Chuck and Frank said they'd love to have my wife, Ute, and me. This confirms the theory of my friend John Hockenberry, the "Dateline NBC" correspondent. John believes those of us in wheelchairs are more creative than anyone else when it comes to solving our own problems. "I just show up," he told me, "and then figure out how I'm going to get where I need to go."

Winging It

The flight from Miami to London was seven hours and 49 minutes long. We were seated near a bathroom, so when I needed to go, my wife and the flight attendant picked me up and helped me walk. When we arrived in London Thursday morning, a small bus met us. I'd asked that no special arrangements be made for me, but I wondered how I was going to get up the bus's three steps.

I had underestimated Frank. Our driver had been told in advance about me and was ready to assist. First, they stored my scooter in the luggage compartment under the seats. Then Frank, Ute and our driver, Mike, lifted me up the steps into the bus. It went much more smoothly than I had expected, and that became the arrangement for the whole trip.

Our hotel was the Radisson Edwardian, located half a block from the British Museum. Frank had picked it because of its accessibility and its location near Soho, the theater district. I'd called the hotel in advance of our departure, asking for a couple of things I needed — an extra mattress on one of the beds and an extension on the toilet seat. They told me they'd take care of it, but when we arrived they had failed to look at the record. They did move fairly rapidly once I called from the room, however. In all other ways the room and the bathroom were accessible, although not up to ADA standards. There were even some hints of luxury, like a built-in pants presser!

Stepping Out to Dinner

That evening, we dined with Reverend Chuck at the Lansdowne Club, a historic site where the Treaty of Paris ending the American Revolution was drafted. When Chuck called to make reservations, he was told that the dining room was wheelchair accessible.

London's new cabs accommodate wheelchair users, and drivers are trained to assist.

We took one of London's new accessible cabs to dinner. The rear seating area of the taxi was quite spacious. The cab driver helped me out of my scooter and into a rear folding seat facing backward that was very close to the door. He then put my scooter in. Ute sat in the rear seat facing me.

When we arrived at the Lansdowne Club there were two steps outside, and I could see another flight of three steps inside followed by more stairs around the corner. It turned out this was the only entrance. Well, everyone pitched in and eventually got me and my scooter up the various flights of stairs to the first level.

There, after having a drink around the fire in the Wedgewood Room, we were told there was a lift (elevator) to the dining room on the next floor. That brought sighs of relief from those who had been doing the heavy lifting. But after we got off the lift, there were three more steps into the dining room. I thought of what John had told me earlier: If I hadn't just "shown up," I'd never have dined here and would have missed an excellent English dinner of lamb chops and mashed potatoes.

Burning Bright

The next morning we were off to the Tate Gallery to see the Blake exhibit. I was somewhat concerned about the accessibility of the Tate because it's a very old building (the new Tate Museum houses the modern collections), but I needn't have been. There's an accessible entrance on the side with a lift inside to take you to the main floor. The entire museum is serviced by lifts.

I had studied William Blake's poetry at college, where I majored in English. It was a long time ago, but I don't remember learning that he was also a gifted illustrator and artist. For instance, my favorite poem of his, "The Tyger," takes on a whole different look when you see that it was only a part of a brilliant color engraving using a technique that Blake invented to merge his poetry and his art together.

Tyger, tyger, burning bright
In the forests of the night:
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

The exhibit included Blake's poetry and paintings, which were all based on biblical themes and stories, as well as the printing press and engraver's plates he used to get his unusual effects.

A Spot of Drama

That evening Ute and I had tickets to see Vanessa Redgrave in Anton Chekhov's "The Cherry Orchard" at England's National Theatre. The building contains three separate theaters, 2,500 seats in all. Our play was in the Olivier Theater, which has an open stage with a half-circle of seats surrounding it.

We found this note in our program: "The National aims to be accessible and welcoming to all, is committed to making your visit easy and enjoyable and has implemented a program of Disability Awareness Training for its staff." The note mentions performances signed for the deaf and audio-described for the blind; the infrared audio system for the hard of hearing; and certain seats being reserved for persons with guide dogs. I could see a good number of spaces for wheelchairs placed strategically all over the theater in every price range.

We attended two more plays during our visit. The first, "Blood Brothers," was at the Phoenix Theater, an older playhouse. The accessible seats consisted of a private box in the balcony with its own bathroom, the best seats in the house!

The other show was "The Woman in Black," which has been running since 1987 at the Fortune Theater, built right after World War I. They took us to a side door that opened onto the balcony, but there were three good-sized steps to get to it. It was "accessible" only with the usher's help.

A Renovated Museum and Some Shopping

Saturday we decided to visit the newly renovated British Museum in the morning and go to the famous department store, Harrods, for lunch and some shopping.

The venerable British Museum has been renovated and is almost completely accessible.

The British Museum was originally designed as a group of buildings around a large, square courtyard. But just last year the museum finished building a glass-and-steel dome over the entire space, which is approximately the size of a British football field. Using 3,312 glass panes, each one unique, it's the largest covered square in Europe.

The whole museum is much more accessible than it used to be. I couldn't find a space in the entire place that I couldn't get into comfortably, including the restaurant and bathroom. The museum is so large and has so much good stuff that, after spending the morning in the famous Egyptian galleries, we decided to return another day.

As we expected, Harrods' famous food court was filled with places to eat, though the food itself was a bit disappointing. We didn't buy anything at Harrods. I was actually shopping for a Burberry raincoat, but prices started at $600 — a bit steep for the honor of purchasing it at Harrods.

A Day in the Country

Author Andy Vladimir and pastor Chuck Eastman visited Stonehenge on a rainy day.

Sunday was our excursion day. We were going to Stonehenge and Bath. It was a rainy and windy day, not really suitable for outdoors, but we weren't deterred.

The paths at Stonehenge are completely accessible, but, of course, you can't touch or get too close to the monument of huge stones arranged some 5,000 years ago by some ancient culture we know very little about. Our guide was certain that the Druids didn't build Stonehenge. That theory has long been debunked, leaving scientists with little else to offer in its place.

Bath, in southeast England a couple of hours from London, was for me a major disappointment. Our guide had thought there'd be no access to the Roman baths, built on the site of a natural hot spring some 2,000 years ago, but that I'd be able to visit the museum.

When we arrived we found that both the museum and the site were down a steep set of stairs and there was no elevator in the building. That meant I stayed while everyone else went.

However, in the same building with the baths is the famous Pump Room, opened in 1706 and mentioned in much period literature such as the books of Jane Austen. It was teatime so I settled down for a traditional English tea of crumpets, jam and clotted cream.

As for the celebrated healing waters of Bath, they're sold by the glass. I learned that because I was disabled the drinks were on the house. I had one glass of the warm water with a slightly sulfuric taste.

What I learned from my London trip is that the London I knew is no longer completely accessible to me since I lost the use of my legs. It was a real hassle getting around, and, if not for the help and support of nine very good friends, I couldn't have done it all. It was also very tiring, and I returned home with a case of pneumonia.

Nevertheless, I enjoyed myself thoroughly.