Accessible Amsterdam ... after a fashion

On day one, I was a keen sightseer, ready to explore with a child like enthusiasm. I cruised on the canals, I jolted along the cobbled streets and I dodged the cyclists with a confident air. Then, all of a sudden, my sightseeing came to a standstill. I couldn't move an inch. I looked down and saw that my front wheel was trapped in a tram track. I was the damsel in distress from a silent black and white movie waiting for a dashing hero with a moustache to rescue me from the treacherous tracks. He never made it but thankfully a couple of school children managed to release me.

Like the London buses, many of the famous Amsterdam trams are accessible. If I ever felt a little homesick, I would ride on a tram; the surly faces of the drivers, their refusal to allow you on and their reluctance to use the ramp reminded me of many a bus trip back home.

That afternoon I briefly considered being cultured and visiting the Van Gogh Museum. Van Gogh was disabled. He chopped his own ear off. Was he a 'deaf pretender'? Did he yearn to be deaf or disabled in some way? I pondered such questions for a moment but then decided to go shopping instead.

As I'm rather small, I often have to wear clothes made for kids. I scoured the children's clothes shops of Amsterdam for something different that no child in England would be wearing. Since the Christmas when I found myself wearing exactly the same outfit as my 6 year old niece, shopping for children's fashions is always a priority when abroad. I found the Dutch version of Primark. I was content.

I looked for souvenirs and excelled in my purchases. I bought inflatable tulips, socks with windmills on them and the ultimate, a clog made from Edam cheese. A cheese clog. I actually bought two so I could sit them together. I now have a pair of cheese clogs sitting in my fridge.

I was hugely disappointed that I didn't see anyone wearing clogs in Amsterdam. I considered buying a pair for myself but with my non-standard foot size I'd need to have a pair made specially. I wonder if they make built up clogs for disabled people? Surgical clogs with Velcro straps? Special clogs for special people?

The Anne Frank House is a popular attraction for sightseers and I wanted to visit it. Sadly I found that the attic where she hid was inaccessible. I felt a little churlish asking for access and a reasonable adjustment when they probably had more important things to worry about during the Second World War. I went to the sex museum instead but that too was inaccessible.

I began to sing the song: "I saw a mouse. Where? There on a stair. Where on the stair? Right there! A little mouse with clogs on..." Even that little mouse was sitting on a stair, taunting me at the lack of access in Amsterdam.

Many people enjoy Amsterdam for its 'coffee' shops. Of course I didn't have any of the, ahem, 'coffee' but my 'friend' tried some 'coffee' while she was there. My 'friend' had a cup of 'coffee' that was a little stronger than expected. My 'friend' had a few more 'sips' of the 'coffee' than perhaps she should have. My 'friend' had heard about the medicinal benefits of 'coffee' in relieving pain and indeed this 'friend' felt little pain after consuming the 'coffee'. Afterwards, my 'friend' wheeled a little too close to the canal edge, so her PA safely steered her back to the hotel for a little doze.

On the final night I made my way to the red light district. It shocked and thrilled me in equal measure. Various women, in various states of undress, in various windows, offering various services. I wanted to hire a window and sit there in my wheelchair, slowly and seductively removing my shoes and socks with the assistance of various disability aids and adaptations. "Dear Jim, please could you fix it for me..."

That's my Accessible Amsterdam in a nutshell. I hope you found it useful.