Campaign News

Part of my responsibility, as someone who blogs about blind matters, is to sometimes stray from the comfortable into the uncomfortable. It is all very well posting up tales of travel to places at home and abroad, but every now and then I need to highlight challenges that blind people in particular, and disabled people in general, face on a daily basis.

One such issue is, something that has been bugging me for years, the apparent abandonment of wheelie-bins in the middle of pavements. I am afraid to say, not by the householder, but by the refuse collection crews, who really should know better. Something had to be done, and should have been done ages ago.

Following on from my piece last week, I am pleased to say, that following two different types of bin collection, garden waste on Tuesday and recycling on Thursday, it appears that the instructions to alter the practice have been heeded. On strolling along the main road through the village it was rewarding to discover that my progress was not blocked by abandoned wheelie-bins. They were all back on the clients’ sides of the boundaries.

I accept that many readers will feel that my claim, that someone might die or become seriously injured, as a result of these discarded obstacles is an exaggeration. I don’t believe it is, though. I am so pleased to see that words, which are often cheap, have been turned into a reality.

A huge thank you to everyone at the Council, from the Leader of the Council, through to the Cabinet Member with responsibility for Waste and Recycling, the Waste and Recycling Manager and, most of all, the gals and guys on the teams. Thank you.

Blind Tip of the Week

It would be useful if you say who you are, if we know you primarily from one place and we come across each other somewhere different. For example, if I usually see you in the pub or club and we bump into each other in a supermarket, although I cannot envisage a time when that would happen, or at the beach, it might be worth saying, “Hi Robert. It’s Jim from the pub.”

Sandringham Parkrun

Last weekend I went along to take part in the Sandringham Parkrun. It is our home Parkrun and, I would say, one of the most attractive. I was only walking as I do not feel confident enough to jog or run it. I walked around with the two amazing tail-walkers, Aaron and Alex, from Gorleston and Norwich respectively.

The experience begins the moment you get out of the car. The car park is plenty big enough with a very good array of disabled spaces. For those who think blind people should not be given blue badges because we aren’t properly disabled, the additional space to open our doors is worth it alone. It, in theory anyway, stops us from crashing our opening doors into neighbouring vehicles. Also, at night, they save us from walking too far when we are really quite vulnerable. As I always say to those who think blindness is a lifestyle choice, put a blindfold on, and see how you cope in an able bodied world.

After a greeting from the organisers, which was thorough, although would you allow me to make one suggestion, when giving directions of the route, would you be good enough to give verbal directions rather than simply point. Sorry, selfish, I know.

The route started off well enough as we proceeded toward the incredible children’s play area. It was only here that I became a little confused as the participants passed among the general public who were milling about near the play facilities. I had to concentrate hard on making sure I followed other people taking part in Parkrun and not latch onto someone who was headed off to the swings and slides.

I managed to negotiate this and found myself walking along a well-made tarmac path. I just let people wander by until I was very close to the back of the field. Maybe I could have gone a little quicker here but I was waiting for the tail-walkers to catch me up. Eventually we crossed a greensward, a little precarious as there were one or two rabbit holes trying to catch me out.
Made it safely across, though, and passed into the woods. This was probably the worst bit. To me it was very dark and narrow. It was also the part where the majority of entrants lapped me. I found this disorienting, thanks to sounds echoing from the trees, for they sounded like a herd of elephants charging up behind me. We were instructed to stick to the left of the track so that faster runners can pass us without hindrance. I did manage to stray into the shrubbery which threw me back onto the trail where a runner collided with me. He was very understanding, and in the English way we competed with one another to apologise. That is about as competitive as Parkrun gets, after all it is not a race, sure everyone is trying to improve, but you are not actually racing against each other.

Then we went around the same route for a second time, the tail-walkers catching me just as we entered the playground for the last time. From then on, we sort of sauntered the rest of the way. We, in fact, had a real good chat. We covered everything from electric vehicles to other Parkruns to the pros and cons of which Sheffield football club should be supported and why. Sorry, don’t remember what we concluded. Not sure I should boast about supporting Ipswich Town in Norfolk so remain tactfully quiet.

When I have stood on the side, eavesdropping on other runners, I often hear them talk how it is months since they have run a personal best. Amazing, isn’t it, I have only taken part in one Parkrun and already have a PB! 1 hour 5 minutes and 4 seconds. Doesn’t seem that hard!
When I next take part at Sandringham I will have the assistance of a VI guide. I will report back how the experience goes. I have already spoken to him and he sounds ultra-fit to me. See how he gets on with a bit of a slouch from a running point of view. Get my apologies in early.

White Cane Ratings*
Car Park: excellent; free for Parkrunners up until 11.00am 🦯🦯🦯🦯🦯
Welcome: good 🦯🦯🦯
Atmosphere: very good 🦯🦯🦯🦯
Course: mixture of made up paths and woodland tracks. good 🦯🦯🦯

*These are how the event suits a blind person and are my opinion only; they are not scientific. Whatever happens no-one must be put off by me. The best way to learn about something is to try it for yourself.

Singapore: The Battlebox

It was the final attraction of the day that blew us away. The piece de resistance, the tour de force or the jewel in the crown, however you wish to describe it, I can’t beat those three. What is more, the staff were all over me when they spied my white cane. They could not have been more accommodating. This was the world famous Battlebox.

All you need to do is download an app for an informative audio tour. When one of the curators saw me struggling with this technology, there was quite a lot of background noise from the visitors, so I was rendered audially blind as well as visually blind, she downloaded it for me. I am sure it is only me but do Americans seem to speak louder than anyone else when they are excited? Apologies to quiet Americans. We started the tour, me with a personal guide to help me navigate steps, low headroom and slopes. Brilliant! How good is this next bit, though? It seemed that it was only my phone that was working with the app. So I changed to speaker mode and we had a case of the blind leading the sighted. They were all huddling around my hand listening in to how Singapore fell to the Japanese in the Second World War.

General Tomoyuki Yamashita pulled off what can only be described as one of the greatest military victories in all history. With a force significantly smaller than British numbers the Japanese stole a march on their enemy by coming through the jungles of Malaya and falling on the island from landward, not seaward as all the intelligence had surmised. Then to cap it all, this same intelligence informed General Arthur Percival that his forces were facing overwhelming numbers. They were not.

Finally, on 15th February 1942, Percival was making a furrow in the corridor whilst chain-smoking. I cannot imagine the stress this man was under. He was contemplating the unthinkable. He was considering surrendering to the Japanese. There must have been images of ridicule going through his mind, there must have been images of his family going through his head and, worst of all, he must have had visions of a snorting Winston Churchill informing the British people of the worst defeat in the country’s military history. It would all be laid at Percival’s door. He only had one option: surrender.

Jane went off to the bookshop and got hold of a number of accounts which, unfortunately, were not available as audio books. They were “You’ll Die in Singapore” by Charles McCormac: a remarkable tale of how he escaped from and evaded the Japanese after the surrender; “Tears of a Teenage Comfort Woman” by Swee Lian: probably needs no explanation other than it shows the continued degradation of women and girls by victorious armies; “The House on Silat Road” by Sing S Si-Hoe: the occupation as seen through the eyes of a nine year-old girl which is sometimes, incredibly uplifting among the horror: and “Secrets of the Battlebox” by Romen Bose: a brief description of the role of the British underground headquarters Malayan Command.

On leaving the ticket office at the end Jane sat down to take advantage of the free wi-fi. My personal guide, thinking we were waiting for a taxi, came out for a chat. It turned out that his own father had only just survived execution during the occupation. He recounted the tale of the slaughter of Chinese residents at Changi Beach. It transpired that the man’s father was illiterate so was not considered a danger to the Japanese. He, and others like him, were put to work as slaves for the victorious army. Who said you will never get by if you can’t read or write? I don’t think I will ever forget this man. Quirks of fate that hold the string to life can make it very frayed at times but, just sometimes, it will always remain strong enough to see you through.

This would not be our last encounter with the Battlebox. It would crop up again during our visit to the Siam-Burma Death Railway.

Alas, it was now time to move on. It was a most agreeable five days. We most certainly must not leave it 34 years before returning again. OMG! That would make me 98! So, probably haven’t got 34 years. Off to Malaysia.

A postscript to the above is that we are now planning a return visit for early 2025. We have such a lot more to catch up on.

Find out more

Fort Siloso: https://www.roots.gov.sg
The Battlebox: https://battlebox.sg

White Cane Ratings

Sentosa Island: 🦯 🦯 🦯 3
Fort Siloso: 🦯 🦯 🦯 3
The Battlebox: 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 4
Changi Airport: 🦯 🦯 🦯 🦯 4