A comprehensive, experience-driven guide to planning accessible travel. Learn practical strategies for navigating flights, booking truly accessible accommodation, and managing gear from a perspective that understands the reality of travel on wheels.
Planning a wheelchair-accessible trip requires moving beyond generic "tick-box" accessibility filters. A successful adventure demands forensic pre-trip research, a specific strategy for air travel (especially regarding equipment damage mitigation), and a robust backup plan for repairs on the road. The key is to shift from asking "Is it accessible?" to asking specific, quantifiable questions about door widths, bed heights, and bathroom configurations before booking anything.
If you navigate life on wheels, you already know the score: the world wasn't built for us. But that shouldn't stop us from seeing it.
There is a profound difference between the glossy brochures promising "universal accessibility" and the reality of arriving at a hotel late at night to find a six-inch step at the entrance of the "accessible" lobby. I’ve been there. I’ve felt that specific drop in the stomach watching my power chair being loaded aggressively onto a conveyor belt by baggage handlers.
Travel is transformative, but for wheelchair users, it’s also a logistical military operation. In 2025, we have more information than ever, but sifting through the noise to find genuine utility is harder.
This isn't a list of "top 10 accessible cities." This is a guide on how to think, plan, and execute a trip so you can focus on the adventure, not just the obstacles.
The internet is littered with outdated information. A hotel might list itself as accessible on a booking platform because they have a ramp at the back entrance and a slightly wider lift. That doesn't mean you can stay there comfortably.
You cannot rely solely on digital filters. You must speak to a human being at the property, preferably the front desk manager.
Don't ask broad questions like "Is the room adapted?" Their definition of adapted and yours are likely very different. Ask specific, measurable questions based on your needs.
I have learned to always ask for photos of the actual room I will be staying in, particularly the bathroom. If they won't send photos, I don't book.
Here is my non-negotiable checklist when vetting accommodation:
The Bathroom: Is it a true roll-in shower or just a shower with a small lip? Is there a fixed shower seat or a portable one? Where exactly are the grab bars located in relation to the toilet?
The Bed Height: What is the exact measurement from floor to mattress top? (Crucial for self-transfers—too high or too low can make a bed unusable).
The Route: Are there any kerbs, steps, or steep gradients between the disabled parking bay/drop-off point and the room door?
Equipment Space: Is there space under the bed for a hoist (lift) if needed, and enough turning circle space in the room to charge a power chair?
Flying is easily the most stressful part of wheelchair travel. The statistics on damaged mobility equipment are sobering. While airlines are improving, the reality is that once your chair goes into the hold, it's out of your hands.
Gate Check Only: Never check your chair at the main desk. Stay in your own equipment until the absolute last moment at the aircraft door. This minimises the distance and hands it passes through.
The "Instruction Manual": Don't assume baggage handlers know how to disengage the motors on a complex power chair. I tape laminated, bright instructions in English (and the destination language) directly onto the chair, detailing lift points and how to freewheel it.
Remove the Fragiles: Take off joysticks, headrests, cushions, and side guards. These are the bits that get snapped off. They travel in the cabin with you.
When you travel with a disability, you aren't just packing clothes; you're packing a mobile workshop. The goal is self-sufficiency.
Beyond your usual essentials, your kit should include:
A Robust Repair Kit: Allen keys, screwdrivers, wrenches specific to your chair, zip-ties (the duct tape of the wheelchair world), and spare inner tubes/castor bearings if you use manual wheels.
Voltage Converters: If you use a power chair, ensure your charger can handle the voltage of your destination. Plugging a 110V US charger into a 240V UK socket without a converter will fry your electronics instantly.
Prescription Backups: Carry paper copies of prescriptions for all medication and check the NHS advice on travelling with controlled medicines to avoid issues at customs..
No matter how meticulously you plan using spreadsheets and satellite views of pavements, something will go wrong. A lift will be broken; a promised ramp will be missing; a taxi driver will refuse to take you.
This is the hardest part of inclusive travel: managing the emotional toll. It is exhausting to constantly advocate for your basic right to access a space.
When this happens—and it will—give yourself permission to be frustrated for ten minutes. Then, switch into problem-solving mode. This is where the disabled community shines; we are natural innovators because we have to be.
Travel, in the end, is about resilience. The view from the top of a mountain you wasn't sure you could reach, or the taste of street food in a bustling market you navigated successfully, tastes sweeter because of the effort it took to get there. Plan fiercely, but travel with an open heart.
