Transports of Delight

Potentially one of what, I suspect, may be a very long series . . .

Off to the Barbican for a concert on Wednesday. The way things are at the moment, I'm not walking well at all, and the prospect of the long trek, let alone the number of steps I'd have to climb on the way,  from Barbican station is not a happy one.

So, unless things improve in the next two days, which looks pretty unlikely, it's Squirrel-on-wheels time.

The Transport for London journey planner tells me I have two options. One is to get two buses, one from near home to Aldwych, and another from Aldwych to the Barbican.

But . . .I know all too well that partly due to the disruption and deviations the building work for Crossrail involves, the 23 bus to Aldwych can take forever. And, around the time I'd want to be at Aldwych, it's going to be the rush hour, and the chances of finding space for my wheelchair on the first (or maybe the second and third) are probably limited.

The second is to get a bus to Paddington, and the tube from Paddington to Faringdon. Both, apparently have lifts to and from street level. That's interesting, because for the life of me, I simply cannot recall where the lift from the street to the Circle Line at Paddington might be. Unless it's the thing I've always casually assumed is some sort of goods lift to the main-line station?

So far, so good, for the theory. Now, in most circumstances, I would have to try to research the height of the trains from the platform and the gaps between them, at both stations, to be sure I'd be able to get on and off without having to hope some helpful stranger might give me a hand.

This time, though, I'm going with a friend, so all I have to do is remember to get to the Barbican a good forty minutes before the concert starts, since the lifts there confuse me even when I'm on my feet and I really do not want to spend 20 minutes fruitlessly crossing the underground road back and forth to the underground car park only to find me and my wheels going up and down like a jack-in-the-box always ending on any floor but the one I want . . .

I'm actually an "Access Member" (which is what they call us disabled folks) at the Barbican; and it's only now occurred to me I've never seen a Barbican route map for finding one's way about in that Minotaurean labyrinth. Must remember to take a big ball of string.

Oh, and enough money for a black cab just in case of getting stuck somewhere en route.

Tell you how it went (or didn't!) after Wednesday . . .