You have no idea how relieved I was to hear the intercom sound this morning. It meant everything was back to normal. I had worried that my home care – the ladies who put my shoes and socks on, and get me breakfast – weren’t coming due to the natural confusion caused by summer. But no, Julie came at 9 a.m. prompt, smiling. We have known each other for a year, but we met like old friends after along absence. It meant all was well, and the day would be good. If she hadn’t shown, Esther would have had to give me breakfast, wasting valuable time sorting things out for the new year.

Here’s where it went wrong. I had been promised that the intersite bus would be fully accessible, but I decided to verify this by rolling over to the bus stop, Esther in tow. We waited for 5 minutes, and the bus came. I then realised I had more chance of riding a woolly mammoth to Crewe – the bus was an ancient double decker with steps up to it and a bar in the middle of the entrance. I wasn’t happy.

Nor, for that matter, was Andy Grey. I went directly to the head of the Students Union, who seemed to take personal umbridge at what I told him. Although I explained that Bill could drive me over, he said, ”That’s not the point.” It seemed to grieve him personally, as if he’d just discovered some terrible scandal.

That, however, is my point. People – most people – do not realise the type of problems disabled people face, bringing about a type of discrimination through negligence. The promises of accessible transport hadn’t been acted upon, and it was only when I brought this matter to Andy’s attention that he went and sorted it.