THE request to see Hear'Say at the Telewest Arena, Newcastle, was from my nine-year-old daughter and the answers at first were in the "definitely not" category of firm and decisive parenting.

Like most parents, though, I was subjected to a relentless stream of pleading that gradually wore me down and eventually made me cave in. Also, since a reader had contacted me about the problems of taking her daughter, who has cerebral palsy, to a Steps concert, this seemed like a good time to try the Arena.

During this softening-up phase of indecisive parenting, I started to think through the logistics of such an operation: my daughter is only little and could I look after her in a large crowd of around 10,000 people?

The last time I was at the Arena I was with adult friends who ably and reassuringly guided me in my wheelchair to my seat via lifts, toilets etc. This time I would need to be the one in control.

How would my daughter feel if we were ushered into a special seating area away from the main crowds, thereby losing a sense of atmosphere and occasion? And did I like Hear'Say anyway? At times like these, those of us with mobility problems start to be less positive about our condition.

We are in danger of giving in to the temptation to stay at home where we are safe - and do nothing. I was in need of a boost - of support offered in a clear, unequivocal, accessible way to break through the growing lack of confidence that was arising.

To turn things around was going to be an exercise in positive thinking. Some responsibility falls on venues that can help by clearly stating what is in place to encourage people with disabilities to gain access.

Some responsibility falls on people like me. I considered how excited my daughter was at the thought of going out and how it would not help anyone if I allowed my fears to surface.

What finally swung it was the idea that I could be a 'normal' dad doing something with her that she would hopefully treasure for a long while to come. That was my half of the bargain - could the Telewest Arena fulfil their half of the deal?

The telephone number most readily available is for a centralised ticket hotline and I soon realised this service was not going to provide me with the help I needed. It yielded a recorded message that gave some useful traffic directions to the disabled parking areas, but I needed the personal touch so I moved on to a number quoted for more information. After the recorded message, I held the line and was able to talk to a real person. Slowly, but surely, I garnered information on the disabled toilets: "...four or five along each corridor and about two on the upper concourse." I also learnt that there were special disabled seating areas in each block.

Still concerned that I did not want my daughter to feel segregated by virtue of the fact she would be sitting with me in a special area, I asked for information on seating plans and I had to be switched through to the Box Office. My hope was that the seating arrangements would be versatile enough to enable people in wheelchairs to mingle with the general crowd, allowing us to be less obtrusive.

The arrangements were not as versatile as I would have liked, I would have to sit in the special needs area of my chosen block; it was possible, however, to choose a block. It was a question of persistence paying off, since most of this information was not volunteered but it is there if you know what questions to ask. The Box Office could supply me with a seating plan and this would be posted out to me.

By now, I was committed to going - albeit with some misgivings. I chose a block, ordered the tickets by phone and proudly told my daughter that we would, in fact, be going.

We travelled by car following the directions on the leaflets that accompanied the tickets. But, once we reached the Redheugh Bridge, things went hopelessly wrong, we found ourselves circling the Centre For Life and heading back over the bridge to Gateshead. Returning, we nearly gave up before spotting a tiny temporary direction sign for Orange Badge users.

Threading through Skinnerburn Road and Shot Factory Lane, we found the Arena car park where my badge was checked and we, at last, gained entry.

Parking is directly alongside the Arena and could not be more convenient. However, I recommend mapping your route out carefully beforehand. There is level access throughout and help in the form of the many staff, easily identified in their turquoise sweatshirts. One member of staff with 'welfare' printed on her sweatshirt singled us out for an offer of help that enabled us to pick our way through the crowds in the foyer, confidently avoiding frustrating wrong turns. It is a shame we did not have her in the car with us to read the map.

The seating area was at the front of the block with a gentle ramp leading to it. There was ample room for wheelchairs and reserved seating for helpers to sit alongside or behind. Our view was unimpeded to the stage, many stewards were on hand and the toilets were close by. I felt secure despite the fact that I was in a darkened auditorium with 10,000 screaming kids.

I know my daughter left feeling that this had been a special occasion and I was the proud dad who had been able to take her. It had been well worth the effort and Hear'Say were wonderful.

FACT FILE:

Address: Telewest Arena, Arena Way, Newcastle, NE4 7NA Web:www.telewestarena.co.uk Phone: Ticket Hotline 0870 707 8000. Disabled Information 0191-260 5000, you can ask to be switched through to the Box Office for a seating plan. Concessions: Sadly, none.

NOTICEBOARD:

Car Parking Abuse: Do you get annoyed when there is no disabled parking bay because people not entitled to using them have got in before you? You can help solve this problem by taking part in a survey on behalf of the Disabled Drivers Motoring Club. The aim is to gather information on just how committed supermarkets are to eliminating car parking abuse. You will need a form available from www.disabilitynow.org.uk to record the information which you then send to Disability Now, 6 Market Road, London N7 9PW.

Published: October 4th 2001