Empty Wheelchairs...

I sit back down in the grey airport wheelchair and stuff my feet back into my converse. 

Sorry about that says the young man who is pushing me through into departures but no one escapes the shoe scan.

He helps me out onto a blue seat with a wheelchair picture printed onto the fabric. 

Thank you 

Mr H slips him a tip then wanders away to find the toilets. I pull my belt back through the loops of my jeans, push up my sleeves and wipe my forehead, it feels like its 29 degrees inside as well as out there in the Caribbean sunshine...

A few seconds later...

Bing Bong final call for passengers flying on TOM815 to Birmingham please make your way to Gate 4. 

That's us I call out as I frantically fasten my belt and grab my bag. Mr H returns and we ask where the wheelchairs are to take people with disabilities to the ambulift.

The lady responsible for getting the disabled onto the aeroplane tells us they haven't got any available...

But if you walk over there and out of the door the Ambulift is waiting she points. So a snake of crutches, sticks and mobility scooters weaves its way towards the pointed door. As we go out into the sunshine we spot thirty or more empty wheelchairs silently sitting. Waiting to be used...

One by one, like suntanned canaries in a cage, we are lifted on a yellow metal platform into the tin box ambulift. Mr H says to the Barbadian gents assisting us These people should be on the plane before the other passengers, little chance of that now. Again! 

I am fed up that the disabled are always last on the plane here in Barbados. There is a fifty dollar tip if you can get us all onto the aeroplane before the other passengers. A look of shock passes over the young mens faces, then they giggle as they whisper to each other. The process of loading us speeds up...

We trundle along the road by the side of the aircraft lined up, ready to fly. We watch anxiously as lines of buses fill with passengers about to head to our aircraft which is waiting on the tarmac. 

Get your foot down Mr H shouts as he waves the fifty dollar bill at the driver. 

We are all laughing and giggling as we clutch our sweaty fists. We must be doing the speed of light now Mr H laughs as the ambulift snails it's way towards the first aeroplane. 

We pass it. 

Not ours. 

We stop at the third. Reverse up to the side door. The ambulift mechanisms creak as like birds we are lifted into the air. The giggles of anticipation get louder. The gents knock on the cabin door. 

It is opened immediately. It's a miracle I shout!

Mr H calls to the air hostess is the plane empty, are we the first passengers.

Yes she grins.

We all cheer...

Mr H stands back to let the crutch and stick brigade clamber across the metal bridge to enter the aircraft. Then with a huge grin he hands over the fifty dollars...

That's a first I say to the blue hatted air hostess as she directs me to my seat. We have never made it onto the plane before the able bodied at this airport. Just proves that money talks...

Time to Relax...