Woburn Safari - Finding our way back

Hawthorn is sitting on the path, Wren is sitting on his knee, being cuddled whilst a lemur walks past, and other lemurs are nearby

Woburn Safari Park has been a favourite of ours for a long time now. Longer, in fact, than ‘us’.

I lived nearby, took countless school trips there, and when in need of quiet sustenance, would park the car on the outskirts and watch the herd of deer for an hour or two. Obviously, I was going to take my children there.

When Hawthorn was wee, we had a toddler pass (and were gutted it was no longer an option when Wren came along). We were there at least once a week, and have so many stories I could tell of toddler and animal shenanigans, but as always, I digress.

Feel free to ask me to come back to those later, OK?

Hawthorn and Wren adore animals. We bring home every waif and stray, do what we can for wildlife, and Wren is adamant she wants to be a vet.

However, days out at places like Woburn Safari have become difficult for us.

Wren is the most social butterfly and needs to see everything there is as soon as she possibly can. Her FOMO is famous within the family.

Hawthorn, on the other hand?

He needs calm and quiet and a place to escape to when the overwhelm hits.

Animal parks are magnets for family days out, and therefore, by their very nature, are loud and busy and A LOT.

We hadn't been to Woburn for ages because we simply couldn't work out how to meet both their needs in one go. We couldn't see how it could be done.

Earlier this year, we finally won our fight to get Hawthorn an EHCP, and this unlocked the Milton Keynes Council Local Offer. Included in that was a SEND session at Woburn Safari, and naturally this intrigued me.

Was it possible for Hawthorn to enjoy one of his favourite places again?

Obviously, we booked onto the next available slot to give it a try.

The SEND offer gave entry to the child and an accompanying adult, allowing us entry to the park for the entire day, with the session at their brand-new SENse the Safari education centre in the early afternoon.

Incredibly generous, really, and in actuality very easy and straightforward to use. We just checked in at the entrance as standard, enjoyed the road safari, then stopped to picnic by the lake for lunch.

Naturally, Hawthorn immediately befriended every duck and seagull within a large radius. We struggled to get the pair of them to even carry on to the foot safari because Swan Lake was far too entertaining.

Eventually we made it into the main park, with Wren heading off to ride the swan boats with the husbeast while I took Hawthorn to the education centre.

It wasn't the best start, if I'm honest.

The new centre sits on what was the site of Rainbow Landing, the old lorikeet exhibit…

Which happened to be Hawthorn's absolute favourite.

I mean, the child insisted I make him a lorikeet costume, and wore it to Rainbow Landing to feed the lorikeets.

On the left: Toddler Hawthorn in his lorikeet costume, running into a house and looking back at the camera. On the right: Costumed Hawthorn holds a lorikeet in his hand and feeds him nectar from a small cup in the other

He was NOT amused to discover it was gone.

That being said, SENse the Safari is gorgeous.

Image shows the exterior of the SENse The Safari Education Centre

The detail and thought that has gone into it is incredible and, as an ex-SEND educational professional, I was doing cartwheels at how beautifully put together the space was.

The proof is in the pudding, as they say, and for once Hawthorn did not do his usual trick of hiding away and needing to be encouraged to enter and see what was available.

It wasn't exactly a stampede, but he went straight through the door and began exploring immediately.

Hawthorn is using a small implement to lift kinetic snow from a tough tray

Bright, airy and colourful without being overwhelming, the room is so well thought out, with both indoor and enclosed outdoor options, as well as a dedicated sensory room.

There were multiple tables and shelves with real artefacts for the children to touch and examine, books and toys, and even sinks and counters ready for messy play. There's an accessible toilet in the main corridor and, on the other side of that, a lovely little animal room where children can still have animal encounters with the peace and quiet that so many need.

The staff were knowledgeable about SEND needs, with many coming from education backgrounds, and the ladies we spoke to were brilliant. There was no pressure for the children to join in or participate, and the staff tended to let them lead the way, following their cues.

But what made my heart sing that wee bit louder was the tiny SEND-friendly changes I saw around the park itself.

This is not the safari park I remember.

It's so much better.

Woburn Safari seems to have embraced the concept of inclusion far more thoroughly than many other venues we've visited.

Many exhibits now have additional information and signage designed to make them more accessible to SEND visitors, including the use of Makaton. Every member of staff we encountered seemed to understand and accept Hawthorn's needs without us having to launch into explanations or justify why he might behave, respond or participate differently.

Wren and Hawthorn sit on the path near each other, listening to a park keeper tell them about the lemurs, whilst lemurs roam freely around them.

And they seem to be actively working towards offering more events and experiences that include the whole family.

That last bit matters.

Because so often, SEND accessibility means finding something specifically designed for Hawthorn — which is wonderful — but leaves us wondering what on earth we do with Wren.

Or we find something Wren will adore, while knowing Hawthorn will be overwhelmed within twenty minutes.

They are two children who both desperately want to experience the world, but need almost completely opposite things from it.

Wren needs MORE.

More animals. More rides. More people. More things to see. More things to do. Preferably all simultaneously and preferably five minutes ago.

Hawthorn often needs less.

Less noise. Less expectation. Less rushing. Less uncertainty. Somewhere he can stop, regulate and decide when — or whether — he's ready for the next thing.

Neither child is doing days out incorrectly.

They just experience them differently.

And somehow, at Woburn, we were able to find something for both kinds of needs — in a way that they could both access simultaneously.

Hawthorn and Wren, quietly watching the lemur chaos together.

The Holy Grail of family days out, if you will.

There were still negotiations. There were still moments when one wanted to go left while the other wanted to go right. We remain the Brambles; no amount of thoughtful accessibility is going to turn us into one of those suspiciously serene families who glide around attractions in matching neutral knitwear.

But Hawthorn didn't simply endure the day so his sister could enjoy it.

He enjoyed it too.

And Wren didn't have to spend her day being told to wait, be quiet or miss things because her brother couldn't cope with them.

She got to be Wren.

He got to be Hawthorn.

And we got to be a family having a day out, rather than two parents desperately trying to run two separate experiences in roughly the same geographical location.

That's inclusion.

SENse the Safari is a wonderful resource, and absolutely worth shouting about. But what impressed me even more was discovering that the thinking behind it doesn't appear to stop when you walk back through its doors.

It's beginning to weave through the park itself.

For a family who had quietly stopped visiting a place we once loved because it had simply become too difficult, that's rather bloody lovely.

It definitely intrigued us.

And I have a sneaking feeling we'll be back sooner rather than later.

Although Hawthorn would still like Rainbow Landing back.

You can't win them all.