I’m feeling rather pleased with myself this evening. I got rather lost this afternoon: continuing my ongoing efforts to get out of London a bit more, I caught a bus to Orpington. On the map it looked pretty close to the M25, so I assumed that once I got there I could just trundle beyond the city limits and down into Kent. The problem was, I quickly found out that the distances in question were much larger than they looked, and although I was pleased to get a few glimpses of farmland, after a while I began to wonder how I was going to get home. 

While I think I was still within the M25, I had stopped seeing any London buses. Just as I was beginning to suspect that getting home was going to be a struggle though, I came across a small, quiet train station called Knockholt. It struck me that it would be worth seeing whether I could get a train back into the metropolis: it was a bit of a long shot, but I didn’t have anything to lose. 

The problem was , rolling into the station, barely more than a dilapidated shack, I couldn’t find any staff. I gathered from the map on the wall that I could get a train from there to Lewisham, from where getting home wouldn’t be an issue; but for that I needed to find someone who I could ask about wheelchair ramps. Ordinarily I roll up to a member of station staff and tap out what I need and where I want to go on my iPad, but there wasn’t anyone in sight.

However, on the wall I noticed one of those round things were you can press a button to request help. I had never used one before as I assumed that I would have to speak verbally into it, which would be problematic. Would they be able to hear my speech synthesiser? And if the person I’m talking to can’t see me, how will they know that I’m typing into my Ipad in order to communicate with them. This afternoon though, wanting to get home in reasonably good time, I decided to give it a try; and to be honest it went surprisingly well. The lady on the other end was patient, giving me time to type and then informing me that she would arrange someone to come on the next train to help me with the ramps. Twenty minutes or so later, the train arrived, a young woman in a high viz vest got out to help me aboard, and I was soon speeding my way back into the metropolis I had just been endeavouring to find my way out of. It went pleasingly smoothly, and I immediately decided that I ought to blog about it.  

Something that I had assumed would be difficult had  once again turned out to be remarkably straightforward; panic had given way to relief, and then pride. I had mastered yet another of those systems everyone else seems to find routine. While you can say that it was just a matter of me getting onto a train and nothing to get too worked up over, the fact that I was able to communicate with the lady over the intercom and get the assistance I needed is enough to demonstrate that such things are possible. By breaking down such barriers, it feels like my world just grows bigger and bigger.