is a totally inaccessible shop that no wheel chair user could enter, ever, and others with mobility difficulties risk life and limb trying to climb into. But who the hell would you even make such a complaint to?
Now, ready? Good. Today, you win the prize of a trip into town to a friend’s party. All geared up to celebrate? You'd better be, because this is a very important day for your friend, and you don't want to let them down. Pick up the crutches, (since you now can’t walk unaided, you will be allowed simple walking aids for this experiment) and hop out the door, up the hill, around the corner and about 15 minutes down the street to the main road where the bus stop is. Yes, you may stop for breath several times.
OK, the bus will take about 20 minutes - you are out in zone six, did I mention that, where busses don't run all that regularly. This is where you have had to move to in order to find accessible housing. You are half way between Bexley and Bexleyheath, and can get a bus in either direction to get to a train station. You decide to head to Bexley because it’s only very slightly closer, but a huge road works detour make it a much quicker bus journey.Its a less accessible train station, and you will have to navigate some steps, but today you feel strong enough, and fancy saving the time.
This wait is tedious, because its, well, just frankly damn tedious, but it’s good because a 20 minute sit down will help you on the next challenge. You have to get on the bus and go 4 stops down the road to the train station. A good brisk walking distance for others, but not for you hopping along on crutches with aching arms and legs.
And .... finally, here’s the bus. On you hop. Did you get that, 'on you hop' I said. Why are you standing there, staring at the floor on the bus for, get your lazy feet UP there! Can't figure out how to do it? Aw, come on, it’s not that hard. Swing your body weight over to your left crutch, and swing your right arm and crutch up, so you are gripping the handle of the door. Now, grip hard with your right hand, and swing up your left crutch. Got it? Good. Now, cling to the door for dear life, and get your legs up too. You may have to go in knees first, and stand up once you are on the bus, depending on your strength in the moment, and the model of the bus, with variable distance from the ground. Perhaps one in 50 bus drivers will use their little magic controls to lower the suspension on the bus for you to make this easier like they would for a wheelchair or pram, but the other 49 won't.
Now tap in with your oyster card. It’s in your bag (obviously, you couldn't have it ready in your hand). Also, your hands are quite shaky now with the problem of actually getting on the bus itself, so make sure to go slowly. Resist the urge to rush, you will only slow the driver down even more if you drop it and need to get someone to pick it up for you.
Oh, sorry, no credit left on that oyster card. No, seriously? But I was really careful in my calculations, I should have at least 2 quid left, and when I get to the train station, I can top up.
No.
OK, deep breath, don’t panic, just pay with coins. Slowly, now, take out your coins from your bag and count them out. The bus driver is getting angrier and angrier with you every slow motion you make, but remember, the faster you go the more you will tremor. Managing little coins is a challenge for shaking hands. Finally, you have them counted out. Sorry, you are 10p short. You try a tiny bit of pleading. You are, after all, only going three stops down the road to a train station where you can top up. But to no avail. The bus driver is furious that you have delayed him by a few precious moments, so resolves that problem by making you take the time to get back off the bus again, and still won’t drop the suspension, so you have no choice but to carefully take your time getting off the bus so as not to fall and crack your head open on the deep step.
Right then. Here you are, standing on the edge of a major road, with residential houses on one side of you, and fields on the other. What to do? There is no way you could walk as far as Bexley, the town centre you were heading towards on the bus, but you could turn and walk in the other direction to Bexleyheath. This will bring you further away from a train station, (Because Bexleyheath train station isn’t actually in Bexleyheath town centre, silly, its almost 2 miles away from there) but this will leave you with a topped up oyster card on several major bus routes, so it’s not that bad. There’s a killer of a hill to be hopped up though. It’s a hard, painful walk, but you manage it, up the last of the hill, around the cinema and court house, and arrive at the main shopping street. Phew, hard, but you did it. Have a good long sit down on one of the public benches, and hop over to W H Smith, the main bookshop/post office/newsagents for the area.
Oh, so sorry, they don’t top up oyster cards.
You’re kidding, right? So, where do I go?
There’s a little newsagents beside ASDA, they are the only place in Bexleyheath that do it.
But ASDA is a HUGE distance away.
Shrug. Sorry.
There is nothing for it. On you go. As you manage the long walk up to the ASDA you try to rush. As you go you pass 2 police officers standing over a very elderly lady who has fallen over her zimmer frame and obviously given herself a bad blow to the head. You feel acutely sorry for her, in a way that is much greater than you would have before you ended up in this situation yourself, but she already has assistance, and an extra spectator won’t help her. On you hop. You stop trying to rush, though, and remind yourself that could be you, if you don’t act reasonably. Take your time, do the walk as you can. You arrive at the ASDA, having watched carefully for newsagents nearby, and there are none. This is confusing. You look around the back of the ASDA. None their either. Back to the main road. Feeling the frustration? Well, you are allowed one or too not overly vehement expletives at this stage. You may pause to mutter ‘fuck’ or ‘shit’ under your breath at this stage.
There is a greetings card /party tricks shop back down a good way. You could always try that, although it doesn’t fit your definition of what constitutes a ‘newsagent’, but there is nothing else to try. Here, a helpful sales assistant explains in more detail - the only place in Bexleyheath to top up oyster is the newsagent that you get to by going past ASDA, then past the row of shops after ASDA, then past the big church, and then on down a few shops more.
No kidding? Is there nowhere closer?
Sorry, No. That’s the only one.
Right, deep breath. Don’t panic. Over the road you go again. The lights change in your favour and you cross. The lights change back before you are over, but its OK, because this time drivers wait, and don’t start hooting at you. Past the ASDA. Past the shops. Past the church. And there it is. A newsagents! Woohoo! Finally, you have found it! Good for you. In you go.
Oh, wait. There is a shallow step, and then a very deep step, in a narrow doorway, and nothing that would constitute any kind of hand hold for you to grab on to so you can pull yourself up into this shop. You try gripping the door itself, but it just starts to swing on you as you put your weight on it. Try the wall on the other side. Its slippery, there is nothing to grip, but you do it. You are FINALLY actually INSIDE the correct shop. Well done. Might as well pick up a congratulations card for your friend here rather than in London Bridge, and a coke, and up to the till. With a big smile at your own success against the odds you ask for £20 credit on your Oyster. And offer your ATM card as payment. The young girl behind the till looks at you very dismissively.
‘We don’t TAKE cards’ she proclaims. You need to pay in cash.
You have GOT to be joking
Where is the nearest cash machine?
At the bank on the corner.
As in, the corner that’s back up past the row of shops, the church, the next row of shops, the ASDA, and over the junction? You may now offer another expletive.
But there is nothing you can do. You had already passed that bank, but didn’t think to take out cash as it didn’t occur to you that the only shop in Bexleyheath that has a connection to top up Oyster cards wouldn’t have one to allow people to pay by card.
Very slowly, you go back. And one of your many stops for breath is against the wall of the supermarket where you find yourself standing under a helpful sign telling you that the train station is exactly one mile from where you stand. That’s all you want. To be in that train station, exactly one mile from where you are. So you can get a train into central London and then the underground a few stops, and then join your friend for her celebration. But you become painfully aware of 2 things. Firstly, there is time. It is now over 2 hours since you left your house, and it will take at least another 2 to make the rest of your journey. The party is starting now. By the time you get into town they will be leaving the restaurant and heading to a pub, so your carefully planned route with minimal walking is out the window. Also, you are, in just getting to the bank machine, pulling your very last 'spoon' out of the drawer. On that last ‘spoon’ you could go home, or to the train station. But what would you do in a train station in a state of total collapse, not able to manage walking even with your crutches? There is a real risk that you would end up helplessly lying on the ground with strangers calling an ambulance for you, and all the bad that would follow that. So you make it across the road and take out cash - as this instance has reminded you it’s good to travel around London with twenty quid cash in your pocket - although on the other hand, with your shaking hands and tendency to drop things without even noticing, there is a flaw to that plan too. And you tend to travel with bank card rahter than cash for a reason. But onwards and upwards. From there you take the direct route home. And arrive back at your house almost 3 hours after having left. You went out of the estate, on to the main road, up around the town centre, and back down through the estate to get home. A healthy person could have jogged it in 20 minutes without breaking a sweat. It took you almost three hours, coupled with considerable anxiety and pain. Now you may crawl under your covers in bed to recover for an hour or two, but if you cry yourself to sleep, you are nothing but a wuss. And somewhere you must plan around the fact that, while you have cash now, your Oyster card is still empty, so to leave Bexleyheath at all, you will have to do at least part of this again. And equally, don’t forget, that this was a very major day for a very good friend, and you have let her down badly. Do not leave that out of your musings on the day either.
One thing that might be worth looking in to is some kind of formal complaint that the only vendor for Oyster card top ups in all of Bexleyheath is a totally inaccessible shop that no wheel chair user could enter, ever, and others with mobility difficulties risk life and limb trying to climb into. But who the hell would you even make such a complaint to?