On July 6, 2005

London will soon have the world's most accessible bus network, aiming to make life far simpler for disabled people. Journalist Kaye McIntosh goes on a journey with a wheelchair user and her 'travel pal'.

There is a curious scene at the bus stop just off Trafalgar Square. The passengers on the No 12 are being held up as the driver attempts to lower the wheelchair ramp. But he is parked too close to the stop, and the ramp is stuck on the base of the sign telling you to buy a ticket before you board.

Londoners have a reputation for being unfriendly and impatient, especially on these articulated 'bendy buses, when it feels sometimes as if 90% of the passengers have to stand nose-to-elbow. But today, no one is complaining. One man, Patrick Raphael, even leaps into action, running to the front to tell the driver he will have to move forward, and kicking the ramp to help it retract.

It is a good five minutes before the bus can finally move off. It takes Peggy Taub another three minutes to manoeuvre her wheelchair round the complicated angle from the door into the allotted space, against a backrest and facing the rear of the bus - and she has to do this while the vehicle is moving. That is why, she says, every journey 'takes a year off my life'.

This may be the first time many of these passengers have seen a wheelchair user getting on the bus. Even in a city of 8 million people, it's still a rare experience. But it's a sight that should become much more common - by the end of this year, Transport for London (TfL) boasts it will have the largest accessible bus network in the world. That is 700 routes fully accessible to all disabled passengers, including wheelchair users like Taub. Every one of the 20,000 bus drivers in the capital will have received disability awareness training.

It does cover operating the ramps, but James Meagan, TfL's Dial-a-Ride manager, says, "Sometimes they haven't had a wheelchair user before so they have forgotten how to work the ramp. The more people who use it the better that will get."

Meagan wants to sort this out, encouraging Londoners with disabilities to use the bus network and helping drivers to become familiar with their needs. A key part of this strategy is the travel assistance scheme Taub uses - informally known as Travel Pal. It is aimed at people who are newly-disabled or who do not feel confident using public transport. Meagan offers advice on planning routes as well as a travelling companion for those first few journeys. It is free and available 8am to 6pm weekdays, and at a bargain price to TfL. The 12-month pilot scheme has cost just ?140,000, including Meagan's salary.

TfL's is not the only travel assistance project in the UK. Leeds is already running a Bus Buddying scheme using volunteers to accompany older people, people with learning difficulties or physical impairments and mental health service users. In London, Hounslow primary care trust runs a project for people with learning difficulties. But TfL's scheme is potentially the most ambitious. There are 1.1 million disabled people in the capital and it is likely many avoid public transport.

Setting out on one of their weekly Travel Pal journeys, Taub and Meagan make an odd couple. Meagan is business-like and 30-something in his sharp suit, while Taub looks every inch the artist and writer she is in an ethnic T-shirt and colourful striped and flowery trousers. There is an obvious age gap (but Taub's not commenting on that). Taub also has the sort of rasping New York accent that ensures she does not go unnoticed.

When people do see the couple they can often get irritated with Meagan for his failure to help Taub when she runs into one of the countless obstacles that make every journey an endurance rally. That is the point, though. Meagan says, "I don't help Peggy as we are training her to do this for herself."

Public transport for disabled passengers traditionally means the Dial-a-Ride door-to-door minibus, but it would not allow Taub to make this journey to college for her novel writing and water colour classes twice a week. Meagan admits, "Dial-a-Ride is good if you want to get to the shops but it's pretty useless if you want to work or attend something regular as it's just not available every time." On her first few bus journeys, Taub recalls, she was even nervous about sticking her hand out to make sure that the driver noticed there was a wheelchair user waiting to get on. "In fact the whole thing was absolutely terrifying," she says. "I knew I wasn't going to die because I had James, but the whole thing was a nightmare. I thought I would fall out of the bus, the handrails got in the way and I got stuck on them so my chair wouldn't move. I didn't know I had to wait until the doors closed to move the chair."

This last point is to make sure the wheelchair does not fall off the bus, but it does mean you have to manoeuvre from the doors backwards into the wheelchair space on a moving vehicle. Not easy. Even once she is in place, with the brakes on, Taub's heavy electric wheelchair slips out of position as the bus turns corners and she has to start moving all over again.

Getting off the bus at Taub's destination, Morley College in Lambeth, south London, is no better. It is hard for her to reach the bell for disabled passengers that will alert the driver that the ramp is needed (her hands are also affected by the muscular dystrophy that causes her to use a wheelchair). When she does, the driver does not respond. Meagan goes to inquire: "The driver says everyone presses that button so he didn't know it was a wheelchair user. That's fairly common."

What the driver should do, Meagan suggests, is call out to check if it is a genuine request for the ramp to be lowered.

To be fair to bus drivers, though, we find a bit of a star on the journey back to Taub's home in Covent Garden, central London. White Van Man has blocked the stop, meaning the bus cannot pull in parallel to the kerb to lower the ramp and let Taub descend. The driver gets off and has what Meagan politely describes as 'a bit of a barney' with the offender. WVM initially stands his ground, but our driver prevails, and Taub eventually makes it off the bus. She is determined not to let these many obstacles put her off, "I have to be confident enough to do this on my own just to get out of the house."

That is exactly the aim of the Travel Pal scheme. Meagan had been assisting Taub for three months when I met them and Taub is going solo in another month. But Meagan will still be available, should she need to call.

The scheme has clearly been a lifeline for Taub. "My life is starting over again and this scheme has got me started," she says. "Being able to go to classes makes me feel alive, part of the world, not stuck in the house."

o For more information, contact Travel Assistance on +44 207 241-7457 or email enquire@tfl.gov.uk marked "For attention of Dial-a-Ride Travel Assistance Scheme". For accessible transport outside London, contact the Passenger Transport Executives or at 40-50 Wellington St, Leeds LS2 2DE.

Frank Mulcahy,
'Franmar',
2 Castle Village Court,
Celbridge,
Co. Kildare
Ireland

Tel. & Fax: +353 1627 1314
Mobile/Cell Phone: +353 8723 44934
E-mail: fmulcahy@iol.ie