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No. 8 @ The Fiddlers Elbow, Camden, London

Tuesday 16th July 2024

As I drove my chair into Wigan town centre, along the same route I always take, I couldn’t help this time but think back to what my friend and fellow poet, Jackie Hagan had said to me when I first started performing poetry.

We were both doing a slot together in Coventry but I was so, so nervous in the backstage area, she said “If you want to, we can run through your poems again and how yer gonna do it like, but you don’t know how boss it already sounds.”

We went on after some belly dancers and as I watched and heard Jackie do her spot first, I was laughing too at the wit and humour and just the rawness she went out with, as she took her prosthetic leg off and said “ Well do you like this little face I’ve drawn on it, cos its my leg and I bet you don’t even know who it is anyway.”

Disabled people are still viewed, I think, as not as good, and as if we’re miserable people weighed down constantly. So it was really invaluable to see someone else with a disability just do it whichever way they pleased.

Jackie passed away just a week or two before Camden and I’m not good at acknowledging death, so instead I smiled at those thoughts on my way to the train station and tried not to run over any pigeons. I really enjoy thinking back on that memory and silently said “I made it to a new place, Jackie. I’ll be boss too. Just watch me through the different world of London if you can.”

My good friend and PA for the day, James Ball, tucked into his pie and barm and passed me mine as we set off on the train from Wigan. It promised to be another lovely little adventure this, and what better way to go into the South than to fuel up unashamedly on the Northern stereotype. You can’t tackle the city on an empty stomach. I can’t lie, I was looking forward a lot to Camden but this was the gig I thought had most potential to go very wrong. Not in terms of performance cos I knew that bit was sorted but more the paranoia that the broadness of my accent might require a translator and the practicalities of getting around on a transport network that you don’t know.

My only previous experiences of London was heading to the Eurostar terminal at St Pancreas station and also a little visit for Wigan v Man City when we won the FA cup in 2013. That day did turn out lovely for us, as Wiganers, but ten years ago the tube-stations were awful access wise and I spent a lot of time marooned and searching frantically for black cabs, so yeah, I was massively apprehensive and praying time had altered that aspect. My favourite band The Jam and the song ‘Strange Town’ probably encapsulates some of that worry but with the addition of a wheelchair in the mix too.

I don’t want to be disrespectful to London, but this visit felt very much like when I went to Edinburgh in 2022 when I did a show there on the Free Fringe. I’m saying that because the trendier a place proclaims itself to be, the more off limits to disability it usually is, and in the supposed modern times we're in, I'd just like to ask just why is that?

“I bought an A to Z Guide Book. Trying to find the clubs and YMCA's. But when you ask in a strange town. They say don't know, don't care and I've got to go, mate.” Strange Town by The Jam

London Euston station always catches me by surprise, just the amount of people that swarm at you from all directions. It’s overwhelming not having as much time to make decisions with my chair. James and I spotted the lift to the subway and clung on to the buttons like ship wrecked sailors. That’s when someone who was busy cleaning the floor came over and shouted “ You can go the subway to see it but you can’t get on it with the wheelchair.” Startled a bit, we just kept saying, ‘We’re trying to get to Canary Wharf,’ in the hopes that somehow that would change the outlook of things but it didn’t.

I’d originally booked a hotel closer to the venue but unfortunately three weeks before the gig I got an email from booking.com saying due to unforseen circumstances the hotel had to cancel the booking but would honour it at their flagship hotel on the Wharf. It was unfortunate, not being from London, and it now being 2024, we’d just assumed that transport links like the tube would be fine and easy enough. We hear all the time in the North, how much more efficient transport in London is, so surely it would be different now?

Luckily we had a budget for the tour from Arts Council England and we had a bit set aside for unexpected emergencies. We used this for a £40 taxi ride for 45 minutes to the replacement hotel and it was a good job we had that back-up money too, because it soon became apparent, that in London wheelchair users have fewer options. James and I wanted the big city tube experience, the usual tourist thing and we just couldn’t. And I suppose if Weller had done ‘Down in the Tube Station’ with cerebral palsy, it would have ended up being called ‘Trapped in a Tube Station at Midnight.’

What do disabled Londoners do? Those who don’t have that backup? How do they navigate daily life in this way? Do they just accept to a big extent we’re excluded without the bat of an eyelid? I know there’s many people that would shout, ‘You don’t need the tube, there’s buses!’ and whilst that is true I know from my experience, buses are more packed than ever these days, with shopping trolleys and walking frames competing for the limited two wheelchair spaces, so I can only imagine that intensity magnified in London bustle.

Once at Canary Wharf we decided to cancel the hotel booking and found another hotel in Camden. We were hot and flustered but really relieved, as we downloaded a new app to get a black cab to the new hotel, and turn our attention to relaxing a little and eating before heading to the gig at The Fiddler’s Elbow and being able to finally do what we were there for.

There were an amazing array of little bars and cafes just outside the hotel The Camden Enterprise Centre  2 Haverstock Hill, London NW3 2BL  And even though I hated the jolt and general robotic mindless pace of London, the choice and feel here was nice and a little bit reminiscent of the film Notting Hill. I thought, ‘Yep, no dogshit-splashed pavements or smashed up bus stops here.’ Practicality wise too, I’d say that the Enterprise Centre in Camden Hotel is accessible and a good choice overall, a stones-throw from the venue and step free access to get in.

The only thing I would add is whilst the disabled room was ample size for my chair, it didn’t have any accessible type shower, so maybe something to bear in mind if you stop more than one night like we did. Also I think we did drop lucky, with it being a week day and a reasonable price for the area.

As we headed to That Goddamn Poetry Jam, I was buzzing for sure but that was quickly tempered by the fact that contrary to all the information the host had given my friend Louise and the producer for the tour; the venue was not, as stated step free access. Nor did it have any access to the stage. We knew beforehand wheelchair users couldn’t get on stage but I’m just letting you know in case you want to try it. I don’t believe there was an accessible toilet, although in fairness, I was so hemmed in by tables and amps at the side of me that I never checked the toilets myself. I felt like if I'd have ventured to check the toilets out, a big deal would have been made of re-organising the ableist feng-shui of the room.

The tables and chairs blocked me from getting even near the stage bit until the very last minute. It’s quite normal in most venues but I couldn’t get on the stage so everyone barring myself and one other lady performed out of the spotlight, literally out of it, cos they couldn’t get the spotlight anywhere near us. This was also contrary to information received beforehand.

I felt awkward and in truth, although still excited, I felt not very welcome to be there. I remember looking at the props the Chris Rock influenced host had given himself. There was a high-backed Task Master type throne, and then, the super cane. The super cane is a gimic to pull people off stage, who’ve gone over their 4 minutes.  buzz words without real action are the norm for poetry, arts and society overall  its a big underlying reason why we got funding for the tour and the blogs  but   I still  remember feeling disappointed &  thinking to myself, ‘Bugger me that stuff alone cost more than any attempt at access ever would.’ I fumed silently at the pirates plank of wood that was propped up in the corner passing for a ramp. Have a look at the photo.

In my experience, whilst I accept that all disabilities are different, for people in a wheelchair, an accessible ramp is vital. You can get a proper one online for under £150. Without the shove of my chair by my friend who’s a big lad, and the assistance and friendliness of the bar staff, I wouldn’t have got in, and most wheelchairs would do well not to break that feeble plank of wood in 5 minutes .

There was another, very weird, new experience for me, and no I wasn’t abducted by aliens on leaving the venue, only as I was doing my poems I heard these strange clicks and ums in the audience and I immediately, ‘Thought don’t start laughing cos WTF is happening?’

For those of you have experienced this, the clicks and noises indicate people are enjoying the lines in the poems I was performing. And I don’t mean to sound disrespectful but in my opinion, before you share this trendy stuck up, bizarre form of appreciation, what I’d have appreciated more than anything was the decency to put human rights in place first. I understand that it may be the way London does things but if I’m hearing poem after poem stating, ‘we’re all being ourselves here and we’re all safe to be open’ then look around and see that I wasn’t granted that same thing. I’d have been inclined to take anything onboard if the organisers had welcomed me into the space and given me a smile. I’d have swallowed the pockets of pretension if these basics had been there.

It's not to say at all that I didn’t enjoy and make the most of the night though, cos there were many highlights, London friends Ruth and Jon who came to watch me perform along with some of their friends,  the woman who sang a song that stuck in my head all night- political but brave and fun in its nature. Another highlight was the Cockney bloke who came and chatted to me about being nervous but then went on and absolutely smashed it with photography weaved in between quirky poems. Then the Belgian man who talked sensitively about always playing sports and teaching kids but was being seen as a jock who couldn’t write deeper thoughts and musings. And finally I won’t forget the American couple where the wife drew me whilst I was sat watching, it was lovely drawing, if a little bit Crime Watch e-fit.

If anyone reads this with a disability, I’d say don’t be discouraged to go there not at all, but in the same breath if you do go be prepared for the fact that the setup isn’t right. The biggest annoyance of the experience for me was that in the past, I’ve given stick to venues and festivals that are in a far less affluent area and they've still made more of an effort. Those adaptations aren’t massive structure changes and not that costly to have compared to some venues.

From a personal point of view, I was pleased that I gave the same confident level of performance and I think came across well. Despite the frustrations, with travel and the hotel and then the venue itself, I still did a good, professional performance under added stresses. And I met some nice people in the audience too and sold a few books.

Overall though I can still say that I enjoyed it. As we left the venue, feeling a bit exhausted, myself and James spotted a cheeky chappy urban fox going for a stroll through a park. It had just hoped off the no: 86 bus and got a sandwich in Tesco. We laughed, ‘Wow what a night man, and you don’t see that everyday in Wigan either.’

Note from Louise- Before the book tour, we looked for accessible venues and open mic poetry poetry nights in London. We asked disabled-led organisations for details of nights, who said they didn’t hold that data. We asked wheelchair users who are poets who are based in or near London- they didn’t have up-to-date information. This was the only night we could find that people said was accessible. We thought it was worth trying for Shaun to share his talent for the first time in our capital city. In other parts of the country Shaun is getting paid headline slots but you can’t get booked for those if you can’t be seen, if you’re invisible and you can’t perform in the venue.

London poets- do accessible open mic poetry events exist in London? We need:

Step-free access

An accessible toilet

Ideally a mic and an accessible stage

Close to public transport

Email Shaun jbonwheels1@hotmail.co.uk or myself- louisethepoet@live.co.uk with details.