We’ve been traveling with a wheelchair for a few years, now, but thanks to a pandemic we’d never made it farther than Canada before this summer. I felt like we’ve gotten pretty good at preparing for obstacles, and knowing how to hurdle them.
I was wrong. Europe is a different world when it comes to wheelchair travel. Nothing went smoothly. Nothing was seamless. But… we still had an incredible trip! Here are the biggest things we learned along the way.
1. The “Accessible” Bus is Not What You Think It Is
We were happy to find that many cities marked their bus routes with the universal wheelchair sign to indicate accessible routes or stops. Some buses were even labeled, so there was no confusion with trying to board.
I thought that would mean one of the buses that lowers to the curb, or one that has a ramp that can be put out for boarding.
Sometimes that was the case. We did ride a few buses with a ramp that could be opened if the driver could get the crowds to stop standing on it long enough to get to it.
In most cases, it simply meant there were no stairs… or at least no more than one stair… to get in.
It was rough! Almost every bus stop required assistance. We weren’t able to roll on/off. Our independence level plummeted, and we relied on the kindness of strangers to help with lifting the chair over a large curb gap and up onto the bus. Thankfully, we didn’t miss many rides; but, our ability to ride the bus was solely dependent on the helpfulness of the people around us.
2. ADA is Not Universal
This is a little like the last idea, but it extends much further.
Each country we visited had some sort of ADA regulations in place. Some were more similar to what we’re used to in the States, and some seemed hardly worthwhile at all. For example, we were told that any building in Novi Sad that surpasses six floors is required to put in an elevator. Six floors. So, most buildings are six floors or less, and there are no elevators.
We saw buildings with ramps that led to walls, and walkways with ramps at impossible slopes. In some places, I got the idea that ADA was anything that didn’t have a lot of steps (though one or two were ok).
3. Independence is Priceless
Because of the barrier-full environment, my son’s independence plummeted. Things that he would normally do on his own, required getting his chair up steep slopes, over steps, or through rocks and cobblestones. There was a new reliance on the people around him that was required. This is frustrating for a six year old who already has power struggles because of wanting to do everything on his own. I can’t imagine how it must feel for an adult who’s used to being fully independent.
4. People Are Inclusion’s Biggest Asset
I’ve experienced this traveling in the States, too. When the elevator was down in the NYC Subway, a busy stranger took the time to help me carry the wheelchair up two flights of stairs. When we couldn’t get inside a building where we needed to purchase tickets, another stranger went in and got them for us.
Where barriers are more abundant, so is the need for human kindness. Thankfully, we were never let down. As soon as we got stuck, every time, someone offered help. There was always someone to help me get the chair off of the bus, or into the shop, or down the escalator (yikes!).
This is a great reminder that as much as we push for policy changes, building awareness for an inclusive society is just as important!
5. Perception is Life-Changing
When we started asking about the lack of inclusion and resources in some places, the answers were astounding. In some places, accessibility isn’t a priority because the disabled aren’t a priority. No, worse: they don’t matter at all. We spoke with a woman whose mother hadn’t been out of the house for six years. This was partly because it’s so difficult to navigate the city, but also because she isn’t welcome. In some places, the disabled are less than secondary citizens. They’re avoided on the streets, asked to leave public buses, and treated as though the “disease” could spread.
I can’t dissect this in this article. It’s still a lot to wrap my mind around. It was a sickening reminder that the journey to an inclusive world is going to be a long one.
**I cannot speak for all of Europe, since we were only in six countries, and experienced vast differences even in those few countries. Paris was much more accessible than Novi Sad, for example. Most other places fell somewhere in between.**