A Short Break in London

Life as a ‘Tuber’
A Short Break in London
Although we’d been together for some time, with me now at eighty and June
fast approaching the same, we decided that we should get married. So, on the
week of her eightieth birthday, we officially tied the knot in the Bideford
registry office. It was a lovely family occasion, duly followed by a small
reception for about forty family and friends in our house in Ilfracombe.
A few days later we travelled up to London to stay in the Union Jack Club at
Waterloo where we would quietly celebrate our marriage by having a romantic
short break. The UJ Club was established to provide a base for current serving
and former military personnel when visiting the capital - and I, having
previously served in the RAF, find it ideal for us when we’re in London.
On our first morning, we had a most informative guided architectural tour of
the beautiful Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. This was followed by an
afternoon in St Martin in the Fields, just off Trafalgar Square. There we listened
to a classical music concert by a quartet of piano, violin, viola and cello – a
beautiful combination.
Following the concert, we made our way back to Waterloo, where we knew of
a nice restaurant where June could have an evening meal and I, hopefully,
would be able to have something prepared specially for me by the chef - or
more usually if that was not possible, sit and have a couple of bottles of my
Ensure 2Cal, which I always take with me when we go out anywhere.
We had previously dined in other branches of this restaurant and found them
very sympathetic to my special requirements. Even if the chef was unable to
properly liquidise something for me, I could always sit and have my bottles
whilst June would have something from the menu.
With that in mind, we subsequently took the underground back to Waterloo
and strolled along to the South Bank complex, where the restaurant was
situated. So far, our romantic stay was going extremely well.
“A table for two sir, madam?”
“Yes please”, June, who was in front of me replied to the waitress. “But only
one person for eating,” she added. “My husband has a hidden disability and

can’t take anything by mouth. He has to bring his own feeding equipment and
specially prepared liquid food. Is that ok?”
“I’ll go and speak to the manager.” The waitress replied, “In the meantime,
would you like to take a seat?”
I had spied an unoccupied table for two in a nice quiet corner and ushering
June towards it, I said to the waitress, “Shall we go over there?” Since
becoming a ‘tuber’ I’ve learnt that when it comes to restaurants and other
such-like establishments, it pays to be quietly and politely assertive.
We made our way to the table and sat down while June started to peruse the
menu. From my small back-pack, I took out the two bottles containing my
‘evening meal’, along with my syringe, extension tube and pack of paper
napkins, and placed them prominently on the table. (I find it easier to produce
everything for the restaurant staff to see, rather than try to explain why I can’t
eat. It’s also particularly helpful if the staff are non-English speakers).
In no time at all, the manager, came rushing up to our table and quite loudly
said that it was company policy not to allow people to bring their own food
into the restaurant and we would have to leave. We explained that we
understood that, but as I was unable to consume anything at all by mouth, I
had to have specially prepared liquid food which wasn’t available in the
restaurant. I told him that all I wanted to do was sit quietly, and discretely
administer my nutrition while my wife enjoyed her meal. I also added that all I
asked of his restaurant was a glass of water.
He just wouldn’t listen to what we were saying. All he could do was keep
arguing and repeating that it was ‘Company Policy in case anything happened’. I
wasn’t sure what he thought could happen by my consuming my own food.
I started to get quite irate at this point and rather forcefully told him that my
condition was in fact, a hidden disability and that he was required to
accommodate me. I also explained to him that my wife and I had frequented
many eating establishments world wide, as well as other branches of his
restaurant in and around London and this was the very first time I’d ever been
told I couldn’t consume my own specially prepared food while my wife ate
something from the menu. As this was creating a bit of a scene in the
restaurant, he eventually capitulated and decided to allow me ‘on this one
occasion’, to consume my own food.

Had it not been so late in the evening, now that I had made my point, I would
have walked out and found somewhere else - but as we were both tired and
hungry after our busy day, we decided to stay, have our meal and just let things
ride for the moment.
June subsequently ordered the egg ratatouille, which turned out to be delicious
and I proceeded to administer my bottles of Ensure 2Cal via my syringe and
extension tube.
However, I have to say that in the manager’s favour when I asked for the bill, he
came up to our table and informed us that there would be no charge and to
accept his apologies. I thanked him gracefully, but also suggested that he
should inform himself of the various requirements in place when dealing with
people like me who have special needs - whether they be hidden or visible
disabilities.
Having undergone the stress of having to argue with the manager, the edge
had completely been taken off what should have been a perfect day for us and
we both felt rather deflated as we made our way back to the UJ Club. However,
the experience of that episode only reinforced my resolve not to just stand
back and meekly accept what jobsworths tell us.
In complete contrast, the next morning at breakfast we were welcomed with
open arms by the brilliant restaurant staff at the Union Jack Club. They couldn’t
do enough for me. The head waiter actually accompanied me around the
breakfast buffet while I chose my breakfast of an orange, banana, apple,
yoghurt and oats. He then took my bowl into the kitchen to liquidise it, adding
a variety of berries and full fat milk to make up the required quantity. One of
my favourite breakfasts - almost like being at home. Then to cap it all, the
manager came to see me, asking if everything was to my liking and adding that
if I needed anything at all, to let her know.
On the whole, our romantic short break in London turned out to be a huge
success for us and apart from the restaurant episode, I found that no matter
where I went, people in cafes, restaurants and public places were more than
helpful and always extremely sympathetic to my special requirements as a
‘tuber’.
Jim Turner