A BLIND NEW ZEALANDER

Stratford Evening Post, Volume II, Issue 89, 8 November 1932, Page 2

A BLIND NEW ZEALANDER

HIKING THROUGH ENGLAND JOYS OF THE OPEN ROAD London, Sept. 22.—Mr S. M. Lydford, of Napier arrived in England a little time ago to "see" something of the Home Country. He is blind "in the meaning of the Act," as he says, though he can tell light from dark, ness and can just distinguish black Piano keys from white. He carried a letter of introduction from: the Blind Institute in New Zealand to the National Institute for the Blind in Lon„ don. "The latter," said Mr Lydford, "found me lodgings and a guide, gave me facilities for study, acted as my banker, and helped in countless ways to make my stay in England a ha.ppy one. Though at first somewhat scared of the London traffic I soon began to go about alone with my white stick, which never failed to get me help when changing buses or crossing busy streets. But actually I never became really used to the immense size of the metropolis and its crowds and traffic, and I imagine a blind man must need special training to work it with facility." Mr Lydford has now contributed an article to the Manchester City News and other provincial newspapers, his object being to induce other blind men and women to go a biking. I came over to meet and study tbe English country people rather than try vainly to "see" the sights (he ■writes). To enjoy the sunshine and the country air, the hills and valleys, the lanes and 'trees, and the hedge, rows with their glorious flowers, the song of the birds, and other sounds and scents of the countryside—to get the best out of these, with a healthy mind and body. To tramp the roads and lanes till weary and then enjoy the company of some farmer or cottager, and partake of the wholesome fare; 'and finally sleep in one of those heavenly feather beds that still survive in so many English homes. Joy of the Unexpected For blind men and women who love outdoor life and the joy of the miexpected there can be nothing more delightful than a tramp through the English countryside. The white stickis undoubtedly a great help. It shows up against the dark background of hedge and road and even motorists who do not know that it is carried by a "dim" realise that there is something unusual about it, and give its bearer the road. It gained me many a timely lift when the day was on the wane and my bag began to weigh heavily. My advice to blind hikers is that they should make no fixed plan beforehand beyond deciding each day on the district they propose to tramp. Let thetn leave the rest, to fate. They cannot, see the signpost, and almost certainly there will be no one at the crossroads to tell the way. But, f what matter? More than once at) eventide I landed miles away from i the place I had intended to make: j but, given good company and food i and bed, one place is as good as another. The tramp should shed all j care. Next to farm houses I found the > best accommodation at those houses patronised by the cyclist associations. Once or twice they were a little doubtful about receiving me, but a little tact soon gained their confidence, and. as the evening advanced, they marvelled at my ability to care for myself. When the first 'shyness was broken down the novelty of a blind hiker tickled their imagination, Pioneer Work For years to come every blind hiker will be doing pioneer work, and upon his behaviour will depend the reception of those Avho come after him. If he is a good "mixer" he will leave behind him a host of friends, and be remembered long after he has shouldered his pack and gone away into the unknown.

Over in New Zealand where I learned my hiking, the roads are much rougher than those of England. They are covered with river metal, and. as the motors tear along, the tramp is covered with dust. It is even worse when meeting cattle or sheep, or when a windstorm deadens the sound oi ! passing traffic. Also the distances between villages are greater while to ask a night's lodgings at' a farm, house, as is done over here is a thing unheard of. After such a training I found Inking in England easy enough. Of course T have had to be on the alert for cars, but I always keep to the left and in the narrow lanes, with cars coming both ways, I stand close

to the hedge till danger is passed. Personally, J think the motor peril exaggerated. There is certainly little danger to anyone who keeps his head and his own side of the road —and I always assume that the motorist is not out to kill.