I went to the theatre last night. Not quite so straightforward as once it was, as the journey to Brighton, just 15 miles or so from where I now live, might as well be a journey of 1000 miles. For me in my wheelchair.
But for this expedition, more than worth it, I had the special services of my own taxi driver.
He is mine in a very special sense, because we have become friends, in a way that is perhaps less usual than simple acquaintance might imply.
In December, my first article for Care Talk Magazine was a profile of my taxi driver, and the way in which he has set out to provide an accessible service to people just like myself at reasonable cost.
An honorable intention, it is easy to see. But the reasons for this were arrived at out of dissatisfaction with what was available to his own mother-in-law, who is in fact cared for at the Queen Alexandra Hospital Home just across the road from me. She is not an ex-serviceman, but then no institution is an island in these days.
Her disability arises from the fusing of hip bones that these days would have been avoided shortly after birth, and now as the matriarch of her family she has lost the use of her legs.
It was the desire of her daughter and her husband to help her retain the capacity to travel in the world that led them to set up their own taxi firm, because in spite of legislation under the Disability Discrimination Act, taxi drivers have been slow to fully embrace the possibilities of the ‘disabled pound’.
Len is not a by profession a taxi driver, but he has become one, and a very good one. In fact, he has changed the whole way in which taxi registration takes place in the small town in which we both live.
Any taxi seeking registration that is accessible to a wheelchair user must now receive some basic training in the needs of wheelchair users, and this training is delivered by Len himself.
He has a strong commitment to fair pricing for journeys undertaken by wheelchair users, and this has been an important aspect of his business policy. One that has been needed in the marketplace for taxi journeys undertaken by wheelchair users in this town.
In London, recent legislation has required every Black Cab to carry ramps to enable access, and most modern taxis have special ramps built into the structure of the cab. Great. But London does not extend beyond the boundaries of the capital, and in the provinces taxi registration is up to the local Town or Borough authorities.
Therefore, excess to taxi transport outside London is a hit and miss affair.
My article was based upon a simple interview which I undertook in a local restaurant, which had the benefit of a single Michelin Star. We then made a visit, last Spring, to a local woodland, to see the bluebells. From this came a poem which was published with the article.
Len has been my favored driver to enable me to see the theatre produced by my best friend, who is now a Senior Lecturer at a local University, one that is highly thought of by way of its Performing Arts courses.
And thus we have attended a number of student shows together, and yesterday we saw a performance of Stephen Sondheim’s Into The Woods, performed by the year three students from the performing arts degree. It was the penultimate performance of an extensive tour of Sussex, and I suppose one of the most ambitious projects for the University to date.
It was a stupendous experience, and Len brought along his wife, Pauline, as she has heard such positive things about the previous shows that he has taken me to. Len and Pauline are emigrating to Australia in the summer, where Pauline will take up an interesting job as a charity fundraiser.
I will be sad to lose my taxi driver, but pleased to keep in touch with their new adventure, beginning a new life in a new environment.
We were all profoundly moved by the production and the quality of the student ensemble, in this piece which I have never seen before. When it was performed professionally in the West End in London, it won an Olivier award, one of the most prestigious awards for theatre in London.
It is an impressive musical work. Encompassing all of the emotions that we must all go through as we become independent adults. In outline, the characters are all of the fairy-tale characters that we have grown up with as children, like Little Red Riding Hood, and Rapunzel. They must all face up to their lives beyond the wood, in the real world post-fairy-tale.
It is perhaps a fitting piece to see when such important changes are afoot for my taxi driver and his family, as indeed all of their children will be emigrating to Australia as well.
Bluebells In The Azured Wood
a tribute to A.E. Houseman
A memory of old England, perhaps
impossible to find on any maps
a sign of spring, less common now
with so much land beneath the plough.
With forests so much under threat
by developments not built as yet,
still they grow in fragrant splendor
in woods in which we still remember
the carpet of blue beneath spring green
as trees awake, and life is seen
to come upon the Winter's bough
and birdsong fills the silence now.
Previously published In the December 2011 issue of Care Talk Magazine and in my second collection, No Particular Order
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