To better understand how disabled travelers approach planning, we sat down with Jamie Chen, a disability advocate and travel consultant who works with disabled individuals and families to plan accessible trips. Jamie has been traveling with multiple disabilities for over 20 years and has become known in the accessibility community for practical advice, boundary-setting, and creative problem-solving. Here's what Jamie shared about accessible travel planning.
About Jamie
Jamie uses a wheelchair due to a spinal cord injury acquired at age 22, and has bipolar disorder that requires careful management while traveling. Over the past two decades, Jamie has traveled to 40+ countries, written extensively about accessibility, and now consults with individuals and organizations on accessible travel planning. Jamie describes her approach to accessibility as "honest and strategic—not grateful, not inspiration-seeking, just honest about what access looks like and what's required."
The Interview
OutEasily: Let's start with your journey. When did you first realize you wanted to travel after your disability?
Jamie: Honestly, I didn't want to at first. I was freshly injured, newly in a wheelchair, and the world felt really hostile. But my family kind of staged an intervention. They said, "You used to love travel. You don't have to give that up because you got injured." They didn't pressure me, but they made it clear it was possible.
My first trip was to a beach town three hours away. It was terrible in so many ways—the "accessible" hotel wasn't actually accessible, the beach had no beach wheelchairs, restaurants weren't welcoming. But I did it. And the second trip was better because I'd learned from the first one.
By the third trip, I stopped trying to visit places that "claimed" to be accessible and started seeking places that were actually designed with disabled people in mind. That changed everything.
OutEasily: What's the biggest difference in your approach now versus your early travel experiences?
Jamie: The biggest shift was moving from "How can I make this work despite barriers?" to "Which places are actually designed to work for me?"
Early on, I'd go somewhere, fight barriers all day, celebrate surviving, and come home exhausted. Now I choose destinations where accessibility is built in, not bolted on. That sounds like a small difference, but it changes the entire experience. You're not in survival mode. You're actually on vacation.
OutEasily: Can you give an example of a trip where you had to shift venues because of barriers?
Jamie: Sure. I'd planned a week in a city. On day three, the "accessible hotel" I'd booked turned out to be genuinely inaccessible—they didn't actually have a roll-in shower despite claiming to. I had to pivot to a backup hotel I'd researched but wasn't my first choice.
My new approach: I always research 2-3 backup options before traveling. If my first choice doesn't work, I have a plan B. And I get hotels on the phone before booking to confirm specific features, not just ask if they're "wheelchair accessible."
OutEasily: What's the most common mistake you see disabled travelers make when planning trips?
Jamie: Taking businesses at their word about accessibility without verification. Someone says, "Oh yes, we have wheelchair access," and the person books without asking what that actually means. Is there a ramp? An elevator? Is the accessible parking in a different building? Are the accessible restrooms actually accessible or just marked as such?
I'm always the annoying person asking specific questions:
- "How many inches is the threshold?"
- "Is the accessible parking in the same building or a different one?"
- "Does your elevator fit a wheelchair?"
- "Are your accessible restrooms actually the size you're describing?"
People think I'm rude. I tell them they're thinking about this wrong—specific questions get specific answers and prevent disasters. Polite vagueness gets disasters.
OutEasily: How do you handle it when you arrive somewhere and the accessibility doesn't match what you were told?
Jamie: First: Document everything. Photos, videos, clear notes about what was promised versus what exists.
Second: Immediately contact the business and clearly state what's wrong. "Your listing says 'accessible parking' but your lot has no accessible spots within sight of your entrance. I need you to provide proper access or this is a problem."
Third: If they don't fix it immediately, I contact my credit card company and dispute the charge. Hotels HATE chargebacks. They'll suddenly become very accommodating when they realize you'll dispute the charge.
Fourth: I leave honest reviews everywhere—Google, TripAdvisor, OutEasily, disability travel sites. I don't trash them with rage; I provide specific facts. "They advertised a roll-in shower but it actually has a bathtub with a shower chair. They advertised accessible parking but the spots are full and not enforced. Staff was apologetic but the property is not suitable for wheelchair users."
OutEasily: Is there anything people misunderstand about accessible travel?
Jamie: Everything. People think accessible travel means going to boring places because they can't do "real" adventure travel. Totally wrong. I've hiked accessible trails, visited museums with excellent accessibility, eaten amazing food at accessible restaurants. Accessible doesn't mean boring. It just means choosing places that designed for access.
People also think accessible travel is cheap. It's often the opposite. Accessible hotels cost more. Accommodations that work take research and often cost more than "regular" options. People need to budget for that.
And people think accessibility is an ask they're making of businesses. No. Accessibility is a legal right. I don't ask for accommodations like I'm asking for a favor. I state my needs like I'm stating a fact. "I'm a wheelchair user and I need an accessible room." Not "Is it possible to..." or "Would you mind if..."
OutEasily: How has the pandemic changed accessible travel?
Jamie: Hotels became much more responsive to accessibility questions. Suddenly they were monitoring inventory closely and could tell me exactly how many accessible rooms they had. Some wonderful "bring accessible features online" happened. But then some went backward—cutting staff, not repairing accessibility features, increasing prices for accessibility.
The positive: More remote communication options exist for making reservations and getting information. Video tours of hotels help you see actual accessibility before booking.
The negative: Many staff have forgotten how to provide certain accommodations (food service for disabled diners, assistance with travel, communication access).
OutEasily: You've traveled with bipolar disorder, which is often invisible. How do you plan for that while traveling?
Jamie: It's really hard. I was initially embarrassed to discuss it, but it's real and affects travel planning.
I now plan for:
- Medication access (different time zones, international travel, availability)
- Sleep disruption (time changes, unfamiliar beds, excitement can trigger episodes)
- Stress management (traveling is stressful; I need more coping strategies than usual)
- Flexibility in itineraries (if I'm having a depressive episode, I need rest days built in)
- Access to healthcare (I research hospitals and mental health services in my destination)
- Triggers (some environments trigger episodes; I try to anticipate and avoid or plan support)
I also travel with a trusted friend sometimes specifically to have someone who knows to notice if my mental health is declining. That person checks in with me daily, helps me manage medications, and can advocate if I'm not in a state to do so.
This is another area where I'm not shy: I tell hotels I have mental health needs. I ask for quiet rooms away from parties. I request lists of nearby services just in case.
OutEasily: What advice do you have for someone newly disabled who wants to travel but feels scared?
Jamie: Start small. Take a weekend trip somewhere close, somewhere you know, somewhere with family or trusted friends. You don't have to overcome everything at once.
Second, connect with disabled travelers. Read their blogs, watch their videos, listen to their stories. Seeing other disabled people travel is huge. You'll learn practical strategies and realize you're not alone in your fears.
Third, reject the pressure to be grateful and inspiring. You have a right to travel. You don't have to be brave or inspirational about it. You're just a person wanting to take a trip. That's enough.
And finally: You will figure it out. The first trip is hard. The second is better. By the third trip, you've found your rhythm. You'll develop strategies, learn what actually works for you, discover accessibility features you didn't know existed. It gets easier, not because you overcome your disability, but because you get smarter about working with your accessibility needs.
OutEasily: What role do platforms like OutEasily play in accessible travel?
Jamie: Verified accessibility information from actual disabled users is game-changing. I spent years calling businesses and getting inconsistent information. If I'd had access to real reviews from wheelchair users about whether their accessible room actually had a roll-in shower, blind users about whether audio descriptions work, deaf users about hearing loops—that would have saved me so much time and heartbreak.
The accessibility industry has a problem: a lot of inaccessible places claim to be accessible. Platforms that aggregate real user reviews help cut through that marketing BS.
OutEasily is valuable because it's focused specifically on travel and accessibility from the disability perspective, not the business perspective. That changes everything.
OutEasily: What's next for you in terms of travel?
Jamie: I want to spend more time working with travel organizations to actually improve accessibility rather than just documenting where it fails. I'm consulting with a hotel chain right now about genuinely accessible design, not "wheelchair accessible" checkboxes.
And I want to travel to places I haven't been yet—which is exciting even after 40+ countries. I've realized I'll probably never run out of places to explore. Disability didn't end travel for me; it just changed how I travel.
OutEasily: Any final advice for our readers planning their own trips?
Jamie: Do the research. Ask the specific questions. Don't settle for vague answers. Trust other disabled travelers' experiences more than business websites. Build flexibility into your plans. And remember: You deserve to travel. Not because you're overcoming something or inspiring others. Just because you're a human and travel is a human experience. Access is your right, and you deserve to travel in a way that feels good to you.
Key Takeaways from Jamie's Interview
- Verify specific accessibility features rather than trusting vague claims
- Choose destinations designed for access rather than fighting barriers at inaccessible places
- Document problems and be willing to dispute charges for false accessibility claims
- Accessibility is a right, not a request to apologize for
- Invisible disabilities need accommodation planning just like visible ones
- Start small with short trips to build confidence
- Connect with disability travel communities to learn from others' experiences
- Budget for accessibility—it often costs more than standard options
- Flexibility in itineraries prevents burnout and mental health crises
- Travel with trusted people when you need support managing disabilities
Plan Your Trip with Confidence
Jamie's approach to accessible travel centers on specific information and strategic planning. That's exactly what OutEasily provides. Our community of disabled travelers shares detailed reviews and accessibility information, helping you make informed decisions before you book. Start planning your trip on OutEasily with confidence, guided by the experiences of real disabled travelers.