The trouble with comics - James

I've got a headache. I feel like I've spent the night in the pub but without having had the luxury of actually going out and having a drink. I feel dizzy. I feel nauseous. Most of all, though, I feel frustrated.

Why? Because I can't read my comic books, that's why. Well, at least not for more than half an hour without getting eye strain and symptoms of travel sickness. It's become harder and harder to read comics over the years as my Retinitis Pigmentosa has slowly deteriorated my eyesight, but that doesn't seem to stop me trying.

I can just about manage with a normal book that has plain text from left to right and top to bottom using my analogue magnifier (on the very rare occasions in which my Kindle isn't to hand and so long as I have the correct lighting and something to prop the book up on) so I've been trying to figure out why comic books have come to elude me over the years… and the answer is right there on the page.

Comic books present the events of a story in a narratively uniform but not always visually uniform way. The panes that the stories are drawn into can be squares, rectangles (both horizontal and vertical) or even take up an entire page just to show one significant moment. It would be nice if this was consistent from comic to comic but often each page is an explosion of fluctuating visual perspectives and colours. They can feature close-ups on characters' faces or pull back to a wide shot of an entire city buzzing with activity that requires patient scrutiny. One thing remains the same though: the writing. And the writing is very small and not always in a straight-laced font. So not only do I have to contend with the shifting shapes and sizes of the action but I also have to zoom in even more on the speech bubbles when it's reading time.

And that's when the headaches start.

I've been experimenting with a range of devices to see what works the best in an attempt to solve the problem. I've tried my analogue magnifier, my electronic handheld magnifier, my CCTV, my mono-mouse and even, out of desperation, my monocular (leaning the comic book up against the back of my sofa and viewing it from the floor). What works the best so far is the simplest: the analogue magnifier; but the constant need to shift focus and proximity to the page still creates eye strain, nausea and sometimes back pain. The CCTV would probably be my next choice as I can move in and out without having to worry about lighting or my seating position – it all happens up there on screen at the touch of a button. The image on the electronic magnifier is a bit too jumpy (a combination of 'natural' digital flickering and the motion of my hand) and too bright and can make me feel travel sick very quickly. The mono-mouse, which has no zoom in/out function, is good for when the panes are small but for the larger images I find I have to use something else.

And the monocular? Well, the less said about that surreal little moment the better.

I'd like to say that I've solved the problem and can confidently announce what the solution is but I can't. I can only assume that in order to get through a whole book I'll have to sit there with my entire arsenal of magnification hardware and a box of anti-nausea tablets. So if a smarter visually impaired comic book geek than me out there has figured out what the solution is then I'd love to hear from them! Until then I'll have to keep on with my tests and get through about one comic book page a day.

Wish me luck!

Blind Sailing Week - Graham

Hi folks

I have just been asked if I want to go sailing off the south coast again with 'Blind Sailing Week', an annual event which gives sight impaired adults the chance to experience sailing on a large yacht for a full week at the beginning of July each year.

Grant, the organiser will be assuming that I already have it in my diary and the £200 cheque written out and signed in readiness, but this year, I am not going.

I have sailed with them for the last seven years and it has been an experience I would not have missed for the world, but for me, it is time for a change this year. I guess it's like anything nice or enjoyable, "you can have too much of a good thing". 

That said, I cannot do anything but encourage other sight impaired people up for an adventure to have a go. It doesn't matter if you have never sailed before. There is no upper age limit and you do or learn as much or as little as you want.

About 40 sight impaired people and 60 or so able-bodied crew/boat owners take part using about 20 sleek ocean-going boats so it is a big event and is a great way to make new friends, as well as bringing a bit of excitement into your life.

My only reservation is that if you find close proximity to others awkward it may not be for you as you share a boat for a week with four other people. If you get on OK with most folk and have ever shared a caravan, you should be fine.

Crew are trained to help even fully blind people to participate fully in the sailing process so you won't ever feel unsafe or a spare part.

My four key sailing tips (learned from experience) are:

• Take a wide-rimmed hat that ties under the chin
• ALWAYS use sunscreen, particularly on the face and lips.
• Sea sickness tablets are a good idea.
• Wet wipes are FANTASTIC.

Blind Sailing Week 2013 is hosted by the Royal Southampton Yacht Club and organised through Sporting Activities for the Disabled Charitable Trust. Contact Grant on 01225 336205.

A view from the bottom - Betsy

As a visually impaired person I am grateful to have any 'view'. In this case I am on my back, resting on my rucksack and a most clean and comfortable bed of moist mud.

I am at the bottom of a ditch, but not just any old ditch. This is the Lodge Moor conduit which brought drinking water from Redmires Reservoir to the Sheffield Reservoir (which is now the Weston Park playing fields). It is a famous waterway but I did not expect to be in the bottom of it!

As our Wednesday walk ambled along the conduit on the last lap to the bus at Lodge Moor, I stopped at the side of the path to shorten my walking pole, a bit of bank gave away and I was resting gently in the bottom, laughing my head off in unison with the happy faces peering down at me and feeling that it was my moment of fame as cameras clicked.

The inside of the conduit is quite interesting. At least four feet deep and almost as wide at the bottom, the sides slope outwards as they come down and are made of concrete, very smooth without so much as a fingertip hold. Earth and grass lean over the top edge and some must fall in without my help.

I am now feeling mud soaking into my undies and boots so I guess it's time to get out. Not an easy task! First I must extract one boot from a very clinging mud heap and then try to stand up. I cannot turn over on my knees and push myself up as there is too much mud and nothing to get hold of. Finally getting upright with my back against the offending bank, most of me is below the edge. After some painful arm pulling, someone with a tone of authority says to get my foot against the opposite bank, which I can just reach, and strong hands get under my armpits and I am lifted out with great dignity. Many thanks to all who helped.

Now however, I am matted with moist mud down my backside and have to get on a bus and then into a pub - I think I need a drink! When reaching a bench I put on my waterproofs - what else are they for - and I am presentable, if a bit damp in the nether regions.

If you feel you would like to investigate the inside of this conduit, I have one suggestion - take a ladder with you!

Too cocksure - Betsy

I enjoy walking around Sheffield, using my inefficient white cane technique and increasingly inefficient vision. My problems usually start when I approach a road, and someone grabs my arm and asks if I need any help. Now my plan is always to look in both directions and focus my ears, which are my most efficient sense. However, when the person grabbing me is elderly I hesitate before refusing assistance as I think we don't really value older people, and at 77 I do not think of myself as being in this category yet. So, I turn and smile at my eager elderly helper and say 'Thank you very much' and then disentangle my elbow from their hand and place my arm inside theirs. While crossing I look and listen as I do when on my own as I am always amazed at what fully sighted people do not see. When at the other side I again thank my helper and they limp off smiling and feeling they have really been useful. I stride off thinking I too have been useful.

In today's case I was preparing to cross the road towards Sheffield Castle Market. This is an interesting place because two roads join just ahead of me, bringing buses and taxis up the hill and more of the same around the corner from my left. It is a real challenge crossing here and I get fully focused. This time, however, just as I am about to set off, two hands clamp themselves around my right upper arm and a woman's voice says 'Can I help you to cross the street?'. Now my concentration is shattered and I am thinking murderous thoughts, but I turn to the woman and give the usual smiling response while trying to disentangle my arm. We set off and I am focusing carefully on the two roads when I realise that she is taking me off to the right rather than straight across the road. 'What the hell is she doing?' I think to myself and wonder if I am being hijacked.

Suddenly I see it - a six foot high wire fence rising from the kerb ahead of us and running for many feet along the roadside. Finally we round the end of the fence and, mounting the kerb, I thank my guide and she rushes off towards the market. I stop to gather my wits and notice the new paving stones along the side of the road. Although I know that I would have found the fence and run along it to the end, and many might have shouted directions at me, I still must feel grateful to the woman. I tell myself 'Don't be too cocksure, you fool, I might really need such help one day!'.

Gadgets and gizmos a-plenty - James

I've been investing in visually impaired friendly technology recently, which is a whole new world for me having relied mainly on analogue magnifiers for years. I've bought Zoom Text software for my laptop, which I discovered last year at the Royal National College for the Blind in Hereford and fell in love with. It doesn't work 100% perfectly on my laptop, but I think that's more to do with my graphics card or something which is pretty useless so there are times when my operating system seems to go into frame-skip slow motion, but that’s not Zoom Text’s fault. Oh well, I just need a newer, better laptop.

I finally invested in a Kindle which has changed my reading life completely. I wasn't sure whether the black on white screen would be good for me (I prefer white on black) but I'm getting used to it. Sometimes you just have to make do, but perhaps in the future they'll develop a colour change setting. It's a shame you can't increase the font size on the menu screens too, which I have to read using a magnifier. Quite why they give you the option to increase the font size in the actual books but assume your eyesight goes back to 'normal' in the menu is beyond me. But there you go.

I've bought the Optelec Compact 5HD portable video magnifier which produces an exquisite image but is slightly cumbersome and not quite as portable as I'd have liked. I might keep that one for in the flat when I'm reading and buy a more lightweight and aerodynamic one to put in my satchel for when I'm out and about. I bought one of the second hand CCTV magnifiers that the SRSB had on sale in their foyer, which is a godsend. I needed a television anyway and since this had one connected rather than an inbuilt 'brick' monitor it seemed like the perfect choice. One scart lead splitter later and I was using it for reading magazines and watching DVDs… killing two birds with one stone is what that's called!

Oh and my favourite gadget (next to the Kindle) which came last week is the Doro PhoneEasy 615 mobile phone. Fantastic! The last few mobile phones I've had I've needed to look at using a magnifying glass, which tends to look odd when you're sat texting in the pub. But with the Doro I can see the screen really easily, especially with its versatile colour options. I've not tried it out much in broad daylight yet, which is where screens often elude me completely, but I'm sure that'll be tested soon. The only annoying thing is that although it accepted the SIM card from my last mobile phone (a Nokia) it doesn't seem to be able to access the address book and photos. I might give Doro a buzz and see what they say. There's probably something in the settings I've missed.

I'm thinking about trying out an iPad in the near future in the hope that it's inbuilt zoom and colour settings might make browsing the internet easier for me, but being a touch typist I'm not quite sure how I'll cope without a keyboard. I guess a trip to the Apple store is in order. Can anyone reading this recommend them?

Anyway, onwards and upwards!

Sunny days and getting around - James

It's been such a stop and start summer for me with regards to living with Retinitis Pigmentosa. I find it’s easier to cope with RP if I know what the weather's going to be like with a bit of certainty from one day to the next so that I can make minor adjustments to my travel plans, even if they're just around town. I struggle mostly on very sunny days when the contrast between shaded areas and the open sunlight is jarring. I need to stay in either state, as flitting between the two is disorientating and possibly hazardous. This is easier if I'm in familiar territory, like Sheffield in general, but I've been away to Bristol and Newcastle this year where I’ve had to use my guide cane (halfway between the symbol and the long cane) to make sure I don't twist my poor ankles on curbs and cobbled streets or plunge myself down a quaint little flight of steps from a cosy nook in an immaculately designed corner of a trendy high street wine bar.

No, that's a lie, I don't go to wine bars, I like real ale pubs with gruff old men (me being one of them) guffawing about crop rotation. You'll usually find me in Shakespeare's on Gibraltar Street which I find initially very dark as I go in, but the giant blackboard which lists all their guest ales is an absolutely indispensable tool for finding out what fermented vegetable drinks they have on offer as the pump clips are totally out of my visual range. The brightest and least intimidatingly lit pub for me is actually Gardeners Rest in Neapsend, but that's slightly harder for me to get to and I sometimes feel uneasy wandering through the uneven industrial landscape.

I've learnt over the years just to take things slowly, even though I'm a fast walker. I guess "slowly" to me means the measured charting of the routes I take and what dangers I'm looking for directly up ahead. I keep an eye on people who look like they might stray into my path at any moment, especially those who bury their heads in their mobile phones while they're walking and perhaps unfairly hope that everyone else dives out of the way for them. I scan the edges of pavements that aren't well defined so that I don’t step out cluelessly into oncoming traffic - the areas around Fargate and Barker's Pool are especially tricky for that reason. I always keep a steady watch for bollards and fence posts or anything else that I might painfully clip my arms or genitalia on. I'm working all the time with RP; I'm calculating and deducing everything and constantly monitoring my surroundings, which can be quite exhausting on a busy day.

My Independent Journey - Betsy

For the Ramblers Association Annual General Meeting, I have to get myself across town to Norfolk Park’s new Centre. I’ll show them what I can do when I don’t have a guide.

Now, let’s see what I need. I’ve got plenty of time but will these new boots cripple me? Never mind, the brilliant sunshine and crispy air beckon and I’ll wear my new fleece walking pants. No sense getting cold, and I’ll need some lunch. Come on, old girl, gather yourself up in a hurry and start trekking. Just put the handbag in the rucksack. Never mind extracting bus pass, etc. I’ll forget something so bung it all in.

Ring for the lift. Come on, come on, I want to be off and I’m not too sure just how long it will take me to walk from Stannington to Norfolk Park. Feel for the ground floor button. It’s one above Hold Door. Out of the flats and down across the car park. Make sure I don’t turn my ankle on the rough stone surface. No sense in bungling things before I get going. Oh damn, I forgot to bring down the talking book I wanted to post in the box which is just in front of me. Oh, well, tomorrow will have to do. Now to cross the street. Shall I chance it here or closer to where it turns off the main road? Be safe. Go to the junction so turning cars can see me and my white stick. Careful at the curbs.

I’ll open up and swing down Stannington Road at my natural pace as I know the curbs well. Keep my ears open towards the main road however, to assess the traffic. For the moment I want to stay in the sun but I will have to cross over to go down Hollins Lane to Rivelin Bottom. Oops. I almost bumped into that lady. Keep my mind on the job. Now’s the time to cross. Get the stick into full view and go for it. Nothing coming up and the one coming down is well up the hill. Where’s the path leading to the pavement? No sense in walking through dog muck on the grass.

No trouble dropping down to the bridge, but now the fun begins. Go to the crossing and tune in to the sounds. Get going. I see the movement of someone crossing right at the intersection so no traffic. If there is, he or she will get hit first. Stop at the island in the middle and look the other way bur don’t waste time getting over. Phew, time to take off a layer. It’s all up hill now until I hit Walkley. From then on it’s a doddle until I get to Granville Road. Hope my feet don’t hurt by then. Tuck my jacket safely inside the sack.

Uff, it’s a hot pull. Just keep going. Keep breathing evenly. No dust bins in the way today. Thank goodness it’s Sunday. Now I’m up the first long pull. Stride through the gap into the next road. It’s so much easier going by the footpath. Too steep for cars so they have to go all over the place to climb up. Keep going. Don’t stop. Shorten the steps but keep going. There don’t seem to be many birds around. None are singing from the TV aerial - that is such a favourite. No smells of cooking from the houses. Are they all at church, or not up yet? Here’s a car that has been out fetching the papers. It smells of hot oil. Get up this final patch of road and I’m on the level. Hurrah! But keep my guard up. Car doors are often open here and kids’ bikes sprawl across the pavement. Where’s the cat that comes out meowing?

This road coming down from Crookes is a tricky one, especially if I try to cross before the lights. No hope today, too much traffic at intervals so I can’t safely judge the gaps. Wait for the bleeper when the lights turn and cross over into South Road. Mind the old boy. He doesn’t look as if he can get out of the way of my long cane. Don’t mow people down. Netto is open. Press on, I don’t want anything today. At least the shops which put their goods out on the pavement are closed and I don’t have to wave through them. One of these days I’ll report some of them. What a job if you can’t see anything. Guide dogs love weaving about. It’s a change and a challenge. I will go down Fargate, the most challenging course in Sheffield.

Just keep going as I come this way often. Oh hell those branches overhanging Commonside. My face stings but nothing in the eyes. And why are these dust bins out? Some are overflowing. That one looks abandoned. Never mind, just keep going. Yippee,traffic is crossing at Crookesmoor Road. By the time I get there the lights will turn and I can cross. Watch for cars coming around the corner. Ouch, I’ve just turned my ankle on some hole in the middle of the pavement in Barber Road. Retrieve my white stick and move ahead slowly but steadily. It’s the same ankle I turned badly three weeks ago. Let it wear off but watch traffic turning around the corner of Crookesmoor Park. Shall I go through Western Park? It’s a lovely day. No, crossing by Children’s Hospital towards the Octagon is worse than crossing at the roundabout. Thank you. The young man has pushed the buttons and is waiting to cross until the lights change and I am safely over. Usually the students run for it. Seeing the 'wait' sign is particularly difficult here as someone put advertising stickers over the glass. No bleepers and twirling knobs here to assist me, so get a move on and give a friendly wave to the cars.

I’ll weave as usual past the entrance to Jessop’s around two corners, past the Sheffield Royal Society for the Blind on Mappin Street and into West Street. Good heavens, music is pouring out of the building and tambourines are rattling. Much livelier than during the week. Wonder who it is?

Hello there. Who is it? Eunice, what are you doing here? Parked your car at SRSB and going to to John Lewis shopping. Come on, then. See you at SRSB tomorrow. Let’s cross West Street here, the lights are with us. Come on the traffic is moving across. So what if a car is coming along West Street, he has to stop. I know you don’t trust motorists, but this is daft. Let’s get across before the lights change. You ought to get out of your car more often and walk like we do. Come on now, we can cross Rockingham Street. Just shut your eyes and come instead of standing there staring at all the cars. Here’s John Lewis so I’ll see you tomorrow when I come for those photocopies.

Careful coming down to Fargate. Sunday shopping has started and cars are streaming around the corner into Leopold Street. I can get across just before that bus gets up here. Now, careful through all these obstacles. Get over towards M&S but watch out for their signboards. Phew, that Body Shop or whatever it is smells strong. Keep on going straight down High Street. What is this couple going to do? If I push past I might hit something. Hell, they are slowing down. Get over. Right, make a break for it and hope they continue looking towards the shop. Perhaps it would be a good idea to stop at the Interchange for the toilet. Look out for the change in pavement level approaching Platform A. Where is the ramp down into the Interchange? Wrong again, it’s on the other side of these cycle bars. Ouch, my toes are hurting. Too much walking on paved surfaces. Now where to cross to Suffolk Street so I can get to Granville Road? I think it has to be along Platform D and then cross over to the Railway Station. Next turn right and follow Suffolk Road. Mind the traffic and tram lines. Is that bus going to stop? At last I am climbing Granville Road and my sore feet are forgotten. Here are the park gates. Notices everywhere but no opening. Don’t give up. Walk to the far side and sure enough, here is a small entrance. Now where to go? Excuse me, is this the way to the Centre? "Come over here luv and walk right up the middle. You can see the Centre up there on the right. Ah,well ah, anyway, just keep going and you’ll get there in ten minutes". Thanks pal, and I am off. Nice aristocratic drive. I wonder where it used to go? Lots of kids playing around the Centre and here is an entrance. Do you know where the Ramblers’ meeting is? Oh, hello Terry. Am I the first? Yes I’ve walked all the way from Stannington and I’m hungry. I’ll take a seat and eat my lunch. When the time comes I’ll tell them of my journey. I too have enjoyed a ramble.