Everything is Possible

Copyright © 2016 by Martyn Sibley. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any written, electronic, recorded, or photocopied form without written permission of the publisher or author. An exception would be when using brief quotations in critical articles, reviews, and pages when permission is specifically granted by the publisher or author.

Editing by: Nichola Daunton

Cover Design by: Filipe Roldao

Printed in the United Kingdom

First Printing, 2016

ISBN 978-1-326-57022-4

www.MartynSibley.com

DEDICATIONS

This is dedicated to my soul mate Kasia who has shared many of these adventures with me. This is also for my mum, dad, and sister for their unconditional love. Plus for all of my family and friends whose love/support/encouragement helped my dreams to come true. You know who you are anyway :-)

AKNOWLEDGEMENTS

There's so many people to thank for bringing this huge project together. Apologies if you didn’t get a name check below, but you were equally important.

Firstly a big thank you to the Kickstarter crowdfunders. An amazing 65 people helped fund the costs of publishing this book. Without whom, the book would still be in my head and not down on paper. Paper full of words for others to use and enjoy. A huge fistbump goes to all of the disabled people (and their families and friends) who inspired and informed me on how to live a fulfilling life. I hope this book does the same to many others in the future.

A massive thank you goes to my friend and editor, Nichola Daunton, for our long chats about what to include and not to include. Her literary knowledge and expertise has made this book happen. Also thanks to the omnipresent Filipe Roldao for his book design and general support. I think you'll agree the cover is fantastic. Last, but not least, to Jon Morely for his much appreciated input and advice.

A few others deserve a hat tip too. AJ and Melissa Leon from Misfit Inc mentored me into blogging - it's amazing to look back at what I've achieved since starting my blog. My friend Srin Madipalli and I created Disability Horizons and Accomable together. The vast impact made, the team members and their communities deserve lots of gratitude. Also charities like Scope and SMA Support UK have been hugely helpful on this journey. As have Carrie-Ann from Tourism for All, and Ivor Ambrose from the European Network for Accessible Tourism. Plus all the many other professionals, organisations and tourist boards along the way. Collaboration always wins the day!

CONTENTS

Chapter One - The Biographical Bit

Birth of the Baby Milk Boy

The Only Disabled in the Village

The Special Bus

Wish You Were Here? (Minus Judith Chalmers)

Teenage Kicks

Sent to Coventry

Chapter Two - Australia

Becoming a culture vulture

If you’re going to aim, aim high

Who wants a free(ish) trip to Australia?

Healthy body, healthy mind

Hey ho, let’s go!

From Singapore to Sydney

There’s no such thing as a free lunch

Everybody needs good Neighbours

Summer, summer, summertime!

One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor

Chapter Three – America

American Boy

Mexican or Mexican’t?

California Dreamin’

What happens in Vegas…

California Loooooove!

From celebrity central, to cold, snowy England

Chapter Four – Adventure

Flying a plane in Salisbury

SCUBA Diving in Tenerife

Hot air ballooning in Catalonia

Tree Climbing in the New Forest

Abseiling in Exmoor

Skiing at La Molina

Husky Dog Sleighing in Finland

What Disability?

John O’Groats to Lands End Trip

(Not so) Little Britain

Green and Pleasant Lands

Chapter Five – Europe

Aviles, the EVS, and accessible living

The Epic European Disability Road Trip

Europe Without Barriers

Chapter Six – Japan

Tokyo Drift

Chapter Seven – Technology and the Future of Accessible Travel

Dream – A Flying Wheelchair

Reality – Airport Innovation

The Aviramp

The Eagle Hoist

Dream – Going it alone

Reality – Small changes, big improvement

The Oasis Seated Shower System

Clos-o-Mat Toilets

Aquarius Portable Bidet

Go Mobility Shower Chair

Dream – Where’s Wallace and Gromit when you need them?

Reality – It’s not so far from the dream!

Japanese care robots

Dream – Climbing stairs and exploring beaches

Reality – is that a monster truck or a chair?

The life and death of the iBot

Sand Chairs

3D Printing and disability

BONUS BONANZA

Before you get settled in to reading about my background, barriers and beautiful adventures, there's one more thing to mention. Having doubted, struggled, and questioned so many things myself in the past, this book is to help you through these exact same moments.

In knowing that others found solutions and success gives us all hope. In understanding HOW they did it gives us a pathway and new tools. There's plenty of inspiration and information in this book, but I wanted to give you much more.

To thank you so much for taking the time to read my book, and as a way of expressing my gratitude, I've put together some bonuses for you:

1. Exciting full colour photos of all my adventures.

2. All of the videos mentioned in the book too.

Check them out here: www.MartynSibley.com/EverythingIsPossibleBook

Chapter One - The Biographical Bit

Birth of the Baby Milk Boy

Hello, my name’s Martyn Sibley, and like most autobiographies, mine begins with a lot of screaming and a birth. When I was born, way back in the mists of time, or 1983 to be precise, I was born with a rare genetic condition called SMA or Spinal Muscular Atrophy. Being born with SMA (type II if you want to get technical about it) wasn’t exactly random potluck, because although my parents didn’t know it at the time, they both carried a faulty SMN1 gene, which meant that any child they had together would have a 1 in 4 chance of being born with some variant of the condition.

My parents had met while they were both working in the insurance business at General Accident in Cambridge, not far from where they eventually settled together near the little town of St Ives  - which is sadly often overshadowed by its much hipper namesake in Cornwall; and after a wedding, a honeymoon and a few years interlude, I was welcomed into the world on the 3rd September 1983.

To most people, SMA is a popular brand of baby milk formula and nothing more, but to those of us who are familiar with or have the condition, SMA means Spinal Muscular Atrophy, a group of conditions of which there are four types (I, II, III and IV– very creatively!). In simple terms, Spinal Muscular Atrophy is a genetic disease that leads to various levels of muscle weakness depending on the type the person has. This muscle weakness, caused by the deterioration of the motor neurones which connect the brain and the spinal cord, means that people with SMA often have trouble with sitting up, walking, and as a baby, crawling. How exactly SMA affects you depends on the type you have, with type I being the most severe. For me, SMA meant that I got my first electric wheelchair at the age of 3 and needed to be carried around a lot as a baby and a toddler as my movement was restricted. Although it is necessary for me to explain my condition so you have a bit of context, this book isn’t about SMA. It isn’t even really about being disabled, though obviously that is a major part of my life. It is about overcoming challenges and realizing what you can achieve, whatever you feel is holding you back.

So now the science bit is over, lets get back to my family. After putting lots of thought into it, my parents decided to have another child, despite now being aware that this child would also have a 1 in 4 chance of being born with SMA too. Though this obviously added a bit more stress than usual to the pregnancy, my parents were as prepared as they could be for any eventuality and Claire Sibley (Claire Bear to her friends and family) came kicking and screaming into the world. The fact that Claire was kicking, screaming and moving around from the very beginning soon proved to my parents that she didn’t have SMA, as I had been the complete opposite as a baby. Though it is interesting to note, that while everyone therefore assumed Claire would be the one who would be the most curious and keen to explore the world, it is actually me who has been the one eager to go travelling and explore new places, whereas Claire is a self-confessed home bird. Stereotypes eh!

So with Claire’s birth, our little family unit of four was complete (though it was to increase in ways we couldn’t yet imagine) and it was time for me to take the plunge and start school.

The Only Disabled in the Village

St Ives and the surrounding villages are small, and at this point in its history I was well and truly the only disabled in the village. Zipping around in my electric wheelchair from the age of 3 years old, I think you can imagine that I was a hard kid to ignore. But whereas in some places in the world, being the only disabled person might bring negative attention, in St Ives I couldn’t have been more at home. Whether I was playing football with my friends (dribbling the ball on my foot rest) or enlisting the fastest kid in town to go and catch the girl of my childhood dreams during a game of kiss chase, all the kids at my school, Holywell Primary, treated me just like any other kid. That’s the great thing about children, unless you teach them that something is weird, or let your prejudices rub off on them, generally they’ll treat everyone exactly the same. All they need is a short explanation of why someone is in a wheelchair or has a disability, and they’ll just except it and get on with it.

At school, I was lucky enough to be very well catered for, with a number of excellent LSA’s (Learning Support Assistants) at my disposal. This meant I never missed out on anything, and that I got exactly the same level of education as everyone else in my class. In a different environment, I’m well aware that being the only disabled child in my school, and indeed the whole village, could’ve been a very lonely experience for me. But as everyone in the village treated me just the same as everybody else, despite the extra help I often needed, I never had to define myself by my disability and I never internalized it in the way that I otherwise might. I’m sure, that just like anyone who feels different (and who doesn’t at some point?) I must’ve wondered why me? but these feelings did not define my childhood and I generally felt happy and settled in my life and at my school. As I worked my way towards the end of primary school though, all this would change.

The Special Bus

Inaccessible. If you’re disabled or have a mobility issue, you’ll have heard that word more times that you care to remember. Sadly, the UK, like many other countries around the world, still have a long way to go when it comes to accessibility and ensuring public spaces are open to all. At the age of 11 I’d no doubt already experienced my fair share of inaccessible buildings, but this didn’t affect me on such a gut-wrenching level until I was unable to go to the same secondary school as all of my friends.

All of a sudden, my disability was stopping me from doing something that I really wanted to do. The school was inaccessible, and no amount of learning support would enable me to go there. The world I had felt so safe and secure in had been ripped from under my wheels and I would have to go to a secondary school 16 miles away in the neighbouring village of Impington. Even worse, I would have to get on the special bus every morning to get there. The special bus was an accessible bus full of other disabled children who also had to travel from the surrounding villages of Cambridgeshire to attend Impington Village College. As the only disabled kid in my area, I hadn’t really been around other disabled people before, so being thrown into the world of disability and all that it entailed was something of a culture shock to 11 year old me. Suddenly I was made conscious of my own disability and all the negative stereotypes, restrictions and connotations that came with it. Needless to say, I wasn’t happy. Leaving all your friends behind to attend a school where you know no one is tough for any child, but being suddenly lumbered with the awareness that the reason for this is that you’re different and your difference can’t always be accommodated, adds another level of confusion, frustration and sadness to the mix.

While it certainly look me a while to adjust to getting on the special bus every morning and all that this implied about my life and the limitations that were being placed on me,