Category: Humour

Where else could you see someone dancing with a lizard? It’s not something I’ve ever seen before and I watch Britain’s Got Talent every year. I should point out, in case you are picturing a lizard doing a two-step on its hind legs, that the lizard is held in the man’s arms. In reality that’s no different to holding a child and dancing. It just isn’t something you see every day.

Wellington is a brilliant place, one of the best places we have lived. Lovely people, excellent facilities and lots of activities. All wrapped up in a small package. They say, ‘Good things come in small packages.’ We live just off the High Street and you could not be nearer to the shops, dentist, doctor, optician, park and restaurants. This blog is about the park, which is not far from us and very accessible. Lovely smooth wide paths. The only bit I can’t access is the bridge and waterfall.

Every Sunday afternoon during June, July and August from 2:30 till 4:30pm the Friends of Wellington Park (FOWP) lay on a musical extravaganza. OK so maybe I am using hyperbole there, but it is fun. Not every week will suit every person, there’s a programme to tell you what’s on. I’m not sure that a man on an organ is quite my thing. But jazz, country and western, brass bands, rock and roll, and pop are. I am fairly eclectic, actually my spell checker nearly made me eccentric and maybe that’s nearer the truth. But I do like variety, some would just say I get bored easily.

One Sunday afternoon, we joined a brave group of folks to shelter from the weather and listen to some Country and Western. The shelters, of which there are quite a few, were very full. We couldn’t even squash into the tent designated for wheelchairs and scooters. Although I should point out we arrived late, as it took extra time to get me ready after lunch. So, we hid under the trees behind the disabled tent and under a brolly and waterproof covers. A lovely lady from the FOWP, who always seems to spot us and help, directed us to a gap in another tent. I squeezed into the edge and Mary sat behind me. As usual Mary spent time moving things around to make space for my wheelchair, before she could sit down. We still needed some waterproofing for the rain that blew in and we didn’t really enjoy being behind each other rather than beside each other. But at least we had some protection from the rain as it decided to really pour down. Have you noticed how in England we have so many ways of describing rain? Pouring, dripping, damping, drizzle, hammering, misting, torrential etc. Anyone would think it rains a lot here.

Our son in law is from Utah, where it’s so dry that if you leave biscuits or cereal out, they get dryer. Whenever he visits us it seems to rain. He just seems to miss all our long hot dry spells. Yes, those long hot dry spells that you’re just forgetting about because of all the recent rain. One time when he was here, we explained that leaving biscuits out of the box here overnight would make them soggy. Finding that concept hard to grasp after Utah, we suggested he try it. He was amazed how soggy a biscuit becomes here overnight when left out. Perhaps we should return to a rather wet park in Wellington.

The music was great, toe tapping (in my head) fun, punctuated by the occasional bark from a couple of dogs that a family nearby had brought to enjoy the music. I’m not sure the music was improved by the punctuation and the barks were very sharp and sudden. There was also the odd drift of cigarette smoke from just outside the tent. I am sure that the person smoking was trying their best not to inconvenience anyone, but smoke has a way of going where it will. Smoke is not ideal for my chest. FOWP have setup a smoking tent at quite some distance from the other tents, but I think these smokers were probably with their family and thought being outside the tent was enough, it wasn’t.

It must seem like the worlds against you as a smoker, ostracized, frowned upon, pushed away. I was a smoker many years ago, so I have some sympathy. The problem is with the nature of smoking, its too extensive in its generous spread of smoke. When one person smokes everyone around joins in with their experience. It’s like music, except the thing being shared abroad is carcinogenic, smelly and unhealthy. If the smoke was just going down the smoker’s lungs, then that’s their free choice and they have a right to make it. But they don’t have a right to make that choice for everyone else. The worst part is that everyone else only gets the unfiltered smoke. Anyway, rant over, you can see I object to being forced to breath smoke, especially as it is bad for my chest.

At last the rain let up and the sun came out. Mary and I moved to a more spacious and smoke free spot. I was able to recline my wheelchair more fully and we had a good view of the area in front of the bandstand. This area is often used for dancing. Line dancing on country and Western music events, other types of dancing at other times. Well let’s be honest, line dancing gets a look in at almost every style of music.

One time I was brought to the music in the park by one of my carers when Mary was on a respite break. I jokingly said she ought to join the line dancing. It was only afterwards that I realised how lucky I was to have a carer who wouldn’t turn the tables on me and take my wheelchair onto the dance floor. I feel embarrassed enough being in a wheelchair without using it to dance. That is spin the chair around on the dance floor. I never danced when I could walk. Correction, none of my efforts could be classified as dancing when I could walk. I particularly came to realise what a near miss I had when I saw another wheelchair on the dance area, spinning around, going up and down and having a great time. They were really enjoying themselves. I would have just been mortified. I am very shy, no matter how it may appear otherwise. If you meet me in person and more and more people are, you will see for yourself.

It was in the dance area that we watched the dancing lizard. You knew that I would get there eventually. One of my blog readers tells me that however much I digress, I always seem to get back to the point where I started. Of course, most Wellingtonians will not be in the least surprised reading about dancing lizards. The lizard owner is probably your neighbour, friend, family, work colleague or dance partner. You may be the man himself thinking ‘why is Mike writing about me?’ But anyone reading this from elsewhere may have a moment’s pause and think, ‘A dancing lizard?’. I remember the first time I saw the man dancing with his lizard I thought ‘fair enough, a dancing gecko, why not?’ Then I looked up gecko on Google and realised it wasn’t a gecko. But it is some kind of lizard. I may have also fleetingly thought, ‘why is he dancing with a lizard?’ The lizard always looks very happy and cosy, snuggled against his chest. I haven’t seen the lizard move in time to the music, but maybe it does, perhaps it does the odd head dive at appropriate moments and I just miss it.

I have blogged before about the refreshments at the music in the park. How many places do you know where the price on the ice cream are lower than you pay, unless the shop makes a big song and dance about it being a sale, or special offer. In the park their price is 70p for an ice cream that says 75p on it! Nothing about special offers or sales, that’s just the price. Don’t get me started on the massive pack of mini Cheddars for 50p, it’s a steal. I’ve just thought, I hope no one from Friends of Wellington Park is reading this, or next time the price will go up. Hey guys from FOWP, it’s really expensive your food and drink, I think you should leave it at that price. Phew! I think I got away with it this time.

I think everywhere we have lived has had its fair share of special places, people and activities. But Wellington really does stand tall in comparison. Despite the occasional inconvenience, this town is brilliant. The park really makes it for me, and the summer entertainment is a massive highlight that we look forward to each year.

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A year ago, Mary was in Sheffield, I was in Popham Court Nursing home on respite. The weather was scorching hot and a previous carer and family took me around the Wellington Street fair.

Today as I lie in bed looking out at the rain, dressed and ready to transfer to my wheelchair, I don’t feel as keen. Rain is running down the windows and dripping from the overhangs. I can hear it hitting the conservatory roof whenever Mary opens the kitchen door. She is busy getting ready for us to go out. I’ve mentioned before, going out when you are disabled is no simple matter.

“Oh, the poor Wellington Majorettes, I can hear them outside. They must be getting soaked.”  Says Mary when she opens the front door to put something out. Our alley opens onto the High Street and sounds from the Street Fair reverberate up it.

I also feel sorry for them, but I’m considering how wet I will get. I have a very good set of waterproofs for my wheelchair, but some rain normally gets in. There is also a restriction in being cocooned in polyester sheeting. Everyone I meet normally says how cosy I look, or comments on how I have the right idea, being so wrapped up. Maybe they should try it.  At least it’s warm today, so I can wear less layer’s underneath. One time I tried out a waterproof covering for a mobility scooter, it had a see-through front section. I pointed out to my carers that if I used that I would have to be careful what I wore underneath. You see when I am wrapped up in my normal non see-through waterproofs, I could be in my swimming trunks underneath. Some days in Britain that might be a good idea. That’ll get you wondering if you see me on a wet day.

We were planning to set off in time to join the Baptist Church for their outside Gospel Choir singing, I wonder if it will move inside, I hope so. Our original plan was a leisurely trip on route there looking at the stalls, I think it will be a lot quicker now.

Hoist into the wheelchair and wrapped like a cocoon ready to venture out. I take my normal tortuous route from lounge to kitchen, do a little twirl in the kitchen. Not because I like dancing, but because that’s the only way to get out of the next door. Through the kitchen door into what was once our dining room and is now just a utility room and out of the front door. Mary puts the bag onto the back of the wheelchair. Which can’t be left on in the house, it gets in the way.

Hey presto! The rain has blown away and the sun is struggling to make a showing, in between the odd shower. We make it to the Baptist Church in time for the start, but obviously the earlier rain has delayed preparations. They are outside.

“One, two, one two, testing.” Comes from the speakers at varying volumes. Assuming that isn’t the Gospel choir we get a free coffee and for Mary, a cake. Some time later the choir start and are well worth the wait. The only problem being that my body needs food at regular intervals. By the time the music starts it’s getting well past my lunchtime. We stay for a short time but must return home so that I can eat. It’s back through the whole process of wheelchair manoeuvres and hoisting to get back into bed, that way I can rest after eating, for today has another activity in store.

There is a double treat, not only Wellington Street fair, but the first day of open-air music at Wellington Park. Something that happens every Sunday afternoon June, July and August 2:30 till 4:30pm. They have refreshments that are probably the cheapest I have ever found at such an event. Tea, coffee, mini cheddars and ice creams. Oh yes, the music is great too.

After lunch and a rest, it’s back into the wheelchair and through the circuitous route out of our house. As we leave the house, we follow the strong drumbeat of a street performance. It’s a clever job Mary makes of weaving through the crowd to view the drummers and dancers. Or should I say ‘proper job’ as we are in Somerset. I can feel the drumbeat moving not only my body but my whole wheelchair. Quite some beat to move 250kg. Most of that being the chair of course, I think that must weigh at least 200 of the kg’s.

After having our innards shaken for a while in the High Street, we weave our way to the park. Because of the suspect weather, it keeps raining on and off, there are more shelters than usual, and we find a covered area for Mary to sit next to me. The band is excellent, one of the best I have heard at the park, the Taunton Concert Band. I am listening to them as I write this. Hang on, let me just applause that last piece from ‘Dances with wolves.’ Tea break now.

The rain has just re started heavily. It must have taken pity on the conductor who was the only member of the band not covered and kept off till the break. I do love Wellington Park, especially in summer during these performances. There is a banner being held up for a ‘tree walk’ they do this in the intermission. It’s a guided walk around the park telling its history and about the horticulture. Mary has gone to get us a drink, or did she say she was looking at the book stall. We will soon see. Oo, Mary has bought some books, now she is off back again to the stall. Ah! She’s bought me a pack of mini cheddars and a cup coffee.

The rain is increasing I think I had better move more under cover. I have my feet up so that my head, which was covered by the trees is stuck out of the tent. As the rain picked up, the odd raindrop found its way through the branches. But I will put my feet down and move further in. I can see the pond from where I am sitting, I do love rain hitting a pond.

The Taunton Concert Band don’t have amplification, they don’t need it. But that does mean whenever the conductor wants to announce the next section he must come around to each section of the audience. The way everything is laid out is in a square with the bandstand in the middle, main seating opposite, tea, coffee & book stall to the left as you look at bandstand, and another covered area on right. They call that last area disabled seating and its where we are. But really anyone sits there. There is another covered tent at a distance for smokers and a small information and first aid tent.

Everything is so well organised by Friends of Wellington Park. They work very hard, setting up, running and breaking down all these events. Whenever we go, there is a lady, Pauline who spots us and makes sure we can find a place to be under cover with a seat for Mary.

As the very last strains of the final piece of music rang out, the sun finally burst through the clouds, it was as if a heavenly lighting booth had coordinated with the band. The sunshine made for a pleasant end to a great day and a much more enjoyable walk home. I’m able to dispense with waterproof coverings. One last chicane to negotiate once home in order to get the wheelchair back into the lounge and me into bed. It’s been fair weather after all.

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“It’s only a dribble.” Said one of my carers returning from the kitchen.

“What is?” I was curious.

“The tap.”

Then a conversation I had with Mary earlier came back to me and everything made sense. Our new neighbour had discovered a leak in their water pipe. Obviously they were fixing it and I remembered that every flat, house and business in our alley shared the one stop tap.

I sent my carer out to request they turn the water back on so she could fill my wash bowls. I was all ready for my morning ablutions and decided water was a necessary part of that. She went off down the alley on this windy morning, plastic apron flapping, blue rubber gloves on hands. I watched the exchange on my door camera in fascination. Heads nodded, hands waved, aprons flapped and then she returned triumphant. The water was back on. But brown water spluttered from the tap at first try. Eventually it ran clear. We later discovered that our alleyway has a steel water pipe that is corroding, hence the leak and the brown rusty water. Examining the repair had shifted some rust, lovely. Looks like all of us in the alley are going to need a new main pipe soon.

. The temporary repair on the water pipe.

Quickly she filled wash bowls, kettle and started my wash. We hadn’t finished when the doorbell rang and our neighbour was checking if the stopcock could now be turned off. More water was fetched before the water dwindled to another dribble. This was probably the least water I have been washed in for a while. Still, better than no water.

It seemed only two minutes later when the phone rang. Millbrook were responding to my request that morning about my ripple mattress. I’d realised the night before that it was slowly sinking. My bottom was gradually reaching the metal frame, not ideal. This situation is classified as urgent and Millbrook have a 24 hour emergency service. So just 1 ½ hours after I phoned I had a call to say the replacement was on its way, accompanied by a technician. I added that last bit in case you were picturing a mattress walking down Wellington High Street on its own. Stranger things are happening these days. Food is being delivered by wheeled automated delivery vehicles on university campuses. Amazon is using flying drones for delivery. How long before my mattress arrives unaccompanied? But as I received this phone call I was still undressed and mid wash and the technician said he would be 5 minutes. This caused a great deal of alacrity, by my carer, in the last bit of getting me ready. So much so that I was ready before they arrived. Any quicker and I would have been ready before we started.

To enable the mattress change I was hoisted in my day sling. It’s more comfortable and safer for a long duration than my other sling and like being in an upright hammock. Hanging there I watched, sorry supervised, the work of changing the mattress. The sling is comfortable for a short while, but it took a while to change and re inflate the new mattress, so I was ready to return to bed . Now back on the new mattress I realise that the old one had been deflating for some time. Probably weeks. The difference between the two was very noticeable.

On Mary’s return at lunchtime the water was still off. So she arrived back to a pile of washing up, no water for a cup of tea or to make dinner. Not a good welcome home. Fortunately she found some bottled water in the cupboard for making lunch as by this point a section of the broken pipe had been removed. So the stop tap couldn’t be put back on till after it was fixed. Mary had not finished her lunch when we received visits from our new neighbour and his brother who was helping him. They were showing us the corrosion on the pipe and chatting about the way forward as the rest of the pipe in the alley looks poor. They seem like really nice new owners of the house at the end, very capable and helpful people. I look forward to getting to know them more.

Then the phone rang again. Wellington Swimming pool, an update on the situation about me swimming there (see my blog “Sink or swim?”) Apparently the mobile hoist is not fixable and the current owners will not spend money to replace it. When the new owners take over 1st August it is a high priority to replace it. So meanwhile all I can do is try out the changing room/shower to make sure that works, in readiness for the arrival of the hoist. Oh well, from a one week wait to try out the pool, to a two month wait. At least I get to try out the shower. You would think there is an equality law about swimming pools being disabled accessible. But there isn’t, not yet. In the USA there is such a law and there is talk it may come here. Meanwhile accessible pools are widely spaced and what is meant by accessible varies. After all, there is a big difference if you are a wheelchair user who can stand to transfer compared to someone like myself who can’t. Not every, so called ‘accessible’ changing room has beds to be changed on.

It’s been a much busier day than usual for me. You are probably thinking, busy? What’s he talking about? That’s not busy. But remember, for me a normal day for my health condition is to have nothing happen beyond being washed and dressed, or perhaps a trip out to the Spa coffee shop. Which is very tiring in itself for me (see my blog “Consequences.”) Anything added is exhausting. So it really has been a busy day.

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“It’s a very steep hill.” Mary is very fit and yet finds the climb to Cleve Spa hard going, especially as it comes after the half mile walk from our house.

One of my old carers used to find it fun, or perhaps her daily workout, to run up this hill. I’d never really appreciated how steep it was. For some reason it never struck me as hard going. I certainly never get out of breath going up it. Then one day Mary stopped at the top of the hill, rotated my wheelchair to face the way we had come and showed me the rooftops of the garage at the bottom of the hill. It seemed an awful long way down. Perhaps it was steep after all. Still it’s easy going down.

My wheelchair has a brilliant function, designed so that I can recover from a collapse whilst in it. But also, to enable a change of pressure in use and to help with steep slopes. It can recline and tilt. I have used this on steep hills. In Dawlish and in Sidmouth.

In Dawlish we were staying at the RCH Bridge house convalescent hotel in winter, it’s cheaper. The route between Mary’s dad’s house and the hotel goes via a park. In winter the park is muddy and full of leaves. Not wanting to take leaves and mud into Mary’s dad’s flat we chose to avoid the park. The problem was that the most direct route took us up by the hospital within the car park. If you know Dawlish, you will know that is a very steep, if short hill. I had two options, either go up backwards, tilted back, or put the wheelchair in a full forward tilt and take all recline off it. Making the footplates almost touch the ground. I chose that option, as I like seeing where I am going. The Quickie Salsa M2 is a very stable and well-balanced wheelchair, so I knew it would cope. Even so it felt scary the first time I went up the hill. Each little bump felt like it would tip the chair backwards. I was glad to reach the top. I am convinced there was no actual danger, only perceived, as the slope was within tolerance for the chair in the tilt I had set up. But that doesn’t take away how it feels.

The time in Sidmouth was a day trip by minibus from the RCH. The accessible minibus took us first to a donkey sanctuary just outside Sidmouth. By the way that is a very accessible place for wheelchairs, plus if you like donkeys you are totally sorted. The café is also very large and accessible with nice food, if a little pricey. But as entry to the sanctuary is free, I guess they make their money in the café. Then we were driven down into Sidmouth. The driver dropped us at Connaught gardens just above Sidmouth itself. The gardens are an odd mix of accessible and non accessible. You suddenly come across steps and must double back even though all the route has been smooth and easy up to the steps. The café there is not accessible.

We decided to try out the cliff path from the gardens to the sea front. But we weren’t sure if it was accessible. A word of warning; do not try to access it from the top in a push wheelchair unless you are strong and have suitable brakes. The path down is extremely steep! With a power wheelchair I would not attempt it unless you have one like mine that reclines. I reclined mine backwards quite a way and headed down. There were a few points where I wished I hadn’t started, but the thought of trying to go up kept me going. I would only attempt going up, backwards and tilted. Definitely not to be tried in ice or even heavy rain. Once we reached the bottom the rest of the path was accessible, but I could see that stones from the beach, or any debris could easily block the route. I would probably recommend a wheelchair user access the path from the seafront and head along from there, rather than from the gardens. Sidmouth seafront itself is a lovely long promenade to wheel along. If only Sidmouth was accessible by train, rather than just by car or coach.

Another, less major hill I have climbed in my wheelchair a few times is on Dawlish seafront. Under the viaduct as you turn right towards Coryton Cove you must climb a short incline onto the sea wall that runs alongside the railway by the sea. It’s an exciting trip and not possible, or rather not safe at high tide in stormy weather. The waves sweep over the sea wall an onto the railway line.

Passing under the viaduct and towards the sea wall is usually simple and clear. But in winter often pebbles have been swept over the path. Mary therefore keeps a stylish pink spade hanging on the back of my wheelchair. I see it as my manly pink spade, and I don’t feel at all embarrassed to have a pink spade. Not in the least embarrassed. When we were traveling to Dawlish, this pink spade, got caught on the internal train door, pinged off and landed at a passengers feet. I debated pretending it wasn’t mine, but Mary quickly claimed it back.

One morning we were heading to Coryton Cove and the night before the sea had decided to block our path. Mary gamely used the pink, yes pink spade to clear a path for my wheelchair. We reached the incline, I like to think of it as a hill, or mountain. Somehow it makes the whole journey more heroic. But if you know Dawlish, don’t let on that the incline is only a few feet. I struggled up the massive hill onto the sea wall to be greeted by more pebbles. We were also greeted by a helpful man warning us of the dangers of the sea wall. It is dangerous if you are unaware not to try it at high tide and that there are bumps and potholes to avoid.

Coming the other way were a big gang of workmen. They were all men, so I’m not being sexist. They were welding spades and brooms so Mary asked if they would clear a small path for us. I was just glad to see the back of the pink spade. Although it did get hung on the back of my wheelchair again in full view of passers by. The workmen were brilliant, they cleared a large pathway for me right the way through. So, we enjoyed our trip to Coryton Cove.

If it wasn’t for my brilliant wheelchair these trips would not be possible. I really can climb every mountain, OK, well slight incline then.

See my other blogs for other details of my wheelchair (My amazing wheelchair). I also blog more about our past (Biography of Mike and Mary) my journey and things we have learnt on the way. As well as helpful aids I have discovered (Not so public convenience.)

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I am taking bets now, ready for Friday. Will I sink or swim?

If you have read my blogs then you know the difficulties of me getting a bath (Shall we get in the bath?). What you may not realise is that even in a bath I am only partially covered by water. The last time I was submerged in water was years ago, in a swimming pool. Now I have an opportunity to repeat that. Hopefully my head will stay above water, at least some of the time.

One of my carers was swimming at the Wellington Sports centre a few days ago, and noticed a hoist out of the corner of her eye. Maybe that’s an occupational hazard, spotting disability equipment when having a fun time with your boyfriend. She mentioned it to me, so Mary and I went to check it out. What a lovely greeting we received there from the staff, they were happy to welcome us and show us around. One of the duty managers showed us the disabled facilities. They have a lay down bed shower, I want to repeat that so I can soak a bit longer, they have a lay down shower…ahhh. I am looking forward to that bit, never mind the swimming pool, I just want to go for a shower. It consists of a height adjustable soft plastic bed with drain holes, next to a shower head, all within a disabled changing room. After being hoisted onto it, I lie on it and my carer or my wife gives me a shower. Luxury has never been so luxurious. Normally I would then have transferred to a poolside wheelchair to go through to the pool, but that has been stolen! I don’t understand some people. So I will need to use my big power wheelchair on Friday and I used it for the show around, it fits through the narrow gates. If you have never driven a large power wheelchair on a swimming pool side, you have not lived. I felt like I was breaking all the rules. Remember the don’t run, no splashing, no outdoor shoes, no petting rules? OK so I wasn’t petting, what is petting? I didn’t have any animals with me. But my wheels were from outside, is that like outside shoes? I felt so naughty breaking all the rules, I thought I should go fast just so the life guard could shout, “no running, I mean wheeling fast.”

On the poolside there is a hoist/chair to take me into the water. It looks like someone has taken the top of a bucket type school chair and stuck it on a metal contraption that swings around and goes up and down. The whole thing hooks on the side of the pool. One rather large problem though. No, not me, but how to transfer me into the chair. The only other person who uses this hoist chair can momentarily stand, with assistance from her carer in order to transfer. I can’t stand even with assistance, so I can’t transfer without a hoist. Just as well they have one, but it hasn’t been used in a long time. Hence the weeks delay before I can try out the pool. They have to get it charged, tested and receive training. My carer can use it, but the pool staff have to be trained too. Once this is all done I can access the pool.

The whole process on Friday will be. Arrive, get ready in disabled changing room, by using hoist onto the shower/changing bed, hoist back into wheelchair for trip to poolside. Hoist from wheelchair to the poolside chair, swing poolside chair round and lower into pool. Of course I don’t do any of this. At some point I will have put on a flotation vest. In the pool two people will be on hand in case I have a collapse they will have noodles, hopefully not egg ones. I can’t actually swim, so I will just enjoy floating till I get cool. Back out via poolside chair, to my wheelchair via hoist, wheelchair to changing room, hoist onto shower bed, shower…ahhh luxury, wash and dress, hoist to wheelchair, wait somewhere while carer gets ready and home, simple eh? With all the flotation devices and people I shouldn’t sink.

I am really looking forward to it.

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The plan was a nice day looking at the animals, but as the taxi neared Nailsea we began to wonder if the zoos’ name may be slightly prophetic.

For weeks we had planned a day out at Noahs’ Ark Farm, it’s a zoo near Nailsea and Bristol owned by friends of ours from our days in Nailsea. The planning had started during the most unusual April ever, when the weather was more like summer than spring. Easter I’d actually got sunburnt. Understandably we were expecting the weather to be even better in May. Have you noticed how the weather seems to read your mind and enjoy surprising you? Gradually as you will have noticed, if you are reading this live, the weather had been getting colder and wetter.

To go out for a day involves a lot of planning for us, so we can’t just wake up one morning and say, “weather looks nice, let’s go.” We decided on a date, Thursday May 9th, booked a taxi and had already organised early morning care with my micro provider, I have both an agency and a micro provider. My micro provider tends to often cover early mornings and evening visits. She is a really lovely person and very good at her job.

We kept looking at the BBC weather app in the weeks before, first it showed colder, overcast weather, then rain. Then a few days before we were due to go, it showed a break in the rain. We still hadn’t booked firmly with the taxi at that point, just provisional, so we decided to confirm the trip.

The day before was heavy rain, but we hoped the air was just clearing. On the morning of May 9th it was clear and dry; in Wellington. Our hopes rose. I checked the BBC weather for Nailsea and it showed rain all day, what do they know.

As we were going to be out all day I had a Conveen put on. These are external catheters. I will look at those in another blog, because they have caused much hilarity, but they are also extremely useful in my situation.

Knowing it was cold and rain expected I was wrapped up like an Eskimo. I have faux fur lined leggings that I sit in, on the wheelchair. Then a coat, hat, scarf, gloves and a lined waterproof cover over the top. People look jealousy at me and often comment that I have the right idea. Because the back of the waterproof cover goes over the head rest I look a bit hunchback.

We were travelling with our favourite taxi firm, Archies cabs, his taxis are bigger than most. So I can easily fit into one of his cabs and slightly recline. I have to make sure my shoulder straps are tight and neck brace on plus my arms under the restraints. That way if I have a collapse I don’t get bounced too much. I did have a collapse and all was well. Archies cabs have good suspension. Paul, the owner was driving and he is careful on bumps.

Most of the journey was fairly clear weather, just the odd raindrop. As we neared Noahs’ Ark the Biblical floods started. There was not just water pouring out of the sky, but water forcing it’s way back up from the drains! Water from above and water from below, if you know the Bible story you will understand the reference. Mary and I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But we decided we would pray that there was a break in the weather, and we would make the best of the day.

Arriving ten minutes early we had to shelter in the bicycle shed, but a kind ticket office staff member let us in early. I don’t think I have ever spent as long buying tickets and reading the signage. I am sure it was not because that bit was sheltered and the rain looked heavy. When we did venture out the rain had eased. Even so we headed for somewhere warm and inside, the reptile house.

One of my previous carers gave Mary and I a pink bendy toy. Really it’s a plant clip to hold a plant against a stick, but we use it as a mascot and call it Kermit. He travels with us and gets photographed in various locations. He posed by one of the reptiles.

We didn’t need to shelter in an ark, there was no Biblical flood. Although there were some bouts of heavy rain and it was chilly. We also had sunshine, long periods of dry weather and times when it just lightly rained. Our prayers were answered. We also met lovely people, both other visitors and the staff. Everyone was helpful kind and understanding.

At lunchtime we went into the café. The tables were laid out in rows. Normally as I am in a wheelchair I go on an end. But I fancied a window view, so I weaved down between the backs of peoples seats in between the tables to the window. It worked ok getting there, but on the way out more people had arrived and one poor child had to be lifted in their chair, by Dad, out of my way. It may seem I was being unreasonable going to such an awkward place, but why shouldn’t I have a window view occasionally.

We managed to see a number of the talks and most of the animals played ball and came out to prowl, frolic or at the least feed. Probably the most exciting talk was the Wings of Wonder which, given the weather was inside. You haven’t lived until various large birds of prey have brushed by your ear at speed.

As may be expected from my previous posts, I had several collapses during the day. The zoo was so empty, maybe twenty or thirty people, that we could always find a quiet sheltered spot for me to recover.

We also bumped into someone we knew from our Nailsea days who works there. It was so lovely to catch up a little.

Since our last visit Noahs’ Ark has improved it’s disabled facilities greatly, including a changing places toilet. No, that’s not where you become someone else. It’s basically an adult changing room for disabled. Think baby changing but with hoists to do the lifting. They have one in Weatherspoon’s Wellington. It’s new at Noahs’ Ark and everything is very swish. Lots of room to manoeuvre inside.

I was able to get most places, only a couple of the animal enclosures had steps. The maze is not accessible, and there are a few platforms with steps. The exciting bit is getting around the site in a power wheelchair. Some parts are an old farm with concrete drives, other bits are very steep. Everywhere has tiny bumps and indents, plus cambers on the paths for drainage. The gravel bits have various size stones and in some places the stones have gained bigger holes. Overall the ride around is thrilling. Not sure everyone would enjoy that, but I did. Of course not every power wheelchair user would attempt to go everywhere I went. I also travelled fairly fast. A push wheelchair would not be as exciting, but you would need strength on the slopes. All of this is explained in their accessibility brochure. I find they gave the best details of anywhere. It is an accessible site, more accessible than most. As with all such places you just need to be cautious. Because I am not cautious by nature it is just as well my Quickie Salsa M2 was able to cope with the terrain.

The only thing that would stop us going lots of times is the taxi cost. We had to save up for this special treat. You might wonder why we travelled all the way by taxi, it may sound an extravagant method. But, the taxi to Taunton Station plus train fare and a taxi from Bristol station to Noahs’ Ark is the same as all the way by taxi. It was a fabulous day out and the weather didn’t dampen it.

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