Hansard

I congratulate Pam Duncan-Glancy on securing this debate. To put it mildly, she knows far more than I do of the difficulties of those with physical disabilities, although she never lets her circumstances impinge on her contributions. She is clever, articulate and a fearsome parliamentary adversary—but enough of that praise.

Disabilities take many forms. We had a debate last week on Tourette syndrome, which is a much misunderstood disability. We have had members with hearing impairments and we had Dennis Robertson, who was blind. This place of work has tried to provide facilities to suit those individual needs, but, even here, the arrangements for accessing spaces in a wheelchair or, in my case, a mobility scooter needs improvement. People cannot travel from the public area to the garden lobby without accompaniment and the use of a lift. Doors have to be held open by someone else and the lift is small and hidden. I have to say, however, that I have followed Pam Duncan-Glancy, who has exposed hidden accessible routes, which I now use.

I say “now” because, until fairly recently, I would not admit to being in a minor way disabled. My disability is minor, but it has opened my eyes to what others have had to accept in how they access places and transport. Some people have been kind, some experiences have been annoying and some experiences have been, frankly, hilarious—at least, that was the best way to react. My mobility scooter is now regularly seen as I navigate the Parliament. However, in a world in which a mobile phone has to be scanned all the time, I find myself having to shout all the time to clear a pathway, because my horn is sadly pathetic.

Recently, when I was out with my walking stick, I found that I had to step aside to let others pass, not the other way round, even though, as is the case for others, pain is always my unwelcome companion. That lack of consideration makes me angry.

I will talk about annoyances, such as having to rely on others to, for example, simply pass through entrances. Doors here and elsewhere in public areas should open easily and comfortably for those with mobility aids. Lift doors should be timed to stay open long enough to allow people with mobility issues to enter safely. Able-bodied folk filling lifts when there is no need for them to do so, leaving disabled people to wait, is simply wrong.

The experience of being an assisted passenger at railways and airports is also annoying. Waverley station is a mixed bag. On one occasion, my assistance, which had been booked, did not make an appearance, but I managed to capture a member of staff to help me to my distant carriage. Edinburgh airport has an assisted passenger desk, but that is well away from the entrance, so people have to struggle to it before they are allocated the most basic sort of wheelchair, which feels as if it and its user will part company quite easily. At the gates, the assisted passenger must wait conspicuously with others for their rickety transport to be placed on a lorry-like platform, which raises them up like a wheelie bin on to an even more rickety vehicle, which then deposits them on the plane.

At the end of the flight, they are, of course, the last to come off. At Halifax airport in Nova Scotia, I was offloaded and abandoned for some time, waiting for some poor soul to locate me and deposit me at customs. It is all a bit rough and ready and undignified, unless one is prepared to see the funny side of it. My walking stick was suspiciously and scrupulously examined at customs in Canada on account of its having a place for a light at the end. The whole shebang took so long that my poor family—complete with “Welcome, Granny Scotland” banners—had to wait 45 minutes before I appeared, now with walking stick, to an all-but-empty airport foyer.

However, there are kind people who offer help, even if someone is trying to do something for themselves, such as getting luggage on to the rack. On balance, in my case, such actions have, so far, outweighed the lack of consideration.

On accessibility, improvement is much needed, because, all too often, there are only stairs, which means that there is no access at all.

I thank the member for securing this debate. There are, of course, far more serious obstacles than those that I have met, but even having this recent but permanent taste of what is involved in simply getting from here to there while maintaining one’s dignity and, importantly, one’s individuality has been a lesson for this politician, and I am still learning.