Revelio, and other spells of access

 I’m a Harry Potter fan. Not in a crazy, wizardry fangirl kind of way, but more in a mature, deep-appreciation-for-great-literature kind of way. So when I got the chance to visit England, I wanted to see all the notable sites, including Platform 9 ¾ at London Kings Cross train station. 

I wasn’t really sure how the Brits feel about Harry Potter and his worldwide popularity, but I was surprised to find that they were quite favorable toward him and proudly pointed out Goathland train depot and the Millennium Bridge, both made famous by being featured in the Harry Potter movies.

So when we got off the train at Kings Cross and were rushing along to meet our cab driver, the train employee who was assisting us was more than happy to indulge our desire for a quick photo at the renowned platform.

“But there will be quite a queue, so I’ll take you by way of a short cut,” he said, and in true Disney World fashion, he whisked us through a door and led us down some hidden hallways and through several employee entrances, ushering us right to the front of a very long line of tourists who were patiently waiting their turn. 

I had no idea it was such a production, with a professional photographer, a basket full of props, and a director telling people how to tilt their wand and kick up their foot and fling their scarf for the desired effect.

My friend Anna asked me what color scarf she should wear, and I said, “Oh you are definitely a Hufflepuff!” 

She blinked at me, waiting for me to answer her question, adding, “Does blue or green go better with my outfit?” 

Horrified at the sudden realization that my friend was shockingly ignorant of all things Hogwarts, I said, “Just wear the gold scarf and hold this wand!” 

I felt sheepish about cutting the line, so we opted to just have my dad take an "amateur" picture (which we had originally planned on anyway) and then handed our props to the next person in line and thanked them for their involuntary patience. 

That was just the beginning of the royal treatment we received in London. Wheelchairs are positioned at the front of the crowd to have an unimpeded view of the-changing-of-the-guard, and disabled people have their own special entrances and escorts into and around many old establishments that would otherwise be inaccessible. 

And did you know that every black cab in the city is wheelchair accessible? That was amazing to me, and every time we needed a ride, they parked right at the curb and rolled their ramp out like a red carpet. Most of the trains and buses were also accessible, too, as well as the sidewalks. 

In fact, transportation felt so effortless, at times I forgot I was wheelchair-bound - and I just love when that happens! It’s almost like my wheelchair dons its own Invisibility Cloak and I can freely move about and just be me. 

Of course, London is a very old city with some very old things. There were places I couldn’t access, and I expected that; it’s a good thing I have a brilliant imagination to fill in the gaps. What I didn’t expect was how kind and accommodating everyone was to me. There were little discomforts and disappointments along the way, but I didn’t let the limitations ruin an otherwise charming and beautiful vacation. 

After all, if it hadn’t been for my wheelchair, we wouldn’t have had a personal escort to the front of the line at Platform 9 ¾ and we might have missed our ride on the Hogwarts Express!