We’d just passed a small lifeboat station on the Pembrokeshire coastal path, when, slip, slide, crack, my ankle broke. Sheer denial of the truth, meant I waived a rescue helicopter flight - I could still hobble - so I did, back to civilization: although a couple of passing walkers kindly offered to carry me. However, I thought that might do them more harm than I’d already suffered ;-))

An operation later, here I am in plaster, immobile for six weeks, learning an enormous amount about being a disabled customer.

All of a sudden a shop step is an assault course, whilst standing at the top of a flight of restaurant steps is akin to daring to take a bungee jump. The station seats are behind a swing door I cannot push whilst balancing on crutches, and wheelchairs are upset by slopes, gravel and any number of small ground imperfections.

I’m learning which organizations provide wheelchairs - the National Trust and some supermarkets are very good; who has thought about stair lifts, and wide retail spaces for manoeuvring; and who will change their processes to accommodate a disability - when I called the Albert Hall to cancel my Proms tickets they asked if I could bring them in in person to get a refund; BBC policy !!!!! But I cannot walk that’s why I’m cancelling!!!

But the greatest fun is the social side, men seem fascinated by a leg in plaster, and invariable stop me in the street to ask about it - empathising with a wince. Women are not nearly so interested in the physical, but do recognize the need for help with shopping and getting lots of rest.

I hadn’t planned this research, but now I’m here I’ll put it to good use for our customer experience training.