Flying blind, well, visually impaired

A few months back I wrote about hotels from the perspective of someone with a visual impairment, and as that proved popular, I thought I would focus on another aspect of travel this month, namely airports and aeroplanes.

There is always something tremendously exciting about using a new airport as it signals arrival somewhere never previously explored, but I have to admit that using an airport with which I am familiar throws up fewer challenges.

I use Terminal 5 at Heathrow fairly often; I know how to get from the tube or train station to the terminal, I know where the loos are both before and after security, I know that if the Gate number starts with a B or a C you need to go down the escalators and catch the train that shuttles back and forth, and if the Gate number starts with an A but ends with a letter you are destined to be bussed to the aircraft.

More on that later but let us retrace our steps to what goes on prior to security screening. Increasingly in life we need to interact with screens in places such as supermarkets, doctor’s surgeries and airports rather than with a fellow human being when we are providing information or making a transaction. While this is not something I enjoy as someone with poor eyesight it is something I’m mostly willing to tolerate, but the exception is having to battle with a bag drop machine at check-in.

It's not so much seeing the screen as having to figure out where the luggage should be placed, where I need to scan my boarding pass and/or passport, and crucially, figuring out how to correctly attach the baggage tag once it emerges.

So, these are occasions when I seek out a real person, explain that I cannot see very well and would it be possible to check-in my luggage at a desk or have someone assist me in using the bag drop machine.

This can throw up its own frustrations, as a year or so ago the staff member I spoke to said “You need to go to desk 12”. It’s at that point that it is necessary to the deploy the “As I just mentioned, I can’t see very well, so where would I find desk 12?”.

On another occasion I was told to go to the “Special Assistance” area, and to be fair, shown where that was, but then ensured a lengthy ping-pong dialogue when I got to the front of the queue regarding whether or not I needed a wheelchair. No, I don’t. I just want a little help to check in my luggage. Eventually this happened but not after the person behind the desk had to be helped by her colleague to enter into the system that despite having rocked up at the “Special Assistance” desk I didn’t actually need the sort of assistance they were geared up to provide.

Both of these experiences would have been less tortuous had the staff listened to my explanation of what it was I was seeking and perhaps had training that reminded them that 70% to 80% of impairments are not visible.

Over the years I have become a dab hand at the security screening process with the most taxing stage being trying to spot whether my tray is emerging on the standard conveyor belt or has had the misfortune to branch off into the queue of trays needing to be examined by staff.

I’m not an airport shopper but have become accustomed to the fact that almost every airport in the world (though not Terminal 5 at Heathrow) has a sinuous spangly black pathway that if you follow for long enough will take you from security screening through the retail offerings into the main departures lounge.

Boarding an aircraft is that much easier if it is by airbridge rather than having to be bussed or walk to the plane, as these latter options mean tackling a flight of steps.

I have no physical challenge with steps, and in fact going up is something that bothers me much less than going down, as one aspect of my eyesight is that I am unable to judge depth very well, or if edges are unmarked clearly, figure out where the step actually starts.

In this regard Jersey Airport deserves praise, as for some aircraft a zigzag ramp is deployed for passengers to get from ground level to the aircraft cabin (and vice-versa). This is not only a boon to those with mobility impairments or wheelie bags, but equally for those who can’t see terribly well.

By contrast on those grim occasions when you need to leave the pane via a set of steps at Heathrow I have recently encountered a strong contender for the maddest design flaw prize. The stairs have a lovely bright yellow stripe on the edge of each individual step which is superb, however, for reasons that I cannot possibly imagine there is also a bright yellow stripe halfway across the short flat area midway up (or down) the steps.

As such eyes see stripe and say to brain, “Aha, step”, but there is in fact no step, so you end up stamping your foot because rather than descending four or so inches you are in fact staying at the same level.

Being able to pre-select your seat on the plane online has a definite advantage, not just in the sense that I prefer window to aisle in most cases, but because this also aids its location once on board.

Being able to count is an important requisite when you are visually impaired, made more so by the tendency for row numbers on aircraft to be in a tiny rather than decent sized font. But keeping count can be tricky when you are stuck in a slow-moving queue of passengers who have insisted on bringing far more luggage into the cabin than the cabin can accommodate.

This means that I try to pre-select a seat that is close enough to the front, or just a row or two from the back, as being able to reliably figure out when you have got to row 18 or alike on a 32-row aircraft is surprisingly difficult when trying to keep a tally in your head!

Having reached our destination it is time to think about the arrivals process, and this takes us back to the need to interact with technology that has not necessarily been designed with the visually impaired front of mind. Airports and governments love to sing the praises of e-gates at passport control that help to speed up journey times, but these are often my nemesis.

First you have to figure out where you are placing your passport, then you need to figure out where you are supposed to be looking, and of course you need to remove your spectacles, making it that much tougher.

I frequently fail to get the gates to open and sometimes when I do it can be a tad comical as I won’t immediately be aware that they have, being spectacle-less etc. Perhaps e-gates that provide audible instructions is something someone might eventually develop.

But when the e-gate doesn’t open, probably because I have not actually been peering directly at the camera, you get sent to join the end of the queue full of those with small children or who are unable to use the e-gates because of the type of passport they are using.

This penalises those with a visual impairment by extending the amount of time it takes to proceed through passport control. The e-gates tend to be designed in a way that means you cannot get a staff member to actually assist you once you are gated-in as it were, but I have encountered some e-gates whose camera technology is very good at showing you where you should be looking, but sadly there appears to be no global common standard for e-gates.

The next adventure is figuring out which carousel the luggage is on, and this is an example of where having a smartphone can help, sometimes because the airport has a website that provides the information, but sometimes thanks to its ability to be used as a camera. I often find myself locating the screen that lists which carousel is being used for which flight, but, being unable to see the information, I take a zoomed in photo, and then zoom in a bit more on the photo, all of which palaver allows me to figure out where I need to be.

I started by talking about the plusses of using an airport with which you are familiar, but for those that you are encountering for the first time good (by which I mean high colour-contrast and decent sized font) signage can be a real enabler in locating onward bus or train connections on arrival, and in navigating through check-in, security and the departure lounge when returning home.

To sum up, while well designed physical infrastructure can help smooth the passage of someone with a visual impairment before, during and after a flight, well trained staff and access to information, both prior to and during the trip, are equally beneficial.