Adventure doesn’t end when you sit on your butt all day, it just rolls forward a different way.
This trip starts off in Sydney and first stop, Las Vegas.
After months of planning, packing, charging every battery, phone, power bank, watch, gimble, SmartDrive and triple-checking every detail, including calling each hotel to make sure things were actually accessible, the big day finally arrived. My friend and travel partner, Linda, an Austrian woman flew in from Wein after a couple of days in Singapore to join me for this adventure to Las Vegas, Vancouver, Alaska, and Honolulu.
Because the whole point of this trip was to get to Alaska, and the only real way to do that was by taking an Alaskan cruise, I booked everything through the same travel agent who organised my Northern Lights trip. That cruise went from Southampton and up the coast of Norway and into the Arctic Circle. They already knew my needs, so it made sense.
The downside of a package holiday, though, is that I had no control over the flights, either getting there or getting home. But I didn’t let that bother me. As soon as the flight details arrived, I got on the phone with every airline involved.
My itinerary looked like this:
- American Airlines, a Qantas code share on a long-haul flight from Sydney to Los Angeles
- American Airlines again from Los Angeles to Las Vegas
- WestJet from Las Vegas to Vancouver
- WestJet from Vancouver to Honolulu
- And finally, Qantas, we head back to Sydney
With that many carriers handling my wheelchair, SmartDrive batteries, and luggage, I wasn’t taking any chances; every airline got a call.
Travelling in a wheelchair always comes with mixed feelings. The excitement of going somewhere new sits right beside the anxiety. Will my chair make it through the journey? And with this trip involving six flights, the tension was definitely a little high. Would the access actually match what had been promised? As usual, this trip proved that accessible travel is rarely simple, but it is always worth it.
Sydney Airport staff were great. Although the booking started as a Qantas flight, it ended up being operated by American Airlines because of the codeshare agreement. So, the check-in team were American Airlines staff. They were warm, polite, and friendly and handled the whole process with genuine care. I’ve always believed you get back the energy you put out, and this was one of those moments where that rang true.
Travel Tip:
If you’re flying Qantas with a battery-powered mobility aid, request their 12-month Dangerous Goods approval letter before you travel. It saves a huge amount of stress and time at check-in, especially when staff are busy and phone lines are long.
First leg: Sydney to Vegas via Los Angeles,
This was a 14-hour flight and actually the longest flight I’ve done either as a para or when I was able-bodied. After landing in LA, an hour or so transit, we then continued to Las Vegas. By the time we reached the New York-New York Hotel, I was excited for Linda to finally be there in Las Vegas.
I have been there before, but this time it was way less chaotic and expensive. Actually, to put some context to that, in New York, New York, Hotel and Resort on our first night away, and as a way of celebrating my chair arriving without any damage, I bought Linda and me a beer each. These two beers were a Mexican beer called Moldelo, and for a couple of normal-sized beers, they cost $36 US, which equates to roughly $55 AU / $63 NZ. Having said that, Vegas is still a very bright and interesting place. This time, the highlight was the next day: a fully accessible bus tour to the Grand Canyon. Being there reminded me why access matters; it makes the impossible possible.
After a few days of being there, taking it all in, it was time to move on to the next destination, Vancouver. We were originally scheduled to fly from Vegas to Seattle, transfer to another aircraft, and then continue to Vancouver. If I had been booking and arranging the flights myself, I would have tried to book more direct flights.
Vancouver
Vancouver was much calmer, greener, and more welcoming than I had expected, and I felt comfortable almost immediately. Even after a series of flight delays and a 3:30 am hotel check-in, the relaxed, green, and clean atmosphere of the city lifted our spirits. Accessibility was excellent: smooth pavements, low kerbs, accessible public transport, and drivers who patiently waited for me to cross.
That evening, an enormous electrical storm over the northwestern United States caused widespread delays to air traffic in the area. Our flight was delayed twice, and the final arrival time into Seattle was later than the departure time of our connecting flight to Vancouver. WestJet made the decision to transfer us to a direct flight instead.
In the end, all those delays worked in our favour. The direct flight reduced the number of transfers my wheelchair needed to make, eliminating two extra chances of it being damaged. While most travellers are upset or confused by flight delays, for me this turned out to be a much better outcome, simplifying the journey and protecting my chair.
We spent days exploring Gastown, Stanley Park, some of the local cafes, a local Gin Brewery and ended up visiting a friend of a friend’s restaurant and bar. We did all this using accessible taxis, the underground railway and some local buses. We spent a couple of days enjoying a city that genuinely felt inclusive for wheelchair users.
Boarding the Cruise, Celebrity Solstice
Boarding the Alaska cruise at Canada Place was simple and step-free. The staff truly understood accessibility, and the wheelchair-accessible cabin I booked was exactly that, very wheelchair friendly. It worked the way it should, with good turning space, a roll-in shower, and cupboards featuring an easy pull-down hanging rail. Our cabin steward even moved a few things around, making it even better for me to relax and enjoy.
When any staff member takes the time to think about a person using a wheelchair and makes those small adjustments, it’s a wonderful thing indeed.
Sailing out of Vancouver, feeling real grass under my wheels on Deck 15 while the skyline faded behind us, reminded me again how wonderful life can be after a spinal cord injury. It’s simple, really, just get on and go for it.
The Glacier Moment
Halfway through the cruise came one of the most emotional moments of my life. After needing a $250 doctor visit for a chesty cough (travel isn’t always cheap!), the ship arrived in Juneau, where I boarded a helicopter for the first time since my accident. I had flown many times in New Zealand before and never thought I would again.
As I believe every wheelchair user should, I did my research. I found a helicopter company that could assist paraplegic passengers on board and safely look after my chair during the flight. I called them to confirm, and they assured me it was possible.
When I was transferred onto the helicopter, we soared over enormous snow-covered mountains and landed on the Hubbard Glacier. I knew before the flight that I wouldn’t be able to get out onto the ice, but that didn’t matter to me at all.
Sitting there in the cold, bright silence, I realised: my life didn’t stop, it simply changed direction. After spending about 20–30 minutes on the glacier, we returned to the airport and repeated the process in reverse.
Ketchikan, The First City of Alaska
Our final port was Ketchikan, known as Alaska’s First City. We rolled, well, I did, and Linda walked, long Creek Street, watched salmon fight their way upstream, and visited the Totem Heritage Centre. There, I learned that only about 37 people still speak Tlingit, a powerful reminder of how fragile culture can be.
We spent most of our time exploring the town, watching the last few salmon swimming upstream, and taking in Creek Street, an area of houses built on stilts over the creek. Once upon a time, it was known as a street full of “ladies of the night,” but today it stands as a fascinating piece of history and a vibrant part of the town’s character.
Arrival in Honolulu, The Taxi Dilemma
After it was the one thing I did confirm. Bags collected and customs cleared, we were ready to head to Waikiki. But here came the surprise: there were no accessible taxis at the airport that allowed me to remain in my wheelchair.
Several drivers explained that accessible vans must be booked 48 hours in advance, something I hadn’t come across in my trip research. A helpful number was given to us, but after repeated calls with no answer, we were stuck.
Fortunately, a kind security officer suggested the Waikiki Shuttle Bus upstairs in the centre roadway. Within minutes, a bus pulled up, and the driver directed us to wait for the next one going to “Waikiki City Hotels.”
About 20 minutes later, it arrived. To our luck, we were able to bring our luggage aboard (not always guaranteed, but the late hour, 11:45 pm, helped). Around 35 minutes later, we were dropped just a short roll and walk from our hotel.
A local woman even helped Linda unload the bags, a small act of kindness that made a big difference
Checking In at the Hyatt Regency Waikiki
By 12:10 am, we arrived at the Hyatt Regency Waikiki and checked into our accessible room with the promised roll-in shower. So far, so good.
Of course, travel loves to throw the occasional curveball. The bed was far too high for me to safely transfer onto, and the toilet had a Japanese aftermarket bidet attachment, which I think is called a Washlet, which made it impossible to position my commode over it. So, back down to reception I went.
Housekeeping was sent up, and eventually, both issues were resolved. By the time everything was sorted, it was 2:15 am before we could finally call it a night.
The Penultimate Day & Ready for Sydney
After so much planning, excitement, and anticipation, the penultimate day of our trip has finally arrived. Strangely enough, for perhaps the first time in my life, I actually find myself looking forward to heading back to Sydney.
The main reason? I am incredibly sore. Hotel beds, as many of you know, are not always designed with accessibility in mind. For me, the daily routine involves multiple transfers: onto the bed at night, onto a commode in the morning for showering and toileting, back to the bed to get dressed, and finally into my wheelchair for the day. Add the evening transfer back into bed, and that makes five transfers in total.
When the bed is too low, it might be easy enough to get onto, but painfully difficult to get off again. After struggling through this routine day after day, my shoulders, already prone to issues and physiotherapy every Monday, finally gave out. This morning, I simply couldn’t get out of bed on my own.
Linda, despite feeling unwell herself, did her best to help. But being of a smaller build, she struggled too. So, I asked her to call reception and request assistance. To their credit, three security guards arrived within minutes and carefully lifted me onto the commode. They were not only efficient but incredibly kind and respectful. One even gave us a direct number to call tomorrow morning to make sure our departure goes smoothly. It was such a positive experience.
“WTF”, I hear you say, but when compared to an earlier incident in the States, actually in Las Vegas, this was handled brilliantly. On our second morning at the New York-New York Hotel, I attempted a transfer and fell onto the floor. Linda, being unable to lift me back onto the commode, called reception. The receptionist asked my weight, and upon hearing “90 kilos,” they refused to send anyone, saying they weren’t allowed to help. Instead, they called the paramedics. I braced myself for questions about insurance or even a bill, but to my surprise, the paramedics were fantastic, professional, friendly, and incredibly understanding. It gave me a new appreciation for the work they do, especially knowing my nephew in Atlanta is also a paramedic.
After this Morning’s Little Adventure, Linda and I managed to have breakfast together downstairs. She’s been resting since, trying to recover from feeling unwell. Fingers crossed she’ll be well enough for us to enjoy the Luau show tonight, right outside our hotel at the Hyatt Regency Waikiki.
The afternoon was spent packing for tomorrow’s early start. I booked a wheelchair taxi, then we planned one final dinner before heading to bed, ready for the 10‑plus hour flight back to Sydney on QF104.
Homeward Bound, And Qantas Drops the Ball
Getting off the plane was a bit awkward. The aisle chair was brought in by only one staff member, who seemed unsure of the process. It wasn’t until a flight attendant stepped in that the proper straps and belts were used. A little slower than usual, but eventually I was safely back in my wheelchair.
The final part of the trip was where Qantas slipped up. They misplaced my Phoenix Instinct travel bag, which contained my CPAP machine. I eventually got it back the next day, but it was a reminder that even with experience and careful planning, airlines can still make avoidable mistakes. The one positive takeaway is that these things can happen to anyone, whether you’re able-bodied or a wheelchair user. Then a taxi back to my apartment, a 10-minute trip.
This trip was more than a holiday. It reminded me that there are still beauty, joy, challenge and adventure in life after paralysis. There were delays, frustrations and moments of exhaustion, but there were also glaciers, sunsets and a ticking off another bucket list trip, Alaska.
To Linda – thank you, and to every wheelchair user reading this, don’t let fear hold you back. Adventure still exists. It just rolls forward differently.
“From glaciers to the Grand Canyon, the wheels keep turning, with a few lessons learned, but so does life in general.”
Travel Lessons Learned
- Airlines must carry necessary medical items free, but you may need to explain what they’re for.
- In places like Honolulu, pre-book accessible taxis at least 48 hours ahead; the same can be said for railway stations, some stations want you to pre-book a ramp to get on the train.
- Don’t risk unsafe transfers. Ask for help.
- REMEMBER, take photos of your wheelchair before check-in.
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