Traveling abroad as a family is not for the faint of heart, and it’s especially difficult when faced with the European mindset on independence.
Written by John Morris, WheelchairTravel.org, April 30, 2025
This newsletter has a lot: The “just deal with it” mentality rooted in the medical model is harmful to disabled people, as it places the burden of overcoming accessibility barriers on disabled people themselves. Blandine is forced to carry a wheelchair ramp on the back of her wheelchair because so few businesses in Belgium have invested in step-free entrances. European governments and institutions must wake up and recognize that it is their responsibility to remove the physical, social and attitudinal barriers that exclude disabled people.
Had the Americans with Disabilities Act been in force, and had U.S. railroad company Amtrak been operating the train to Weiden, Germany, I would not have been separated from my family and left stranded for three days. European transportation providers must assess their accessibility policy from the ground up, revise discriminatory provisions, eliminate advance notification requirements, and empower more employees to ensure equal access.
Requiring any passenger to provide three days’ notice to board a train, with no guarantee that their request will be honored, is a damning indictment on the services (or lack thereof) provided to disabled people. Deutsche Bahn, and the German people, should be ashamed.. But let me preface that story with some thoughts on what accessibility is and why it’s important.
My most cherished freedom, apart from the freedom of speech, is self-determination or, using another word, independence. Within the disability community, independence takes many forms and presents itself in different ways, but I have long held that independence is at the very core of accessibility. For a business, product or service to be truly accessible, it must promote the independence of its users to the maximum extent possible.
As self-sufficient wheelchair users, Robert and I should be able to enter buildings, board planes, trains and automobiles, and travel on sidewalks the same way nondisabled people do — independently and without the assistance or intervention of another person. The world is not truly accessible, though, and we often require the help of others to do things that we could otherwise do on our own. When we are forced to rely on others for basic access, we feel frustrated, and perhaps even angry when the systems to provide access are beset with additional rules and restrictions — barriers that alienate and marginalize us on account of the fact that we are wheelchair users.
With that in mind, let’s get to the story!
KLM used to be my favorite European airline, but it’s made my “No Fly” list
We might have stolen a line from children’s book author Judith Viorst and titled this newsletter the “Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day,” but there is always good even amidst the chaos of a tough travel day.
We started the morning in London, England. The weather was beautiful and we had enjoyed our time in the British capital, which made leaving bittersweet.
There was a long travel day ahead of us: a connecting flight itinerary to Nuremberg, Germany via Amsterdam, Netherlands, followed by an hour-long train ride to the City of Weiden, Germany, where Stevie’s sister calls home. We had planned to spend a few days in Weiden before traveling to Austria.
Check-in at London Heathrow Airport Terminal 4 was a breeze (by European standards), and we enjoyed breakfast in the Plaza Premium lounge before our flight with KLM Royal Dutch Airlines. We were the first to board the aircraft and departed on time.
Weeks prior to the flight, I had gone through the onerous process of requesting disability assistance and clearing our wheelchairs for flight with KLM. I stipulated that our wheelchairs should be returned to the aircraft door in Amsterdam and reminded the captain on the day of travel.
After we arrived and passengers deplaned in Amsterdam, our wheelchairs were not returned to us the gate — KLM’s own “return to gate” tags were ignored, and baggage handlers took our wheelchairs to the connecting flight. We had planned to deplane, use the bathroom, and get a snack before our next flight, but couldn’t do any of that without our mobility devices.
A tense exchange occurred. Airport assistance staff claimed that returning our wheelchairs was “not possible.” Our only option was to be pushed in airport wheelchairs, they said. I refused outright and called their claims “nonsense.” It is possible, and I know that because I have transited the Amsterdam Schiphol Airport nearly 50 times as a wheelchair user.
Although I have faced off against bone-headed airline and airport staff many times, Robert has not, and he became both frustrated and anxious at the thought he would be denied his wheelchair. “Bring me my wheelchair now,” he exclaimed!
After more than an hour of debate, our wheelchairs were returned (an “I told you so” moment), and we were rushed to our connecting flight. In the course of that rushed transfer, Robert’s caster wheels caught on a piece of the floor that was not level. He face planted on the terminal floor.
The footplate on Robert’s brand-new wheelchair was broken off in the process (seriously, it’s two months old), and we later had to reattach it using zip ties.
💡
Pro tip: If you’re a wheelchair user, you can’t afford to travel without zip ties in your bag. They were a lifesaver on our trip!
I was absolutely livid. Seeing my kid face down, his wheelchair damaged, sprung a well of emotions that I had never experienced before. There was nothing Stevie or I could do with that frustration — we had to make our flight — and the persons responsible (KLM’s executive leadership) were in their offices miles away.
We made the flight to Nuremberg, which was operated by German Airways on behalf of KLM. As you might expect, on arrival, I was forced once again to argue for the return of our wheelchairs — the staff were hostile, but ultimately relented within 20 to 30 minutes. We were happy to be on our way.
😢
Side note: KLM used to be my favorite airline in Europe, and I even flew on their inaugural flight of the Boeing 787, but their lack of respect for disabled passengers is unacceptable. My last 5 trips with the carrier have been a disaster and I have often missed my connecting flights while arguing for the return of my wheelchair. Until significant changes are made, I plan to avoid the Dutch flag carrier.
Deutsche Bahn, European Train Policies and the Separation of My Family
We took the U-Bahn subway from Nuremberg Airport to Nuremberg Hauptbahnhof (the central train station), where we were set to catch our train to Weiden.
More than a month before our trip, I purchased our train tickets via the Deutsche Bahn website. I subsequently reached out to the “Mobility Service Center” via email to request a wheelchair ramp for boarding, and believed everything was squared away.
When we arrived at the train station, staff had no record of our assistance reservation. How could this be? Well, as it turns out, I had made multiple train reservations (including a trip to Austria, and another from Hamburg to Frankfurt), and I missed their request to verify the weight of my wheelchair for this particular journey. Because I did not confirm that the wheelchair weighed less than 350 kilograms (772 pounds), my assistance was not arranged.
No problem, I thought. We have 45 minutes until the train departs and it is a 75 minute ride — surely they can correct the error by then? No, not in Germany.
Here’s what the Deutsche Bahn website says about assistance requests:
The Mobility Service Centre organises any assistance you may require when boarding, alighting or getting around the train, such as a lift for your wheelchair. We can also answer questions about suitable trains, accessibility at stations and minimum transfer times.
We recommend that you book this service no later than 8:00 pm on the day before your trip, so that you can complete your journey according to plan. If you are travelling abroad, please contact us at least 24 hours in advance.
Knowing that, I thought — in a worst-case scenario, we may be forced to overnight in Nuremberg but could take the first train in the morning to Weiden.
Again, the answer was “No.”
For wheelchair users traveling to or from Weiden Station, I was told, Deutsche Bahn must have at least 72 hours of notice to provide assistance. That’s a significant difference from “no later than 8:00 pm on the day before your trip” and the exception is listed nowhere on the Deutsche Bahn website. For us, it was an insurmountable barrier. We were only going to be in Weiden for three days!
Not wanting Stevie to miss out on time with her sister, I sent her and Robert on the train we had originally booked. Robert was able to negotiate the steps, and his manual wheelchair could be carried onboard. As for me, I stayed behind… for three days. Though we were separated, it was the best decision available to us — Stevie got to see her sister, and I was left to explore Nuremberg until we reunited in Austria a few days later.
After I waved them goodbye, I began my search for a hotel room. The Holiday Inn Nuremberg City Center had an accessible room available, and was located about half a mile away. I made a booking on my smartphone, rolled there in my wheelchair and was relieved to have a place to relax after such a stressful day.
The barriers to accessibility instituted by Deutsche Bahn forced us to spend one-third of our European trip apart, but that was not the only cost. There was a financial cost too — a hotel room in Nuremberg, the lost value of train tickets, restaurant meals and more added up to about $500 in additional expenses. There is a financial cost to inaccessibility, and it’s an unfair burden that disabled people should not be forced to bear.
The European Mindset on In(dependence)
European countries have instituted systems that do not foster the independence of disabled people, but instead require us to seek permission to travel and participate in society. Onerous barriers that restrict freedom of movement and spontaneity are commonplace, and they together force disabled people into a cycle of dependence that denies equal opportunity.
My experience with Deutsche Bahn may seem shocking to readers in the United States, where wheelchair users can book a train ticket right up to departure. Disabled travelers have an unquestioned right to “turn up and go” without any advance notice. Providing assistance to board the train is Amtrak’s responsibility and, if station staff are not available to deploy a wheelchair ramp or lift, that responsibility passes to the train conductor. The same right to “turn up and go” applies to disabled airline passengers as well.
Many European transportation providers require that wheelchair users request assistance 24 hours in advance to travel by train, and 48 hours in advance to travel by air. Submitting an on-time request is no guarantee of assistance, though, as requests are often denied!
One of my very good friends, Blandine Even of Mille découvertes sur 4 roulettes (A Thousand Discoveries on 4 Wheels), recently commented on rail accessibility in her home country of Belgium:
Even in train stations where it is possible to reserve assistance, assistance is sometimes refused due to lack of available staff… Even by reserving a week in advance!
Yes, you read that correctly: Even with one week of advance notice, Blandine is sometimes unable to board a train. It’s impossible to achieve equality in systems that impose an undue burden on disabled people by restricting them from the freedoms of choice, movement and spontaneity that their nondisabled peers enjoy.
What leads to these divergent experiences in the United States and Europe? I contend that Europe’s complex web of barriers are rooted in a preference for the harmful medical model of disability, which is neatly contrasted with the social model in this video from a U.K. nonprofit:
The “just deal with it” mentality rooted in the medical model is harmful to disabled people, as it places the burden of overcoming accessibility barriers on disabled people themselves. Blandine is forced to carry a wheelchair ramp on the back of her wheelchair because so few businesses in Belgium have invested in step-free entrances. European governments and institutions must wake up and recognize that it is their responsibility to remove the physical, social and attitudinal barriers that exclude disabled people.
Had the Americans with Disabilities Act been in force, and had U.S. railroad company Amtrak been operating the train to Weiden, Germany, I would not have been separated from my family and left stranded for three days. European transportation providers must assess their accessibility policy from the ground up, revise discriminatory provisions, eliminate advance notification requirements, and empower more employees to ensure equal access.
Requiring any passenger to provide three days’ notice to board a train, with no guarantee that their request will be honored, is a damning indictment on the services (or lack thereof) provided to disabled people. Deutsche Bahn, and the German people, should be ashamed.