How well does Islington cater for the teenager with disabilities wanting a fun night out with friends? Lucy Mason, aged 15, took her trusty wheelchair and a team of Childrens Express journalists on a tour of the highs and lows of the boroughs entertainment scene. Their findings were presented in June 1999 at a conference in Edinburgh on children, participation and the arts.
Lucy has brittle bone disease. I describe it to little kids as wobbly leg syndrome, she says. My mum has the same condition and also gets around in a wheelchair so we both have to think about access before we go out.
First up on the entertainment tour is Rowans Ten-Pin Bowling Centre, just outside Finsbury Park tube station.
A bus arrives. But wheres the special lever, the wider entrance, the comfy headrests? Oh, sorry love, says the bus driver. Try the hoppa buses. Theyve got a wider entrance or at least I think they have.
But the hoppas dont have wheelchair access either. No 80p bus fares for Lucy. At the moment, being disabled means forking out to travel by taxi. An hour late, Lucy arrives at the bowling centre and begins to assess the situation. Problems crop up before she even gets through the doors. Theres a huge step which isnt very welcoming. Ill have to be lifted up that, she points out.
The manager is proud of the ramp in the foyer, but for Lucy its far too steep. There was one like that at my school and we had to get rid of it because it was illegal, she says.
Inside, Lucy finds the surfaces flat, smooth and easy to get around on, but the only access to the arcade or the games mom is via steps. As for other facilities, the toilet doesnt lock and she cant use it by herself. Its not very dignified, Lucy complains.
A second cab ride and a tenner later, Lucy hits Upper Street for Burger King. Lucy is amazed at how poorly planned the toilets are: I cant reach the flush, the hand-dryer, the safety pole, the toilet roll, the sanitary towels or the bin. The taps stiff and theres no soap in the dispenser. To top it off, the door doesnt lock.
At the counter she spots a major hurdle. She cant see the staff, and they certainly cant see her. At least one serving counter needs to he lower, she says. Looking for a seat, Lucy finds that there are only two places where she can fit her wheelchair. If I came here with my mum wed have to sit at opposite ends of the restaurant she declares.
At the Screen on the Green cinema, Lucy finds stairways and awkward corners, but there is wheelchair space in the back row.
A coke break at the Kings Head pub and theatre reveals good access to the theatre but not to other facilities. Lucy recounts: The toilet is unusable. You have to go through two small heavy doors into a narrow passage, only to find its locked anyway. It takes three people to find the key, and when you open the door, theres a bike in there.
She makes a quick exit and heads for Sadlers Wells in Rosebery Avenue. Initial appearances are very positive. Its spacious, flat and accessible, says Lucy. Theyve provided wheelchair spaces in the auditorium, which is quite unusual. However the doors are difficult to use and the buttons in the lift are too high to reach. They had a stair lift, but I wouldnt be able to use it on my own and the staff seemed a bit hostile.
One oversight could be life-threatening: I couldnt find the fire exit anywhere. It needs to be more clearly marked, says Lucy.
Lucys problems dont stop there. Enter your friendly black-cab driver whos been booked to take Lucy home. Cant I just lift her? Save me digging the ramps out of the boot, he says.
