Holiday Season | My trip to Salou, Spain (2016)

Though I would like to be, I’m not a frequent traveller. Living with a physical disability – in my case, Ullrich congenital muscular dystrophy – can make overseas travel difficult and stressful. However, after several years without a holiday (neither at home in the UK or abroad) I decided it was about time I set off in search of sun, sea and sand – a sight unseen here in the Midlands!

Most importantly, the holiday must meet all my accessibility requirements, (I am a non-ambulant, powered wheelchair-user). Another major consideration was my parents, with whom I would be travelling. This presented me with the task of organising a holiday that would satisfy their wants and needs as well as my own.

Of course, it’s far from ideal to travel with your parents at my age (27), but it was my only option at the time. I resisted their considerate invitations to accompany them abroad for years, but I had reached the point of desperation – one way or another, I really needed to get away. There’s only so much British weather a girl can take!


Planning & Booking:

7 years earlier, I visited Tarragona, situated in the Costa Dorada region of Spain. I found it to be a great place to roam around in a powered wheelchair. Back then I booked with Enable Holidays.

Salou, situated in the Costa Dorada region of Spain

For personal reassurance regarding reliable accessibility (and frankly to make life a little easier), we decided to return to Costa Dorada. When comparing prices online, I found it significantly cheaper to book with Disabled Access Holidays (DAH) – a small business based in Glasgow, UK.

Throughout the whole booking process, I interacted with the same agent who sorted everything. Airport assistance and wheelchair accessible taxi transfers were organised. An electric wheelchair was also hired for the week, as I prefer to travel with just my manual chair for fear of damage to my Quantum 600 (I’ve heard horror stories from fellow wheelchair-users).

The only thing I had to arrange was travel insurance for myself. DAH recommended AllClear, even offering a discount code. I enquired with a few providers though they all quoted a similar price. Just one week in Spain would have cost me over £500 and so, admittedly, I chose to take the risk and travel without insurance.


Off we go…

We flew from Birmingham airport on 7th July (2016), arriving in sunny Reus after a thoroughly chaotic checking-in and boarding process. Conveyer belt malfunctions, lack of staff, delays and the absence of assistance at Birmingham established an initial sense of unease.

What really frustrated me was the fact that we boarded via the centre of the plane – my parents and I being made to wait until last. Since our seats were at the front of the plane, I had to struggle some distance in an old aisle chair, bumping elbows with strangers all the way (bear in mind, I’m pretty damn petite). I can’t stand these cronky aisle seats, mainly because they offer no postural support whatsoever and are incredibly uncomfortable. My balance is poor and consequently I always feel I’m about to fall when forced to resort to one.

Upon reaching our front row seats, my poor Dad was left to manually transfer me by himself, as no one offered to help. There was a complete lack of care and consideration from all staff at Birmingham.

A short and uneventful flight ensued. This was one of my major concerns when organising the holiday. A long haul flight was a no-go as there’s just no way I would be able to access the bathroom. With the best will in the world, in my case it really can’t be done.


Disembarking at Reus:

15-20 minute transfer from Reus Airport to Hotel Medplaya Piramide in Salou, Spain

After the disappointment at Birmingham airport I was relieved to receive a much more conscientious service when disembarking at Reus. The assistance for passengers with disabilities was swift and effective. Without question, the staff safely lifted me from my seat straight into my manual wheelchair which was brought to the front of the plane where we exited, this time without an audience. I was so thankful as I hate to have to burden my parents with the physically exhaustive task of manually transferring me.

Our pre-booked taxi transfer was at first nowhere to be found but soon arrived after being prompted by a phone call. The English speaking driver was extremely helpful and repeatedly assured us that she or another driver would collect us from our hotel at the time and date arranged.


The Hotel:

Medplaya Piramide Hotel in Salou, Spain

And so we found ourselves at the Medplaya Piramide 4 star hotel in Salou, Costa Dorada. The three of us shared one, accessible room situated on the second floor resulting in a daily battle for the lift which everyone felt the need to use, regardless of age or ability.

Aside from the presence of a grimy shower chair with one, dismembered footplate, it’s difficult to see how our room could be considered ‘accessible’. The bathroom comprised a regular bath along with a roll in shower which flooded our entire room and out into the hallway within seconds. The bathroom door veneer was all peeled away suggesting this is a long term issue which the hotel has failed to address. We had to call reception for extra towels to mop up the excess water flooding our room after every brief shower.

Furthermore, the sink was far too high and unreachable for me to use whilst sat in my chair. The toilet was lower than normal and lacked any surrounding support aside from a fairly redundant and misplaced grab rail affixed to the wall. A small lip in the patio door may cause an obstacle for some in accessing the sizeable exterior balcony but with a bit of a run up I didn’t have a problem in my hired power chair.

The hotel itself, both interior and exterior, I found to be suitable for anyone with a disability. With smooth, flat surfaces, ramp access where needed, wide open spaces to manoeuvre, and a large ground-floor disabled loo, I was able to roam around completely independently. There’s also a pool hoist – a clean, fully functioning pool hoist!

With plenty to keep you occupied including a bar, restaurant, pool room, terrace area, as well as day and night-time entertainment, this modern hotel caters for all ages and abilities. The staff too were welcoming, sociable and most accommodating.


Location:

There are some steep pavements surrounding the hotel to be aware of, but plenty of slopes and access points more than make up for this. The hotel is ideally situated, just a short stroll to the impressively accessible Levante beach, 250m from Salou town centre and 1.5km from Port Aventura theme park. The area for the most part is flat and even, making it ideal for wheelchair users.

The Beach:

I have to say the major selling point for me was the beach. Though not an experienced traveller, of all the beaches I have ever visited this one is by far the best. It’s vast, it’s flat, and there are numerous platforms which allow wheelchairs and prams to enjoy a smooth ride right down to the waters edge. I was pleased to see many others with various disabilities accessing the sands without the all too familiar struggle.

Furthermore, the individuals who hire out sun loungers could always be counted on to offer a helping hand if and when needed. Without question they would often come running to the assistance of someone. This is not part of their job, nor is it commonplace (sadly), and so I feel it worthy of mention.


On the whole my week in Salou provided much needed respite and relaxation. However, the biggest dilemma was saved for our last day. Our pre-booked taxi never arrived so we were forced to ask reception staff to telephone for a local cab asap. This took over an hour to arrive since there is only one wheelchair accessible taxi in the local area. Fortunately our return flight was delayed otherwise we would certainly have missed our flight. Despite this rather stressful conclusion to an otherwise enjoyable holiday, I would definitely recommend Disabled Access Holidays. However, it’s also important to do your own research and investigation prior to committing to any accommodation and travel arrangements.


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I miss… I’m thankful #9

I miss… being able to wear (pretty much) whatever I want.

As I have aged and my condition has deteriorated, so too has my physicality. The progression of my scoliosis has caused considerable asymmetry and shortening of the torso, making the task of finding suitable clothing increasingly difficult.

These days I live in a uniform of black leggings and baggy tops, jumpers and cardigans. As much as I’m interested in fashion and the latest trends, just like most women my age, my sartorial priorities are now very different to what they were some 15+ years ago. I favour comfort, practicality and insulation over aesthetics.

I wish I could wear short skirts, skinny jeans and tight-fitting dresses as my peers do. But I just can’t, that’s the way it is. Let’s be honest though, as frustrating as it may be at times, it’s really not the end of the world!

I’m thankful… I can still put my own makeup on.

I’m not a girly girl, never have been. I’m not the type to wear makeup every day. But I am an artistic type and fairly particular to boot. By that I mean that if and when I do wear makeup, I like to do it properly. I can’t just slap it on.

Thankfully I still have the strength, grip and dexterity to apply my own makeup with the precision I strive for. I appreciate that many with muscular dystrophy lack or lose this ability and must therefore rely on others to carry out the activity for them.

I miss… I’m thankful #8

I miss… the ability and freedom to be spontaneous. Once you become reliant on others for, well, pretty much everything, the privilege that is spontaneity is no longer yours. I miss my days of youth when I could leave the house in my wheelchair, not a second thought or care in the world. As a kid the worrying and pre-planning was the duty of my parents. These days I have to schedule and organise my own outings.

How am I going to get there? Who will take me? What do I need to take? Will it be accessible? Will there be accessible loos? Will the accessible loos be clean and clear of clutter or are they being used as store cupboards as many are? How long will I be there? How will I manage while I’m there? How will I get home? And so on…

Even the days I don’t go out require consideration. I can’t be really lazy and lay in bed all day if I want to because I rely on carers, and they need to know what time to arrive. I can’t sit up all night or have friends round and socialise without wondering what time they’ll leave because again, I need a carer to get me ready for bed.

My life these days is very routine, very monotonous and very regimented. My mind, spirit and personality however is not at all regimented, disciplined or cautious. There are times I desperately wish I could just rise from my chair and run out of the house, to nowhere in particular. Just run: me, myself and I. Complete freedom of body and mind. No restrictions.

I’m thankful… I have my electric wheelchair which offers a great deal of independence. Until the age of 10 I had only a manual wheelchair which I couldn’t self propel and was therefore dependant on others to push me wherever I wanted to go. Many times though I was positioned awkwardly or simply abandoned somewhere I really didn’t want to be. Since using a powered chair, there’s no way I could return to using only a manual wheelchair. I can roam around my home and garden independently – a simple but significant pleasure. I can get exactly where I want to be when I’m out and about. Put simply, it’s a slice of freedom. It’s not the same as having a fully functioning body, but I certainly count myself lucky that I have my electric wheelchair as I know not all who need them, have them.

I miss… I’m thankful #7

I miss… sitting on the floor and being able to roll around and play with my dog. As a kid I moved around the ground floor of our home pretty swiftly on my bum. But as I’ve aged my scoliosis has become more severe, thereby affecting my balance and posture. This makes sitting anywhere that is not suitably cushioned and supported impossible these days. Sometimes I swear the dog looks at me as if questioning why I won’t get on the floor and fuss her.

I’m thankful… I still have a dog! She’s getting old but still has her moments of sprightliness. She’s 13 now which is a good age for a Labrador. I know she hasn’t long left but she’s seen me change so much over the years. She’s been here through the good days and the bad, her loyalty never faulting. When I’m ill she’s a constant presence, a source of unconditional love, comfort and companionship. I truly believe in the healing power of a beloved pet.

I miss… I’m thankful #5

I miss… midnight snacks and being able to sit myself up in my electric bed to have a drink during the night. Since starting nocturnal NIV (non invasive ventilation) this small pleasure has become practically impossible since I have a mask bound tightly to my face. Drinking is possible with a nasal mask but eating is very difficult as there is an increased risk of aspiration.

I’m thankful… I can eat whatever I want and am still able to feed myself. Unlike many with muscular dystrophy, I don’t have a PEG feeding tube and so all my calories and nutrition comes from the food I put in my mouth. Although I get very full on small quantities of food, I do like to go out for meals with family and friends.

I miss… I’m thankful #4

I miss… sitting in cars on a car seat, particularly the front seat, rather than having to travel in my wheelchair. These days I have to travel in my electric wheelchair at the rear of my Motability vehicle, as transferring is just too difficult.

I’m thankful… for my wheelchair accessible vehicle which allows me to get out and about with ease. I no longer need to be manually lifted in and out of cars. It makes life so much less stressful.

I miss… I’m thankful #3

I miss… playing my clarinet, which I can no longer play due to my declining respiratory function (I was pretty good too!)

I’m thankful… that having now sold my clarinet, someone out there is learning to play and getting as much enjoyment out of it as I did. Plus I’ll always have the knowledge of that achievement. I LOVE music and listen to some form every single day, though I’ve never been a natural musician myself. So to have learnt to play an instrument to a good standard is something I’m proud of.

I miss… I’m thankful #2

I miss bumping down the stairs on my bum as an infant. ‘Bum shuffling’ as my mom calls it kept me pretty mobile around the house as a kid.

I’m thankful… I can still sit on the sofa if I want to and don’t have to remain in my wheelchair all day. It’s good to move around in order to remain as flexible, and as comfortable as possible, even if like me it means being manually lifted.

Learn more about me…

Since I’m fairly new to the blogging scene, I thought it would be beneficial for all if you knew a little more about me and my everyday life.

As someone with a disability, the inevitable question arises now and again: how does it (in my case muscular dystrophy) affect you?

There’s no easy answer to this question, particularly since it’s a progressive condition, meaning that symptoms worsen over time. Furthermore, there are many different types of muscular dystrophy, all of which vary considerably. As in life, no two people are ever the same.

To give you some insight I have decided to offer regular snippets of my experience with Ullrich congenital muscular dystrophy.

I had considered writing a detailed piece about the everyday challenges I face and how I have adapted over the years. But in the end I felt that might be a little, well, boring for you guys. Plus, this open diary (if you will), can be ongoing, allowing those who are interested to see how my condition continues to develop.

Perhaps this will help others, particularly those younger than I as well as parents of children with muscular dystrophy. Perhaps…

For the first week I will upload daily to give you an idea of where I’m going with this! Thereafter, I’ll upload once a week.

So, here is the first entry…

I miss… snuggling up in bed without having to wear a mask to breathe. As anyone out there who relies on NIV will know, it’s an incredibly difficult thing to adapt to. The mask is (for me anyway) extremely uncomfortable and needs regular adjusting throughout the night to avoid sores and the escape of air. I have always struggled to get to sleep without the addition of a mask tightly strapped to my face. It is of course something I wish I didn’t have to endure but, it serves its purpose. Quite literally – adapt or die!

I’m thankful… I can still breathe well enough to manage without daytime NIV (non invasive ventilation). I sincerely hope I never come to rely on my BiPAP machine for daytime support as well as nocturnal ventilation. However, I’m realistic and so am aware this could happen in the future. Therefore, I try my best to make the most of my days as they are – mask free. As cliché as it sounds, your life really can change in a day. So make every day count!