Most people decide whether they can go somewhere within about thirty seconds of looking it up. Can I get in? Is there somewhere to sit? Will I have to ask a stranger to hold a fire door? Those aren't unreasonable questions, and asking them isn't making a fuss. They're the difference between a venue that welcomes you and one that merely lets you through the door. Here's what we'd check before visiting anywhere — including our own venues.
The approach often causes more trouble than the entrance. A venue can have a perfectly level front door and still be out of reach if the nearest bus stop sits on the wrong side of a kerb.
Ask about the route you'd actually use. Which station exit or bus stop is step-free? Are there dropped kerbs between there and the door? Is the crossing one with tactile paving and a signal, or a gap in the traffic? And how long is the walk in minutes rather than metres?
If you're driving, ask where the accessible bays sit in relation to the entrance, whether deliveries ever block them, and where a friend can pull up to drop you off without holding up a queue of taxis.
Ask about the route at the time you'll be arriving, too. A path that's clear at three in the afternoon can be full of tables and queues by eight in the evening.
It helps to ask for a photo or a short video of the route, not because you're being demanding but because "just around the corner" means different things to different people. A venue that can send one is usually a venue that has thought about access before you asked.
It's a phrase venues use loosely. Two buildings can both call themselves step-free and offer very different experiences.
Are there steps, lips or raised thresholds between the pavement and the door? If there's a ramp, is it fixed or does someone have to fetch it, and is it sheltered? Heavy manual doors are a barrier in themselves — ask whether they're automatic, which way they open, and whether there's a bell or intercom at a height you can reach from a wheelchair.
Inside, ask about the lift. Not just whether there is one, but which floors it serves, whether you can turn a wheelchair inside it, and what happens if it's out of order on the night. Lifts get used for storage more often than anyone admits.
Also ask about corridors. Are they wide enough for a wheelchair or mobility scooter to pass someone coming the other way? Are there tight corners, heavy fire doors, or steps hidden behind curtains and temporary walls? A route can be step-free and still be an obstacle course.
Getting in is only half of it. The rest is whether you can enjoy being there once you are.
Ask what the seating is like. Fixed benches, movable chairs, tall stools, booths, sofas that look good but are impossible to get out of? Is there space to transfer from a wheelchair to a seat, or to stay in your chair without blocking a walkway? Are there seats with arms and backrests, which some people need? Can you reserve a specific spot, or is it first come, first served?
Sightlines matter just as much. Can you see the stage, screen or speaker from an accessible seat? Are there pillars, railings, mixing desks or standing crowds in the way? If the view is limited, is there a raised platform, a side screen, or a member of staff who can help you find a better spot?
Sound and light are part of access too. Ask whether there's a hearing loop, whether captions or a BSL interpreter are provided for specific events, and whether the lighting is dimmed to the point where you can't read a menu or see a face. If you're sensitive to flashing lights, sudden noise or crowded spaces, ask whether there's a quiet room, a low-sensory hour, or a seating area away from the speakers.
An accessible toilet isn't a bonus; it's the reason some people can stay for the whole event rather than leaving early. Ask where it is, whether it's on the same floor as the main space, and whether it's kept clear of boxes, cleaning carts and queues.
Look for the details: a Radar key, grab rails, a turning circle, an emergency cord that reaches the floor, and a sink you can use from a seated position. If there's no accessible toilet, ask what the alternative is. "Use the one upstairs" is not an answer if the lift is broken.
If you use an assistance dog, ask whether dogs are welcome, where they can relieve themselves, and whether there's a quiet place to settle. If you need medication, equipment or food you've brought with you, ask about bag checks and whether there's somewhere safe to store it.
Staff training shows up in small ways. Do they know where the ramp is kept? Will they move a chair without sighing? Can they describe the route to the accessible toilet without guessing? You can often tell more from how a venue answers a simple question than from a page of access statements.
If you only have time for one message, make it a list. It's easier for venues to answer clearly, and it gives you a written record.
Ask these questions before you pay, not after. A good venue will answer them without making you feel like a problem. A great venue will already have the answers on its website, in plain language, with photos and measurements.
Sometimes you'll get a reply that sounds helpful but tells you nothing: "We're fully accessible" or "Just ask a member of staff on the day." Those aren't answers; they're hopes.
Push gently for specifics. "Fully accessible" can mean anything from a portable ramp to a purpose-built Changing Places toilet. "Ask on the day" can mean staff will help, or it can mean nobody has thought about it until you arrive.
If a venue can't describe its access in plain words, it probably hasn't tested it with disabled people.
That doesn't mean you should write it off. It might mean you're the first person to ask, and your questions could make the next visit easier for everyone. But it does mean you should allow extra time, bring a backup plan, and decide how much uncertainty you're willing to take on for a night out.
We don't get everything right. Old buildings, listed features and busy nights all create compromises. But we'd rather hear about a problem before you arrive than after you've turned around and gone home.
So we try to keep our access information specific: which entrance is step-free, where the nearest dropped kerb is, how wide the lift is, and which seats have the best sightlines. We train staff to answer access questions without passing you from person to person. And we ask disabled customers what we've missed, because access isn't a box to tick once — it's a conversation that changes as people and venues change.
If you're planning a visit and something isn't clear, contact us before you book. Tell us what you need, what you're worried about, and what would make the difference between a good night and a no. We'll tell you honestly what we can do, and if we can't do it yet, we'll say so.
Access isn't about special treatment. It's about the same thing everyone else wants: to get in, find a seat, enjoy the show, and get home without having to fight for it.
Photo: stux / Pixabay
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