Latest news with #LimitlessTravel
Telegraph
17 hours ago
- Telegraph
The five major challenges of accessible cruising – and the trip which aims to tackle them all
Cruising promises simplicity: unpack once, see the world and enjoy it all in one place. But for many disabled guests, that simplicity is still out of reach. Limited cabin availability, patchy accessibility information and variable support can turn a relaxing break into a logistical test. A growing number of specialist operators are working collaboratively with cruise lines to improve this. On a recent Mediterranean voyage aboard P&O Cruises' Arvia, Limitless Travel offered a supported group holiday designed specifically for disabled travellers and their companions – effectively targeting five of the greatest challenges facing disabled passengers. Their specialist model focuses on pre-planned accessibility and consistent onboard support. Not 'special assistance' – but inclusion. Here's how they did it. Issue one: Balancing support and independence Cruising can amplify the tension between needing help and wanting autonomy. The ship's size, new routines and packed schedules can push disabled passengers to choose between overexertion or accepting more support than they'd prefer. For travellers used to managing access alone, the idea of joining a supported group may seem limiting. In practice, many guests on this trip found that tailored assistance enhanced their independence and gave their loved ones a break too. Some couples dined alone, guests explored at their own pace and joined group activities as they pleased. Limitless offered tiered care, from light-touch help to one-to-one support. Confidence often comes not from assistance, but from knowing help is there when needed. Many asked whether this was better than travelling solo. For most, the answer was yes. I'd have struggled to even board the ship without assistance from Limitless, with ramps too steep for my power assist to handle. Once aboard, a member of the team escorted me to my muster station, and then to my cabin, luggage already waiting inside. Our tour manager remarked that embarkation day is always stressful, but to me, it felt seamless – a far cry from the chaos of accessible air travel. Issue two: Accessible cabins Cruise ship cabins adapted for those with special requirements are still limited in number. Disabled travellers are often told to book early – ideally a year or more in advance – creating pressure long before the holiday begins. Limitless, however, guarantees accessible cabins. Onboard Arvia, layouts featured generous turning space, automatic doors and wet rooms suitable for wheelchair users. Level access to balconies, bedside controls and a flexible wardrobe height all showed that a variety of needs had been considered. One guest said it was the first time a room had felt 'designed for people, not patients.' Issue three: Excursions For many disabled travellers, once they've dealt with getting on the ship, a new question arises – will I be able to get off and explore? Tender-only ports, steep gangways and inconsistent support at terminals can complicate what should be a simple day ashore. Even excursions marked as 'accessible' can be unsuitable for full-time wheelchair users. These challenges are common across the industry, but Limitless Travel's model helps reduce the risk. On this trip, transport was pre-arranged, support staff were on-hand and the team's local knowledge proved invaluable, even when plans had to change. In Barcelona, a transport miscommunication caused delays. In Cadiz, a restaurant was unexpectedly unable to accommodate our group. But even with these hiccups, there was reassurance in knowing experienced professionals were calmly solving the problem. Travelling as a disabled person can often feel othering, as if your needs are just too complicated to be accommodated. There's comfort in travelling with a supported group; a shared understanding that says: we've got you. Issue four: Barriers in the small details It's not always the headline issues that define accessibility. Like most large cruise ships, some onboard facilities required forward planning or adaptation – a pool hoist that needed 24 hours' notice, a spa with limited accessibility, and long walking distances between venues. During peak times, crowded buffet areas and lifts added to the strain. These details mark the difference between getting by and travelling well. While no operator can address every variable, Limitless Travel anticipated many of them. Their team booked dining spaces, helped me navigate the ship and arranged for the hire of mobility scooters. They booked the pool hoist daily, so we didn't have to. Shore-day meeting points were in quieter ship areas. The result was a sense of everyone working together to create the best possible trip for our group, with all individual needs considered. Issue five: Customer service Customer service is one of the most overlooked aspects of accessible travel. Disabled travellers are often expected to repeat their needs, explain requirements and troubleshoot issues as they go. This constant advocacy takes its toll. On this trip, the labour was shared. Guests completed pre-departure forms, so I only had to explain my needs once. Sensitive medical information didn't need to be shared in earshot of others. Staff were briefed in advance. There was no need to repeat, remind or renegotiate. It was a proactive process that let guests enjoy the trip rather than manage it. The verdict According to a 2023 survey, 82 per cent of mobility-impaired cruise passengers see it as their most viable travel option. Cruise lines are responding, with more accessible cabins, trained staff, and clearer information. Accessible cruising is possible without support, but Limitless shows what's achievable when access is prioritised. Their approach avoids assumptions. It asks, listens, adapts. This trip showed that access doesn't need to be the compromise, it can be the starting point. And when that happens, disabled travellers don't just get onboard. They experience cruising as it should be – accessible, informed, and inclusive. Essentials Carrie-Ann Lightley was a guest of Limitless Travel – with support from P&O Cruises, Avanti West Coast and Transmobility. Limitless offers a 14-night roundtrip sailing P&O Cruises' Arvia from £4,199pp, beginning in Southampton and calling at A Coruña, Málaga, Alicante, Toulon, Barcelona and Cadiz. This includes door-to-door adapted transport, an accessible cabin, onboard care team, adapted excursions and 24/7 support. Departs August 3 and 17, 2025.
Scottish Sun
5 days ago
- Scottish Sun
I went on an accessible group cruise around Europe – here's what you can expect
STEP-FREE FORWARD I went on an accessible group cruise around Europe – here's what you can expect Click to share on X/Twitter (Opens in new window) Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) I'VE spent over two decades travelling the world solo as a wheelchair user. I'm used to doing everything myself – researching access, booking transport, managing my care needs, and staying in control. Sign up for Scottish Sun newsletter Sign up 5 Plain sailing for Carrie-Ann on the deck Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley 5 The group stop off to explore Marbella Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley 5 The Arvia in the port of La Coruna Credit: Supplied That control has often been the difference between a joyful trip and one that leaves me completely wiped out. So when I joined a supported group cruise organised by accessible travel specialists Limitless Travel, I wasn't just wheeling aboard a ship. I was wheeling far outside my comfort zone. The ship, P&O's Arvia, was set to sail from Southampton to Spain and France over two weeks. Limitless Travel provided door-to-door adapted transport, accessible excursions and a full support team. This was a world away from the independent travel I'm used to. But something unexpected happened. I started to let go — and in doing so, I found a kind of freedom I didn't know I needed. My worries that I'd feel patronised or boxed in faded from the moment I arrived at the terminal. Staff knew who I was and what support I might need. Confidence is contagious Instead of scanning for lifts or figuring out how to reach my cabin, I was free to just arrive. It sounds simple, but for disabled travellers, that kind of ease is rare. That evening, as the sun set, I realised I hadn't checked the itinerary all day — for the first time ever. Martin Lewis warns about strict passport rule that could see you board your flight - only to get sent home on arrival The group included people with a mix of disabilities and experiences, supported by a brilliant care team. There was no pressure to stick together, but always the option to join in. I shared meals, port outings and singalongs, and still had time to recharge alone. One afternoon, I laughed so hard watching guests play on a playground that my cheeks hurt. Another evening, I swapped stories with a fellow guest over cocktails while our wheelchairs shared legroom under the table. And one of the most touching moments was seeing a fellow guest, Avril, get up and dance for the first time in 20 years. There was no pressure to stick together, but always the option to join in She said it felt like getting a piece of herself back. I knew exactly what she meant. Support was always there, never intrusive. Whether it was helping someone down a gangway or a high kerb, or discreetly checking on comfort at dinner, the team handled it all with quiet skill. Plus, my accessible room was as sharp and glam as the standard ones, unlike some I've used in the past which feel more like hospital wards. There was a roll-in shower, plenty of space, and small but important details that made it feel welcoming, not clinical. And then came the shore days. Limitless Travel offered a 'potter around the port' service so we could explore together without following a strict itinerary. In Toulon we browsed a market for fresh pastries and fruit. In A Coruña we sipped sangria in a sunny square. 5 Carrie having a dance with passengers Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley 5 Carrie tucking in at the Beach House restaurant Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley In Málaga, my husband and I left the group and took a P&O excursion to Marbella on an accessible coach. Some days I craved company; others I wanted space. There was no pressure either way, just the freedom to do what felt right. I live with complex PTSD as well as a physical disability, and travel often brings anxiety. In the past I've had meltdowns in airport lounges, restaurants and on ferries. I'm always planning for the worst. But on this trip, something shifted. I didn't need to bark instructions or brace for chaos. Instead of scanning exits, I was scanning cocktail menus. One afternoon, I used the ship's pool hoist — something I'd never dared to try before. With support, it felt safe. Later, other guests said they gave it a go because they saw me do it. That moment stuck with me. Confidence is contagious. I watched sunrises, sunsets and a strawberry moon. I danced and didn't care who saw. I laughed. I rested. I belonged. And not once did I feel like a burden. This isn't a sales pitch. Supported group travel won't suit everyone. But if, like me, you've clung to independence because it felt safer than trusting strangers, then this kind of trip might just change your mind. It did mine. I thought I was giving up control. What I gained was something far better: The freedom to travel without fear.
The Irish Sun
5 days ago
- The Irish Sun
I went on an accessible group cruise around Europe – here's what you can expect
I'VE spent over two decades travelling the world solo as a wheelchair user. I'm used to doing everything myself – researching access, booking transport, managing my care needs, and staying in control. Advertisement 5 Plain sailing for Carrie-Ann on the deck Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley 5 The group stop off to explore Marbella Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley 5 The Arvia in the port of La Coruna Credit: Supplied That control has often been the difference between a joyful trip and one that leaves me completely wiped out. So when I joined a supported group cruise organised by accessible travel specialists Limitless Travel, I wasn't just wheeling aboard a ship. I was wheeling far outside my comfort zone. The ship, P&O's Arvia, was set to sail from Southampton to Spain and France over two weeks. Advertisement Read More on Travel Limitless Travel provided door-to-door adapted transport, accessible excursions and a full support team. This was a world away from the independent travel I'm used to. But something unexpected happened. I started to let go — and in doing so, I found a kind of freedom I didn't know I needed. My worries that I'd feel patronised or boxed in faded from the moment I arrived at the terminal. Staff knew who I was and what support I might need. Advertisement Most read in News Travel Exclusive Confidence is contagious Instead of scanning for lifts or figuring out how to reach my cabin, I was free to just arrive. It sounds simple, but for disabled travellers, that kind of ease is rare. That evening, as the sun set, I realised I hadn't checked the itinerary all day — for the first time ever. Martin Lewis warns about strict passport rule that could see you board your flight - only to get sent home on arrival The group included people with a mix of disabilities and experiences, supported by a brilliant care team. There was no pressure to stick together, but always the option to join in. Advertisement I shared meals, port outings and singalongs, and still had time to recharge alone. One afternoon, I laughed so hard watching guests play on a playground that my cheeks hurt. Another evening, I swapped stories with a fellow guest over cocktails while our wheelchairs shared legroom under the table. And one of the most touching moments was seeing a fellow guest, Avril, get up and dance for the first time in 20 years. Advertisement There was no pressure to stick together, but always the option to join in She said it felt like getting a piece of herself back. I knew exactly what she meant. Support was always there, never intrusive. Whether it was helping someone down a gangway or a high kerb, or discreetly checking on comfort at dinner, the team handled it all with quiet skill. Plus, my accessible room was as sharp and glam as the standard ones, unlike some I've used in the past which feel more like hospital wards. There was a roll-in shower, plenty of space, and small but important details that made it feel welcoming, not clinical. Advertisement And then came the shore days. Limitless Travel offered a 'potter around the port' service so we could explore together without following a strict itinerary. In Toulon we browsed a market for fresh pastries and fruit. In A Coruña we sipped sangria in a sunny square. 5 Carrie having a dance with passengers Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley 5 Carrie tucking in at the Beach House restaurant Credit: Carrie-Ann Lightley Advertisement In Málaga, my husband and I left the group and took a P&O excursion to Marbella on an accessible coach. Some days I craved company; others I wanted space. There was no pressure either way, just the freedom to do what felt right. I live with complex PTSD as well as a physical disability, and travel often brings anxiety. In the past I've had meltdowns in airport lounges, restaurants and on ferries. I'm always planning for the worst. But on this trip, something shifted. I didn't need to bark instructions or brace for chaos. Instead of scanning exits, I was scanning cocktail menus. Advertisement One afternoon, I used the ship's pool hoist — something I'd never dared to try before. With support, it felt safe. Later, other guests said they gave it a go because they saw me do it. That moment stuck with me. Confidence is contagious. I watched sunrises, sunsets and a strawberry moon. I danced and didn't care who saw. I laughed. I rested. I belonged. And not once did I feel like a burden. Advertisement This isn't a sales pitch. Supported group travel won't suit everyone. But if, like me, you've clung to independence because it felt safer than trusting strangers, then this kind of trip might just change your mind. It did mine. I thought I was giving up control. What I gained was something far better: The freedom to travel without fear. GO: ACCESSIBLE CRUISE GETTING /SAILING THERE: A seven-night sailing on board P&O Cruises' Ventura with Limitless Travel costs from £2,699pp, based on two people sharing an accessible cabin. Cruise departs from Southampton on September 26 and calls at La Corua, Gijon and Santander in Spain as well as Cherbourg in France. Price includes group support and holiday assistance from Limitless care team, care plans tailored to travellers' specific needs, four accessible port visits, door-to-door accessible transfers from travellers' home to Southampton, check-in and boarding support, a tour manager on board the ship and a personal travel adviser throughout the trip. See
The Sun
5 days ago
- The Sun
I went on an accessible group cruise around Europe – here's what you can expect
I'VE spent over two decades travelling the world solo as a wheelchair user. I'm used to doing everything myself – researching access, booking transport, managing my care needs, and staying in control. 5 5 That control has often been the difference between a joyful trip and one that leaves me completely wiped out. So when I joined a supported group cruise organised by accessible travel specialists Limitless Travel, I wasn't just wheeling aboard a ship. I was wheeling far outside my comfort zone. The ship, P&O's Arvia, was set to sail from Southampton to Spain and France over two weeks. Limitless Travel provided door-to-door adapted transport, accessible excursions and a full support team. This was a world away from the independent travel I'm used to. But something unexpected happened. I started to let go — and in doing so, I found a kind of freedom I didn't know I needed. My worries that I'd feel patronised or boxed in faded from the moment I arrived at the terminal. Staff knew who I was and what support I might need. Confidence is contagious Instead of scanning for lifts or figuring out how to reach my cabin, I was free to just arrive. It sounds simple, but for disabled travellers, that kind of ease is rare. That evening, as the sun set, I realised I hadn't checked the itinerary all day — for the first time ever. Martin Lewis warns about strict passport rule that could see you board your flight - only to get sent home on arrival The group included people with a mix of disabilities and experiences, supported by a brilliant care team. There was no pressure to stick together, but always the option to join in. I shared meals, port outings and singalongs, and still had time to recharge alone. One afternoon, I laughed so hard watching guests play on a playground that my cheeks hurt. Another evening, I swapped stories with a fellow guest over cocktails while our wheelchairs shared legroom under the table. And one of the most touching moments was seeing a fellow guest, Avril, get up and dance for the first time in 20 years. There was no pressure to stick together, but always the option to join in She said it felt like getting a piece of herself back. I knew exactly what she meant. Support was always there, never intrusive. Whether it was helping someone down a gangway or a high kerb, or discreetly checking on comfort at dinner, the team handled it all with quiet skill. Plus, my accessible room was as sharp and glam as the standard ones, unlike some I've used in the past which feel more like hospital wards. There was a roll-in shower, plenty of space, and small but important details that made it feel welcoming, not clinical. And then came the shore days. Limitless Travel offered a 'potter around the port' service so we could explore together without following a strict itinerary. In Toulon we browsed a market for fresh pastries and fruit. In A Coruña we sipped sangria in a sunny square. 5 5 In Málaga, my husband and I left the group and took a P&O excursion to Marbella on an accessible coach. Some days I craved company; others I wanted space. There was no pressure either way, just the freedom to do what felt right. I live with complex PTSD as well as a physical disability, and travel often brings anxiety. In the past I've had meltdowns in airport lounges, restaurants and on ferries. I'm always planning for the worst. But on this trip, something shifted. I didn't need to bark instructions or brace for chaos. Instead of scanning exits, I was scanning cocktail menus. One afternoon, I used the ship's pool hoist — something I'd never dared to try before. With support, it felt safe. Later, other guests said they gave it a go because they saw me do it. That moment stuck with me. Confidence is contagious. I watched sunrises, sunsets and a strawberry moon. I danced and didn't care who saw. I laughed. I rested. I belonged. And not once did I feel like a burden. This isn't a sales pitch. Supported group travel won't suit everyone. But if, like me, you've clung to independence because it felt safer than trusting strangers, then this kind of trip might just change your mind. It did mine. I thought I was giving up control. What I gained was something far better: The freedom to travel without fear.
