Travelling to the City of Kelowna in Canada

Our Ageing well reporter Bill shares his trails, obstacles, and experience of still travelling around the world with his mobility scooter, nothing stops him!!!!

An early start was necessary to get my mobility scooter accepted with a 'new to me' airline. Each airline has its own requirements, and my history is of "refusal to allow". British Airways turned out to be no different telling me that I didn't have permission to bring a "motorised" wheelchair. As my contact had been via telephone, I hadn't proof so I was struggling. However, the agent filled in the information, about my scooter, and I was off to Gregg's to pick up breakfast. The good thing about having the scooter is that I can choose when I go to the gate and should I pick something up in the shops first.

At 06:00 the papers aren't even delivered yet! I toddled off to the Gate and sat there being bored. BA, eventually, came and got me from Gate 19, and I motored on down to the aircraft door, distinct improvement on the Ambulift transport to the "other" door of the plane. My scooter reappeared at the door, upon arrival at Terminal 5, and I was escorted to the "interterminal" bus stops. I say 'stops because there are 4 terminals and there are staff monitoring departures, to prevent hold-ups at check-ins no doubt.

Terminal 3 surprised me. I haven't spent much time in there, once a not very big or muscular, assistance worker pushed a lady and myself, side by side, almost to the plane...at speed. It is an undulating floor but the final sweep up to the departure gate is a little too much for such shenanigans and he left me at the bottom of the ramp ... ladies first!! I followed the seven-seater electric vehicle to the Assistance hub. It resembled an air-raid shelter. I explained to the 'Despatcher' that I had over five hours to kill and scooted off into the duty-free maze. Everyone's eyes are being sought by the displays and no-one is expecting an intimate bump from a mobility scooter. I again toddled around, now on dead slow ahead as there was lots of time to kill! It's a good job that I am a 'professional' people watcher. Finding a good spot, between the BVLGARI and DOLCE & GABBANA shops. I don't get too close and personal with any retail operation which doesn't feel the need to attach price tags.

In the hours that I held my position I only saw three shoppers (if I can call them that!) to excite the three staff occupying the shop. There was a shift change at 15:00, a different trio took over the till. Not exactly exciting times in there! Thousands of people sitting, wandering, eating, queueing for food, coffee, high and low value items with some rushing off to the departure gates. My five long hours up, I re-entered the air-raid shelter. Every time a flight was called, a lady asked to be taken to it. She was ticketed on a San Francisco departure and was desperate to get moving. Eventually I was told to follow the EV again, this was the, most welcome, order to leave Heathrow for Vancouver. My boredom in a small area was to be replaced by boredom in an aluminum tube. I was happy to see that the, normally leather, seats were fabric covered my arthritis doesn't like leather much. The overhead bins are huge and not the easiest to close. I placed my walking stick behind the seat there was only a bulkhead behind, having done so on other airlines. The steward had other ideas though and I was sternly admonished. I'm struggling to understand what was so wrong!?

Seeing a place name, come up on our track, which I recognised as close to Kelowna, I took a keen interest. It gave an estimate of 23 minutes to Vancouver. Oh Joy!! As it is a 40-70-minute flight from Kelowna airport I wasn't too hopeful but 23 minutes later, flying through the heaviest rainclouds I've ever seen, we were picking up loads of water from the runway. Vancouver is the longest airport I've ever been in, and we docked at gate 62. Having trawled around Heathrow for over five hours, the charge in my scooter battery was failing. I investigated the expanse of airport walkway, disappearing into the distance and realised that I wasn't going to make it. Luckily there are powered walkways, so I checked the boards for what was/was not allowed. Scooters weren't mentioned so off we went. I felt quite safe, it is a four wheeled scooter, very stable, and go to the customs point in record time. I checked through, using a machine to read my passport, and a few minutes later was waved through into the baggage area and on to the domestic system. My feeder airline, to Kelowna, was WestJet. They have a huge presence, on from the HUGE area allocated to Air Canada. An agent looked, with studied disinterest, as I rolled up. He checked my booking and told me that my scooter wasn't booked on the flight. I held on to my reactions and got out my phone. Unlike my dealings with BA Accessibility, I had had an email from WestJet. His pain was visible as he read through the words of clearance as he followed up by asking where my suitcase was. "Checked through to Kelowna". "WestJet doesn't have an agreement with BA, it had to be picked up for declaration by you". I asked what I could do about it, "Nothing, the customs will likely refuse to deal with it tonight and we will deliver it to your house, tomorrow". This, being a problem which I couldn't address, took second place to my onward flight, which I now knew was running late. Another trip through security and I was at the departure gate. I plugged in my phone AND my scooter, which caused eyebrows to ripple around the, fully occupied, seating. Lucky for me I bring my own chair! I was able to speak with my welcoming committee and, also, get some charge into the scooter battery before the flight was called.

The good news was that I was boarding a Boeing 737, with a forty-minute flying time. The bad news was that they were expecting turbulence. Kelowna is surrounded by mountains so rough skies are, really, inevitable. I do know that planes are built to take rough skies in their stride but when on final approach you see the bow of the plane lift to about forty-five degrees, while the plane shakes like a dancer, is something to see (or not if you are a nervous passenger). It occurred to me that the plane must be full of regular customers because the level of the conversation didn't alter. Had we been landing at Newcastle, or even Manchester, there would have been silence!

My friends are used to me being last off the plane so, when I rolled down the ramp, they were sat, patiently, waiting. I don't know why folks jam the aisle before the seatbelt sign fades. I, dutifully, stand up to allow anyone on my row to exit into this quivering jelly of people. At the baggage carousel my suitcase was in view, Al grabbed it and we headed for the door, ahead of most of the aisle jammers, still awaiting their belongings.

The city of Kelowna was spared the ravages of the summer, wildfires. We quickly covered the miles of highway, through the city centre, and we were soon crossing the big lake Okanagan. The bridge appears to float on the water, for about 50% of its span ... maybe it does, I haven't investigated it ... and lifts to allow marine traffic in the centre. We were minutes from home, among the many vineyards and wineries of West Kelowna. A strange, really Canadian solution, saw the land near the lake being designated a tribal reserve. This is known as "Westside", fully under the control of the local indigenous people. They are reputed to be the wealthiest first nation collective in the country. Land is leased for building and a plot can change hands for over a million pounds. One small area, on the lake below my friend's home, has houses which cost many times that figure. This is directly below the Mission Hill Winery, visited by the prince of Wales and Katherine, a few years ago. This is a place of magnificent natural beauty, and the winery looks the part, standing proud on its high point above the banks of vines, which sweep down to the water. To me the mansions only detract from the beauty of the landscape. Not the effect that the multi-millionaire owners of the properties intend, I'm sure!

I rose at seven, the coffee machine was in demand as I sat and considered the view from the living room. A large Castor Bean plant obscured part of the panorama but I was still able to look down the drive, past the vines, to the expanse of the Okanagan Lake. Across over four kilometers of water the trees, which stand over ten meters, looked like balls of subtle pastel green colours. Small balls at that. The banks of the lake climb majestically to the blue sky, with the snow-covered cap of Little White visible at the highest point. Big White, out of site of the house, is the "Go To" ski resort, most popular with local participants, in the sport. I am the proud owner of a Big White toque, complete with pom-pom on the top, presented to me on a special "Thanksgiving" meal, for my benefit. Canadian Thanksgiving occurs a month before the celebration in the U.S. And I had missed out by a week, hence the 'special'. I am unlikely to ever see the slopes of Big White, never mind ski down them, as I have an allergy to snow. It makes me fall over and reduces my temperature, significantly! However, this is the first toque I've had which stays on my head, instead of sliding upwards and falling off, much to my annoyance. Sipping my first coffee of the day I realised that my view of the east bank was cloaked by something new. Elaine had been out to feed her avian family, quail, sparrows, doves, jays, and such. A doe had led her three fawns to partake in the feast, no doubt the birds were miffed. I murmured to Elaine and struggled to get a picture of the family. Elaine is more skilled with a mobile and managed a very good shot of the seed munchers. One is swiftly reminded that people and wildlife live in close proximity, in this amazing country.