Paul Garfield hadn’t been to Israel in eight years. A wheelchair user from the UK living with progressive multiple sclerosis, he had long put off the trip – not for lack of desire, but because air travel in his condition felt nearly impossible.
“The transfers are hard,” he explained. “From my wheelchair to the aisle chair, and then again into the airplane seat. It’s a lot, and it’s not easy.”
But everything changed after October 7, when Paul’s son Daniel passionately made aliyah and joined the army as a lone soldier. He was stationed near Gaza with the IDF’s Givati Brigade. “I needed to hold my boy,” Paul said, “to see him in uniform. I had to be here.”
So he reached out for help and called Yad Sarah, the leading nonprofit provider of healthcare support in Israel. That call set everything in motion.
Making the trip possible
When Paul landed in Tel Aviv a few weeks later, a volunteer driver met him in a lift-equipped van. At his hotel, a hospital bed, hoist, and shower chair had already been delivered and set up.
“Without that equipment, I couldn’t have come,” Paul said simply.
Still, nothing compared to the moment that followed – the reason he made the journey in the first place.
“When my son arrived, we were waiting for him on the beachfront,” Paul recalled. “He ran to me, in full uniform, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me on the head. That’s what accessible travel made possible.”
Over the next few days, Paul and his family explored the country. They wandered the Tel Aviv seaside promenade. They visited the Western Wall. They stood together at a scenic overlook of Jerusalem’s historic skyline. And they traveled south to Sderot and the site of the Supernova music festival massacre, where Paul insisted on paying tribute to the victims himself.
Stories like Paul’s are a powerful reminder of what’s at stake when we talk about accessible tourism. Travel is about more than sightseeing. It’s a chance to connect with loved ones, to build memories and a genuine sense of belonging. However, for the 1.3 billion people worldwide living with disabilities, travel remains filled with obstacles – physical, logistical, emotional. It shouldn’t be this way.
Rethinking travel systems for accessibility
As global travel surges back to life, there is an opportunity – and an obligation – for policy-makers, nonprofits, business owners, and everyone shaping the travel experience to rethink how, and for whom, our travel systems are designed. Accessibility shouldn’t depend on luck, privilege, or personal connections. It should be the baseline.
In Israel and everywhere, governments must prioritize inclusive infrastructure. Cities need to plan for everyone – not just the able-bodied. And NGOs, like Yad Sarah, must continue filling the gaps, but they can’t do it alone. Businesses must step up as well. From accessible hotel rooms and transport services to inclusive public spaces and cultural sites, every part of the travel ecosystem must work together to make accessibility the norm – not the exception.
In Israel – a country both physically complex and emotionally intense – real progress is happening. Municipal efforts, supported by nonprofits like Yad Sarah, are making major tourist areas accessible through lift-equipped transportation and medical equipment rentals. This is happening amid change globally.
For example, in France, more than 100 beaches have been adapted with ramps, beach wheelchairs, and trained staff to assist travelers. Cities such as Barcelona and Singapore have integrated accessibility into transportation, tourism, and urban planning. These efforts are encouraging, but they must accelerate.
In many cases, the frameworks already exist – and are mandated by law. But on the ground, the reality often lags behind the regulations. That disconnect isn’t just a legal shortfall – it’s an economic one, too. People with disabilities represent a significant and growing segment of the travel market. When accessibility is prioritized, it doesn’t just open doors for individuals – it opens up entire industries.
At its core, though, this is about more than numbers or compliance. It’s about dignity. It’s about recognizing that exploration, discovery, and celebration are universal human needs. Travel connects us to each other, to history, to joy – and no one should miss a family simha, a prayer at the Western Wall, or a soldier’s embrace just because the ramp was missing. That’s the promise of accessible tourism. Not luxury – belonging.
Let’s work to make it real, everywhere, for everyone.
The writer is head of international affairs at Yad Sarah.