Dry Run 4, 29-07-2015.

So last week I had the final accompanied pratice for my solo blindsimming outing and glad to say that I passed the test, set by Chris, my brother and blindsimming mentor.

Back to our second dry-run for a moment, when we got caught in a thunder storm and heavy rain, I had said to Chris that my darkened glasses, my 'non-vis' pair, as I refer to them, although usually more than satisfactory for these outings, were not completely blinding as I definitely would prefer them to be. Although I can hold my hand in front of my face and not see a thing, although I haven't a clue what the bus driver (or my bird-watching friend, Tony) look like, light does creep in around the edges so that I can see, or not so much see as sense, when I go from dark to shade, when I walk from sunlight into the shadow of trees, and certainly that day, when the lightning flashed so that I expected to hear the thunder before it came.

When I'm blindfolded with my scarf, tied doubled as I've described from time to time, then I'm really blind. I can stand in a room at home and not know where the window is, for instance. But I've only gone public blindfolded like that, once in recent years. That was my early mornig expedition to the Maze at Hampton Court in London (see our web-site). I can't expect people like the bus driver and others to take me seriously if I just have a scarf tied over my eyes.

I didn't expect to hear any more from Chris on the subject, but he had given it some thought. So for my fourth and final 'dry run' last week, he picked me up as usual and explained what he had meant when he said that I was to have a 'real' test that day.

Once in the car, he produced some self-adhesive patches he had acquired from somewhere. (You may remember that I used them overnight on my 24hour+ excursion to a bird 'watching' conference with him.) Today, he said then, I was to be truly blind but nothing to fear on my part as he would be with me all the time – or most of the time, he added. On other occasions, wearing my blacked out 'non-vis' glasses, I am confident that if something really went wrong, I could just take them off. Fortunately, I have never had to do so.

Without thinking too hard, I agreed to go along with the plan. Sitting in the car ready to go, he carefully stuck the patches into position and handed me my 'non-vis' glasses to put on. Yes, I was truly blacked out. He knew his way to my usual dropping off place, next to the pedestrian crossing that I use when unaccompanied and off we went. I had taken my 'Kwell'!

Half an hour or more later, he pulled into the side of the road and told me it was safe to get out and he would see me later at my destination bus-stop.

I climbed out, stood on the pavement and heard Chris drive off.

Suddenly, I felt for a few seconds that I was completely lost. I wasn't sure where I was. I had a flash of total panic. I was completely blind, no light at all. It was the sudden change from the comforting blackness of the car-ride to being outside alone. I had to assume I was at the normal place where I change from into my 'non-vis' glasses and where I realised that I have had a lsat seeing look towards the bus stop, orientating myself before going blind. This time I couldn't do it. I wasn't even sure if I was facing in the right direction. And then as quickly as I was lost I was found again, back on familiar ground, as a woman's voice nearby asked if I wanted to be helped across the road – I was obviously at the pedestrian crossing at least. Thank you, I said, but no. And thinking quickly, I asked instead if I was right for the school gates. As I've described before, I pass these in my more usual trips towards the bus-stop. Yes, this helpful lady said, suddenly a bit too helpful, taking my arm. She would take me there! I was by then able to collect my thoughts and explained that the school was just a 'staging point' on my way to the bus-stop further on. Needless to say she then guided me all the way to the bus-stop before leaving me to go off elsewhere.

After that, everything went back to plan, catching the bus and meeting up with Chris.

However, I had another adventure that day yet to come which I'll write about next time.

Jane.

Blinsimming: Dry run 3, 15 -07-2015

I have now done my third solo-practice blindsimming 'dry run'. All as last time until I got off the bus. The driver told me as he helped down the step that my friend was waiting for over by the gate. Previously Chris, and Tony (now in Australia) for that matter, have met me at the bus stop itself.

This was different and I heard Chris say that he was over by the gate at the bottom of the lane and I should go across to him. Which I did, no problem so far. At the gate, Chris said that I should go through it by myself this time and start up the lane. He would follow behind. So, in a stick-sweeping mode, as to a stick-tapping mode, off I went, following the verge on the left-hand side as I had practised before. Glad to say it was all remarkably easy both up to the top gate, then along the concrete path alongside the water's edge to, not the first, but the third seat now on my right-hand side where I stopped for a cup of tea. The first time we went, we sat on the first seat we came to and were invaded by waddling and quacking ducks who thought they were going to get some food! I was carrying a thermos and some lunch in my ruck-sack (or what ever they are called nowadays). Chris caught up with me after a few minutes, having made no real contribution en route. Very promising

Next week, he says I will have a real test but wouldn't disclose any detail.

I will report back then.

Jane.

'Dry Run' for my solo blindsimming 8-07-2015

Chris and I have now done a second 'dry run' of my planned solo blindsimming outing, a reaction to the absence of my bird-watching friend, Tony, for six months in Australia.

You will have read last time of our first effort in some (boring, I expect) detail.

I have adopted the term 'dry run' defined as - a practice event that is done to prepare for an actual event that will happen in the future – with tongue in cheek since this second trip was a bit different.

We followed the same plan as far as the first trip I described last time, until meeting up as I got off the bus Chris had left his car in the nearby village, as there was no place to park at our eventual meeting place, and hurried along to help me off the bus just in time again. It had been lovely hot summer days since the beginning of the week and I hadn't thought to check the weather forecast the previous evening. So, as I was travelling with Chris anyway, I had not bought my hooded raincoat which I nearly always wear on the train and out of the town on these trips, and carry later, so that I can be incognito, unrecognised, when blindsimming in public anywhere near home where people might otherwise know me.

As I had been blind since before even getting on the bus, I had not noticed the big black clouds building up over the Downs towards the sea. Luckily Chris did see them just as he was parking the car and had thoughtfully brought along a couple of umbrellas from the car in case we did get a bit of rain.

Just as I got off the bus and grabbed Chris's waiting arm, I heard the thunder which I hadn't heard before in the noisy bus. Don't worry, said Chris, we are alright, it is some way off.

I found my own way to the gate at that end of the laneand got through it and started up towards the reservoir, tapping my way along the left-hand verge. Less than five minutes later there was an enormous clap of thunder right over head, preceded by a flash of lightning which I even saw, my non-vision glasses being not quite that, as I have explained before.

Then equally suddenly, down came the rain in torrents. We were soaked even before Chris got the umbrellas open.

There was no shelter to hand, so we just kept going. My blindsimming skills seemed to disappear. I found I could not manage my white stick at all well while holding an umbrella over my head. And the sounds, which I depend quite heavily on, disappeared in the hiss of the rain and the noisy pattering on the umbrella. It was an experience I had never had before. On the few outings where it had rained, there was always shelter of some sort or a car close to hand.

We kept going and thankfully the clouds rolled away (Chris told me) and the sun came out (I didn't have to be told that) and we soon dried out. So much for a 'dry run'!!

On the whole though, I managed the walk quite well, most of the time Chris walked slightly behind me telling me if I was heading for any obstacles, which now included some quite deep puddles to avoid. The same procedure as last time when we eventually returned to the main road, although no way devised yet to resolve crossing that busy main road. He went off to fetch the car, picked me up and I spent a pleasant afternoon on the beach reading, while he was at his meeting.

Jane

New blindsimming expedition 1st July 2015

As I wrote last time, Chris is persuading me to do my 'bird-watching (!)' blind-simming outing alone, now that my friendly 'guide' has gone to Australia for six months. Chris is going to do the route with me, one morning each week for a few (four perhaps) times, bus ride and all, to persuade me it is achievable and safe, and allow me to practise (blindsimming of course as before) and get confident to do it all on my own.

So, the first attempt took place last week.

He picked me up at home early in the morning, after husband had gone off to his office in London, of course. Needless to say with a few changes to the plan.

To get me into the right frame of mind, he blindfolded me with my scarf for the car journey. I have to take a travel-sickness pill, a 'Kwell' for these longer journeys which is ok but does make me sleepy. Of course, I know the first part which I travel by train by myself before going 'blind' and I was awake enough to guide him to the usual spot where I do normally, as this time, put on my blacked out wrap-around dark glasses, take out my foldable white stick and then find my way to the bus-stop at the right time to catch the bus.

This is the point where the plan changed. Jos waited in the car long enough to see that I got onto the bus, then drove off at speed, parked in the village where I usually got off, there being no parking space at the point where we were going to meet up again. He then ran (!) out of the village and managed to get to this next bus stop before the bus, with me, arrived there.

I had explained to the bus driver that I wanted to go beyond my usual stop to the next stop and to give me a shout, please, when we got there. He did just that, came and helped me off and asked if the man waiting there was the one I expected as he wasn't the usual one who met me in the village. I explained that all was in order and off he drove. We were on a different day to my usual trips but the bus drivers seem to have got to know me now after quite a few years of me doing this trip.

It was a lovely sunny morning as Chris walked me (still blindsimming) slowly up this road to the reservoir, telling me what was there, I walking on his left next to the verge, counting steps approximately, listening carefully to his description of any features – farm entrance on the right halfway, etc - and imagining it all as we went, then back down again, I again on that same verge, now on his right. All seemed straightforward enough, certainly not many people around on this route.

Then came the snag which may abort the whole plan – what to do on return to the end of the lane, now having to cross the busy country road to the bus stop for going back. Easy in the village before as my bird-watching friend dropped at the returning bus stop in the village and at the right time for a bus back to the railway station. But this last week Chris left me near the bus stop, ran back into the village, got his car, came back and picked me up. Only a ten minute or so wait. I went on with him then and I spent a nice afternoon in the town where he was holding his meeting. Not blindsimming any longer, regrettably.

We are going to do it again this week and think about the road crossing so I will keep you informed.

Jane.