Looking up in Noosa – Accessibility

Adventure takes many forms. For some it must involve mountains or wrestling bears, for others it comes from shopping at a different supermarket chain.

I count myself in neither camp. Instead I sit somewhere between. This is in part because I am a parent; going away with two kids can present a level of complexity that goes some way beyond checking you have enough oxygen when you get to base camp.

I say in part because one of the added challenges that come with my particular travelling circus is that I am a wheelchair user. I suffered a spinal cord injury back in 2005 when I was 36, and very active. Part of the process of rehabilitation required me to reappraise the way that I pursue my love of the great outdoors and the pleasures of travel.

My motto became ‘find a way of doing it and then decide if it was worth the effort’. In the intervening thirteen years, I have reached some conclusions as to what is worth the effort, but even relatively modest travel plans can include unforeseen problems.

Confident travel

Confident travel is highly treasured by people with disabilities. Find somewhere that you know provides for your needs, and you are likely to return many times. While some areas and individual businesses have grasped the benefits of inclusivity, there is yet to be a wider initiative that encourages people with mobility issues into a specific regional holiday destination. With the average age of the population increasing year on year, forging those reputations now could pay dividends for years to come.

Noosa

When we travelled up to Noosa from our home in New South Wales recently, I was intrigued as to what we would find. My intention is not to write a ‘recommendations’ piece, nor to give you an in-depth assessment of the facilities, but rather to provide an example of how someone with a disability experiences travel.

Smooth Arrival

Sunshine Coast airport was a promising start. Staff were well acquainted with the process of getting a wheelchair user off the plane, and I was reunited with my wheelchair immediately after disembarking. This might seem like a minor point, but as a paraplegic, my wheelchair is not simply a piece of luggage – it’s my independence, my protection against pressure sores, a pain reduction device and much more. I have lost count of instances where friends have been taken off the aircraft only to learn that their wheelchair is languishing somewhere in the baggage hall, unlabelled and unaccounted for, maybe even damaged or worse still, that it never made it onto the plane in the first place. So when the unremarkable happens, i.e. my arrival and disembarkation happen with the minimum of fuss, I feel it’s important to remark upon it.

Great experiences, but much to improve re accessibility

Noosa and the wider region did provide some great wheelchair friendly experiences. We had a kayaking adventure, launching from Quamby Park, and with a tour guide who understood what I needed to be able to get out on the water. However, when we visited the shops in Quamby Place to get food, I was disappointed to find the toilet (in what was obviously a very new building) was not accessible.

Similarly, when we were in Noosa Heads, the boardwalk along the beach is wonderful, providing great views and easy access, however we later discovered that step-free access to an ice cream parlour required the café and shop next door to move furniture in order for me to get past their outdoor dining area, and then my children looked on as I emerged dramatically through racks of clothing and towels. “I’ll have salted caramel in a cone,” felt like a disappointing opening line after such an entrance, but you have to work with what you’ve got.

The issue is one of principle

This kind of neglect of access considerations is all too common, especially the storage of mops and high chairs in supposedly accessible bathrooms. I get that wheelchair users are not that common, but the issue becomes one of principle. If I need to ask people to create access for me, whether it’s a temporary ramp or moving furniture, I’ll usually just take my business elsewhere.

This may seem petty, but it’s all about how it makes me feel, and my perception of how serious a business is when it comes to universal access. If it’s a box ticking exercise, or compliance just for the sake of the building certification, it’s usually pretty obvious. If I need to ask? I won’t bother. If I have to be elevated on a noisy platform lift covered in flashing lights and sirens? I’ll go elsewhere. Everyone likes being made a fuss of from time to time, but not in this way.

The Hinterland

Our wider experience of the region was generally pretty good. Buderim Ginger was a bit of a one-trick pony (which is probably inevitable) but the venue was well set up for access. The visitor centre and walk at the Mary Cairncross Scenic Reserve was a standout experience, with good facilities and lightness of touch that made getting into the rainforest a delight.

All of which shows that Noosa and the wider area has real potential as a destination for people with disabilities and their families. It’s just a case of a bit more joined up thinking. And that’s the point of this piece. A few flags and lots of encouragement.

You’re nearly there, Noosa.