Phil Donegan finds Richmond as picturesque as ever, but steep slopes and narrow doorways to the quainter tourist shops made progress a little difficult.

AS the bronze of the beeches danced around stone buildings of the wonderful townscape of Richmond on a bright autumn morning, it was easy to see why writers such as Alfred Wainwright and Marie Hartley and Joan Ingleby have waxed lyrical about the town.

My quest was to see how easily I could shop here. Tina at Tourist Information had done me proud with much helpful advance knowledge over the phone. Parking would be available in the Market Square, she said, for anyone with a blue disc; toilets abound - many with disabled access; many shops have steps so access in a wheelchair could be tricky and, yes, they would send out a map immediately.

The map duly arrived and proved useful from the moment I reached Richmond, it being difficult to find access to the Market Place via a maze of one-way streets all seemingly going the wrong way.

Eventually, I approached by Frenchgate, which took me to the bottom of the square by the Rural District Council offices. A disabled bay was found straight ahead so I parked here and looked... upwards. I was at the foot of quite a steep hill and this was, effectively, my base camp for the ascent to Finkle Street. My map showed me that parking near handy disabled WCs was available at Riverside Road below Millgate and Nuns Close off Hurgill Road.

I checked out the first to find a beautiful rural location but with a climb up to the town and castle that probably should not be attempted without assistance. Nuns Close is more on a level but does require crossing the busy Victoria Road which, again, would require assistance for many. Pushing up the hill was just about manageable, not least because of the moral support I received from passers-by. This was reminiscent of the Great North Run, with folk offering encouragement and advice en route; there was even an offer of a push from one gentleman who already had his own bike to contend with.

Many shops do - as I had been warned - have steps and, therefore are only accessible to shoppers able to negotiate these. I can use walking sticks over short distances and, consequently, could have parked my chair and hobbled inside but this would have made shopping relatively unpleasant and unnecessarily tiring. There was also the double whammy of narrow doorways to contend with so I chose to save my energy and seek out kinder entrances.

Kwiksave has level entry and inside there were enough folk in wheelchairs to make it more like the dodgems. Things were decidedly hairy around the Cheerios and Clusters. There is no trolley here that can be attached to a wheelchair and when I asked a member of staff how I would manage a large load she replied with alarming honesty: "Eeh, do you know, I'd never thought of that." Commendably, though, she pursued it further saying that she was sure any member of staff would help if I only asked.

By the time I had my purchases safely in my bag, enquiries had been telegraphed around the store and a reassuring assertion that help would undoubtedly be available had arrived back to me. An example perhaps of community spirit triumphing where corporate policy had failed.

Boots has a gentle ramp and an automatic door but I only discovered this after negotiating the altogether more challenging steep ramp to the manual doors. The moral is that it pays to look first, but the good folk of Richmond again bailed me out by being on hand to hold open the door and ensure safe entry.

Edinburgh Woollen Mill has level entry but let me down by having one of the double doors locked, leaving a space too narrow for a wheelchair to go through. My voice boomed through the tweeds and woollens: "Hello - is anyone on the doors?" Myself and two shoppers, who were only too happy to help, fettled the snecks and I rolled in triumphantly past the thick cut marmalades and chunky knits.

My reward was great as at the back of the shop is the delightful Oak Coffee House. Seating was perfectly accessible here, the atmosphere friendly and the lady who served me offered to carry my tray without needing to be asked.

After a welcome breather and secure in the knowledge that from this point the Market Square got no closer to the clouds, I began my descent back to base. Thomas the Baker has no step and also an assistant who was prepared to walk round to my side of the counter to count back my change. The Market Hall with its broad range of tempting stalls (open Tues, Thurs, Fri and Sat), is easy to get into once the doors are negotiated - again, help was on tap making this otherwise tricky manoeuvre reasonably straightforward.

First impressions of the many pubs in the square were of steps and barriers which put me off trying to go inside. To be fair, this may be a false impression and it would be interesting to hear from any of the town centre drinking holes that have an active open access policy. Similarly, since I did not see a disabled toilet in the square and none was marked on the map, I decided to use the toilets at the wonderfully accessible Friary Co-Op (I did buy some flowers as well). There are disabled toilets however, (which need RADAR keys), at the two car parks mentioned earlier.

Overall, Richmond is a town that extends a friendly welcome and it is this that makes access easier than it would be otherwise. Sadly, it is often the more exclusive, quaint "touristy" shops that have steps and, consequently, my shopping did not include many of these.

I also acknowledge that there is much more to Richmond than I managed to see in two hours and these attractions deserve fuller mention at a later date.

One recommendation would be that a map showing dropped kerbs, gradients, surfaces and accessible shops be made available, along with a list of those shops with limited access but that are happy to help. Many towns with active Disabled Access Groups either already have these or are busy preparing them... they are eagerly awaited.