I have a theory. Well, if I'm totally honest, I have numerous theories. I like a good theory and can often be heard late into the night inventing new ones hither and yon. I digress...
The theory I wish to share with you is on the subject of the Dutch. My grandmother was Dutch, so I speak with some authority. Specifically, it is the unusually tall nature of the Dutch that makes the subject for this theory.
I suspect that their height is an evolutionary development triggered by environmental influences. Because they are born below sea-level, they have evolved extra height as a defence against drowning, should any of the dykes spring a leak when there are no small children to insert.
What brings me to this theory is our recent trip to the low countries for Easter weekend. To put the water defences under a little more pressure, it rained for most of the weekend. Again. Add another inch of height to the Dutch national average. As well as tall people, the Netherlands are full of tall buildings, often leaning and most commonly beginning with a few stairs for good measure.
Internal staircases are also set at a precipitous angle, making a bum-shuffle ascent feel like a life-threatening adventure, and that's after any intrepid wheelchair user has had their senses rattled by the Dutch penchant for tiny paving bricks in all of their hard landscaping.
I don't want to give the impression that we didn't enjoy ourselves. Indeed, we had a lovely time, enjoying warm company and eating and drinking far too much.
All of the challenges of stairs and paving offered few surprises for me, having made a visit to Holland since my accident. What I hadn't noticed last time, however, was the lack of accessible toilets in Holland.
Even new buildings rarely have disabled toilets, and many shops and eateries seem to make little effort to make themselves accessible to wheelchair users.
Mind you, this was not the real challenge of our long-weekend away. No, that began when we left the house, all packed and raring to go, only to get a puncture in our own street. Handy, that.
Having tackled the wheelchange-challenge in the past, I was confident that we would be on the road in no time. Unfortunately, I had reckoned without our new car (ooh, get me!). In order to squeeze in extra fold down seats and a petrol tank that takes the entire annual GDP of most former Soviet economies to fill, those clever designers at Mazda (zoom zoom) took the easy option and fitted our new car with a 'space saver' emergency spare wheel.
Who came up with this particular piece of genius? Why did it take so long? How come the first cars were fitted with such cumbersome things as a normal sized spare that allows the driver to resume their journey at anything more than walking pace? What were they thinking?
Having been inspired by the contents of our boot, I have decided to get rid of the emergency spare wheel, and I have replaced it with a hula hoop.
The theory I wish to share with you is on the subject of the Dutch. My grandmother was Dutch, so I speak with some authority. Specifically, it is the unusually tall nature of the Dutch that makes the subject for this theory.
I suspect that their height is an evolutionary development triggered by environmental influences. Because they are born below sea-level, they have evolved extra height as a defence against drowning, should any of the dykes spring a leak when there are no small children to insert.
What brings me to this theory is our recent trip to the low countries for Easter weekend. To put the water defences under a little more pressure, it rained for most of the weekend. Again. Add another inch of height to the Dutch national average. As well as tall people, the Netherlands are full of tall buildings, often leaning and most commonly beginning with a few stairs for good measure.
Internal staircases are also set at a precipitous angle, making a bum-shuffle ascent feel like a life-threatening adventure, and that's after any intrepid wheelchair user has had their senses rattled by the Dutch penchant for tiny paving bricks in all of their hard landscaping.
I don't want to give the impression that we didn't enjoy ourselves. Indeed, we had a lovely time, enjoying warm company and eating and drinking far too much.
All of the challenges of stairs and paving offered few surprises for me, having made a visit to Holland since my accident. What I hadn't noticed last time, however, was the lack of accessible toilets in Holland.
Even new buildings rarely have disabled toilets, and many shops and eateries seem to make little effort to make themselves accessible to wheelchair users.
Mind you, this was not the real challenge of our long-weekend away. No, that began when we left the house, all packed and raring to go, only to get a puncture in our own street. Handy, that.
Having tackled the wheelchange-challenge in the past, I was confident that we would be on the road in no time. Unfortunately, I had reckoned without our new car (ooh, get me!). In order to squeeze in extra fold down seats and a petrol tank that takes the entire annual GDP of most former Soviet economies to fill, those clever designers at Mazda (zoom zoom) took the easy option and fitted our new car with a 'space saver' emergency spare wheel.
Who came up with this particular piece of genius? Why did it take so long? How come the first cars were fitted with such cumbersome things as a normal sized spare that allows the driver to resume their journey at anything more than walking pace? What were they thinking?
Having been inspired by the contents of our boot, I have decided to get rid of the emergency spare wheel, and I have replaced it with a hula hoop.
Hey Tim,
Thanks for the insight. Please keep theorizing, you are great at it. Makes sense to me...
Cheers to all.
MC.