April 27 - Another Train Ride

Lyle and I have just finished another train ride. This time it was the three-day, two-nights trip with the Ghan. The Ghan travels between Adelaide in South Australia and Darwin in the Northern Territory.

We began our trip in Adelaide. It was such fun at the station prior to boarding. There was entertainment and complimentary beverages, including champagne.

When we boarded I was surprised at the compact fit in our train compartment. There was one seat which converted into a single berth, and an upper berth which opened from the ceiling. There was very little space to move around. I had mentioned my sight challenges when we booked, so we did have a compartment near the dining car. This was good as we found the first 24 hours quite bumpy and it was difficult for me to move around.

The highlight of the journey were two stops - breakfast off the train as we watched the sun rise over the outback at Marla, and the Outback Experience at Katherine. We did not make a very good choice for our excursion at our stop at Alice Springs. It involved walking, and although Lyle and I both like to walk, this trek took us through some rough and rocky terrain. My cane didn't cope very well at all.

Now we are in Darwin and our time here deserves another post. We will fly back to Sydney. No more trains.

April 24 - White Cane Connections

Using my white cane often helps me to make connections with other people.  In fact, that is what happened the first day that Lyle and I were in Sydney.  This is how it happened.

Lyle and I were to catch a suburban train to visit my sister.  As we boarded the train, another passenger came into the same train compartment.  Right away he began to speak with us about my white cane.

The man explained to us that he also had low vision because he was an albino.  Albinism is a condition where there is a lack of pigment in the skin, hair and eyes. The lack of pigment in the eyes often causes vision loss,

Our new acquaintance said that his vision seemed "wobbly". It was difficult for him to focus on things.  He said that it in Sydney there was an annual get together of people with albinism.  There would be around 50 of them and usually four or five of these would have guide dogs.

All too soon our friend alighted from the train.  My white cane had been a good conversation starter and it was a good way to connect with someone else who had low vision.

April 22 - Packing A Suitcase

Last week I wrote about travelling and so this week I thought I might write about packing for a trip. I usually pack the suitcase for both Lyle and myself. In case you think that it is strange that it is the person with limited sight who does this, let me explain why.

If Lyle were to pack, I would have no idea of where anything was in the suitcase. When I put things in myself, I know precisely where everything is.

Packing is a matter of organizing. I always put things in the suitcase in the same order. My things go near the front and Lyle’s near the back. Socks and underwear on the right side. Swimsuits and raincoats on the left. Liquids and gels in the middle. Sweaters and shirts on the top. If we need to take shoes or sandals, they go in a plastic bag on the bottom at the back – although I did read somewhere that shoes should go at the top. I like my plan better. It’s easy to pack and for me, easy to find things at the end.

I suppose that my other hint for packing is to keep it simple.  Minimal is the key word. It helps to start packing ahead of time. I usually lay clothes out on the bed early on. I often put too many clothes out at the start but beginning early means that I have time to take away unnecessary items.

Lyle and I take one suitcase between us no matter whether we are away for a week or a month. There is rhyme and reason to this as well. At the airport it doesn’t matter as much because we simply go to the counter to check in the one suitcase, but when we travel elsewhere – by bus, train or on foot – having only the one bag is important. I use my cane in my right hand and hold Lyle’s arm with my left. He trundles the suitcase along with his left hand. We are a team.

I am writing this as I pack our one suitcase. When you read this post, we will already be on our way. When I write next it will be from Australia. 

April 15 - Blind Traveller

It’s tax month and so this past week Lyle and I were at our accountant’s office. As a preamble to the taxation paper work, George (our accountant), Lyle and I were chatting about our various travel plans and dreams. However, when it came time for me to sign on the dotted line, I had some trouble finding the spot to put the pen. Our conversation turned quite naturally to my limited sight. Although we have been using the same accountant for multiple years now, George seemed surprised at how little I could see. He then asked a perfectly legitimate question. His question was: 

“I don’t been to be rude, but with your lack of sight, what do you get out of travelling? What do you see?”

Because I regard George not only as our accountant but as a friend, I tried to answer his question.  At the time, I don’t think I did an especially good job with that and so I have tried to organize my thoughts a little better on this blog. What indeed does a blind traveller get out of travelling?

First, let me tell you that I have always liked to travel. I like to “see” or perhaps I should say “experience” new things and new places. I might not see everything that there is to see but my other senses are still alive and well and I can take what I do see from a new experience and enjoy that. 

I have thought of one example among many. When I had 20/20 vision, I was in Paris and climbed the Eiffel Tower. What an amazing experience! From its height I could see the miniature people and vehicles down below. Not only that, climbing the Eiffel Tower had been on my bucket list since I was a child. I mostly remember the thrill of just being there.

Then, just a few years ago, Lyle and I made the trip to Paris together. Once again I wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower. This time there were several hundred, maybe even thousands, of tourists with the same thought in mind. When we made our way to the top level, I knew that I would no longer be able to see to the street below. However, I was especially aware of the steel structure itself, and I reached out to touch the beams.  I found myself counting the stairs as we trudged upwards. I was keenly aware of the multitude of languages spoken around me. At the top I had a sense of height as we looked out over the city. Sure I couldn’t see any details of people, roads or buildings below me, but I could look out and see a distinction between land and sky and feel the crispness of the April air. It was still an amazing experience although not the same amazing experience of someone who could see.  

A second example might be the New England cruise that Lyle and I took last fall. Lyle was quite excited to see the fall colours. I will tell you now that from ship to shore I didn’t see a single orange leaf...but did I enjoy the cruise? Absolutely! I loved the motion of the ship and the tang of the sea air. I enjoyed the excursions on shore and the entertainment on board the ship. It was another good travel experience for me.

Of course, there are times when I don’t see what other people see.  For instance, sometimes when we are driving, Lyle will point out some aspect in the distance. He knows, and I know that I won’t be able to see it, but when he describes whatever it is, I can see it in my imagination. “Look,” he might say. “Over in that field over there, there must be at least a hundred elk.” I look in the general direction, and from Lyle’s description, I can see those elk quite clearly in my mind.

Even as someone with limited sight, I do like travelling. George, I hope that this better answers your question and I didn’t mind you asking it in the least. 

April 7 - It Made My Night!

When Lyle and I go to a concert, a movie, or any performance, we always try to sit in the very front. Sometimes this means paying a little more and sometimes when it is first come seating it means getting to the theatre or concert hall earlier than everyone else. When we were first married, Lyle and I were both back row people. These days, however, with my limited sight, I like to sit where I can make the most of whatever it is that I do see. In spite of the added time or potential increase in cost, Lyle has become accustomed to these arrangements. It was all worthwhile this past Thursday night.

Lyle and I had tickets to a concert where I was sitting in the front row. The show was a musical tribute to the Beatles, The Beach Boys and the BG’s, with a bit of Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons thrown in for good measure. The group was from Las Vegas and the showmanship, dazzle and panache of the performers reflected this. Although I couldn’t see the faces of the four male stars, when they wore their brilliant white stage suits, I was able to see some of their synchronized dance movements. I could certainly hear their voices.

What really made my night was when one of the singers came down from the stage and crouched in front of my chair and sang a solo to me! Yes, to me! Was I excited or what!   I was totally thrilled!

While he held his microphone in one hand and held my hand with the other, he was close enough that I thought I could see the sparkles on his shirt. It was an absolutely great moment and truly made my night. I am still riding on a bit of a high.

I’m going to recommend this group to anyone who likes music of the rock and roll era.. This show was the second time that Lyle and I have seen the same group. Last November they travelled in Alberta with a show called, Oh, What a Night Tribute. It was excellent and I know that they are repeating the same show this coming November. Last week, they performed a Four by Four Tribute. I wasn’t quite as familiar with the music but it was again an excellent show.

You can check out their website for further information.

www.ohwhatanighttribute.com

  and

www.fourbyfourtribute.com
 
My small mementos of the night are the following two photos. If you can’t actually see the first picture, let me tell you that I am smiling broadly as I stand beside my serenading star. In the second picture, I am still smiling as I stand with the four members of the group.

Sue and her serenading star

Sue with the group