The Holiday Started at the Airport

For many families, a holiday begins when they arrive at the hotel. For us, it begins the moment we walk through the airport doors.

Before the swimming pools, the sea-view balcony and the hotel buffet, there is check-in. Then security. Then waiting at the gate. Then boarding an aeroplane with hundreds of other people while trying to look as though this is a completely normal thing to do.

For Kya, every part of that journey could be difficult. Airports are bright, busy and unpredictable. There are queues that suddenly stop, announcements nobody can understand and people moving in every direction.

This time, however, we were flying from Cardiff Airport with TUI. From the moment we arrived, we were helped.

Someone knew where we needed to be

We had arranged special assistance before travelling. That phrase can sound rather formal. In reality, it meant somebody understood that we might need a little more time and a little less uncertainty.

The team met us at Cardiff Airport and helped us through check-in. They guided us through security, stayed with us as we made our way towards the aircraft and helped us board.

There was no rushing. No standing in a busy area wondering where we were supposed to go next. No trying to keep an eye on Kya while also reading a departure board, finding passports and listening for instructions.

Somebody knew where we needed to be. They simply took us there.

That support was for Kya, but it helped Sarah and me just as much. We could concentrate on her rather than worrying about the airport.

We were not tense. We were not snapping at each other over passports that were already safely in my hand. We were not pretending to be calm while silently imagining seventeen different ways we might miss the flight.

We could breathe.

And because we could breathe, so could Kya.

Kya notices us

Kya notices far more than people sometimes realise.

She may not always understand every word being spoken, but she knows when Sarah or I are stressed. She sees it in our faces. She hears it in our voices. She feels it when we start moving too quickly or repeatedly checking the same bag.

If we are anxious, Kya becomes anxious too.

That does not mean we can simply decide never to feel stressed. We are parents travelling with passports, luggage, headphones, chargers and a daughter who needs to know that everything is all right. There will always be some worry.

Good support removes the unnecessary parts.

The assistance did not simply get us through the airport. It changed the way the whole family experienced the journey.

Menorca understood too

When we arrived in Menorca, we wondered whether we would receive the same level of understanding.

We did not need to ask.

Members of the airport team noticed Kya’s sunflower lanyard. They approached us, guided us through arrivals and helped us through passport control.

Again, somebody else knew the route. Again, we were not left standing in a noisy crowd wondering which queue we needed.

The sunflower lanyard cannot tell somebody everything about Kya. It cannot explain what sounds she finds difficult, how she communicates or what helps when she feels anxious. But on that day, it gave the staff enough information to notice that we might need support.

They noticed. They helped. And the holiday continued as calmly as it had begun.

The apartment came first

Once we arrived at the hotel, Kya’s first priority was not the sea. It was not the sunshine. It was not the collection of swimming pools waiting outside.

It was the apartment.

Kya needs to know where she is sleeping. She needs to see the room, the bathroom and the balcony. She needs to understand that this will be her base.

Once the apartment is right, everything else becomes possible.

Ours was lovely. It was spacious, comfortable and had a balcony overlooking the sea. We could sit outside and watch the world without needing to be in the middle of it.

The apartment gave Kya somewhere familiar to return to after every trip, meal and swim. Hotels can be busy, but the room was ours. It was quiet when we needed quiet. It was predictable. Nothing was expected of her there.

She could watch her Kindle, settle into her routines and take a break from the rest of the holiday.

As long as Kya is comfortable with where we are staying, she is usually willing to explore what is outside it.

Pools and as much food as humanly possible

The hotel had several swimming pools. This was useful because it gave us plenty of opportunities to spend twenty minutes deciding which pool to use before eventually returning to the first one.

There were quiet areas, busier areas and enough space for Kya to enjoy the water without feeling crowded.

There was also food. A great deal of food. Possibly more food than should legally be allowed in one building.

Breakfast led naturally into lunch. Lunch somehow became snacks. Then there was dinner, followed by the important holiday tradition of wondering whether we could manage one more dessert.

We usually could.

Buffets can be difficult because they are busy and full of choices, smells and noise. But they also have an advantage for Kya. She can see the food before it reaches her plate. She can choose something she recognises. And if that choice is mainly beige, there is usually plenty of beige available.

Out and about

The apartment gave us the confidence to go exploring.

We visited Mahon and walked around the harbour. We went on a boat trip and saw the island from the water. We also drove to the top of what felt like an extremely large mountain.

It was the sort of mountain road where Sarah looked out of one window, I concentrated very hard on the road ahead, and neither of us mentioned how far down everything seemed.

Kya was perfectly happy. She trusted that we knew where we were going. This was generous of her because, at certain points, I was not entirely sure that we did.

At the top, the views stretched across the island. It was one of those moments when you stop and realise how far Kya has come. Not only up the mountain, although that was quite far too.

There was a time when even a short car journey could be difficult. Now she was travelling through Menorca, visiting towns, going on boats and exploring new places.

She did not need every part of the holiday to be familiar. She only needed enough familiar things around the new ones.

• Her family
• Her apartment
• Her Kindle
• Her headphones
• Knowing what came next

Support changes the whole holiday

Accessible travel is sometimes described as though it is only about getting somebody from one place to another.

Accessibility is also about reducing uncertainty. It is about avoiding an unnecessary queue. It is about a member of staff noticing a sunflower lanyard and offering help without making a fuss. It is about allowing a family to board calmly rather than joining a sudden rush at the gate.

It is about making sure parents have enough energy left to support their child.

The help we received at Cardiff Airport, from TUI and at Menorca Airport did not end when we left the terminal. Its effect travelled with us.

1. The journey went well. We arrived at the hotel feeling positive rather than exhausted.
2. We had energy to help Kya settle. The apartment quickly became her familiar base.
3. Kya felt safe enough to explore. The pools, meals and trips became things to enjoy rather than endure.

One piece of good support led to another good moment.

That is the part people sometimes miss. Helping an autistic traveller does not only affect the few minutes spent at security or passport control. It can shape the entire holiday.

Not every trip will be perfect

Travelling with Kya still requires planning. We charge everything that can be charged. We take more snacks than three people could reasonably eat. We check the passports repeatedly.

We think about seating, transfers, queues and how quickly we could return to the apartment if Kya needed a break.

Support does not remove every difficulty. It gives us more room to deal with the difficulties that remain.

It allows Kya to spend her energy enjoying the holiday rather than using it all to cope with the journey. It lets Sarah and me be Mum and Dad instead of airport coordinators, queue managers and nervous travel guides.

Most importantly, it allows us to enjoy being together.

The view from the balcony

In the evenings, we could return to the apartment and sit on the balcony overlooking the sea.

Kya was settled. Sarah and I were relaxed. Nothing needed organising for a little while.

The airport was behind us. The mountain was safely beneath us. There was probably another meal approaching, although it was sometimes difficult to tell where one finished and the next began.