MELBOURNE: Moana Osbourne has three sons on the autism spectrum and says travel can be challenging but has put some strategies in place to make things easier.

In what many people would consider a regular journey through Wellington Airport, Martin Semmler found himself sobbing in a corner.

A flash of light during the biometrics screening “hit [his] brain wrong”, leaving him feeling overwhelmed and humiliated.

“It just destroyed me,” says Semmler, 44, who has autism and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

“Every time I experience it, I feel like my soul is leaving my body … It feels like someone taking a photo of the back of my brain via the eyes.”

Semmler was departing from Sydney Airport alone and returning home to his family in Wellington, via Auckland, after visiting his parents in Australia. He says for many neurodivergent people like himself, discomfort from certain sensitivities such as lights and sounds accumulates throughout the day.

So while he had gone through the biometric screening before on previous trips, and “it’s always unpleasant”, this time was different. There was “a lot of airport that day”.

“At departure, I would have the mental fortitude to deal … but coming home at 11pm after 8 hours of airport meant that there was no buffer; I wasn’t totally prepared, and it just broke me,” he says.

Semmler says he learned later that being assisted manually by a person rather than being exposed to the machine was an option available to him as someone with hidden disabilities.

But he hadn’t known at the time. No one told him and he didn’t notice any signs.

The travel journey – from making a booking, being at the airport, flying on the plane, to settling in the accommodation of the new destination – can be distressing for neurodivergent people who experience the world differently to what’s considered typical.

The airport experience can be particularly difficult.

“Airports can be busy, complex places, and we recognise parts of the journey, particularly check-in, security screening and border control, can be challenging for some neurodivergent travellers,” says an Auckland Airport spokesperson.

Though it’s not always obvious if they or their families are struggling – and small stressors can build up.

Last month, Air NZ issued an apology to a Kiwi mum after she and her 9-year-old autistic son had to endure more than 30 hours of travel across three countries when a straightforward nine-hour flight from Auckland to Bali did not go to plan.

Ed Collett, Air NZ’s senior programme manager and disability advocate, acknowledges mistakes were made.

“The communication wasn’t what it should have been about what was happening,” he says.

One way the airline can help minimise stress for neurodivergent travellers is through the use of the hidden disability sunflower lanyard, says Collett.

It’s a global initiative offering wearers a discreet way to show staff they may need extra support, patience and care. All Air NZ cabin crew and most airports in New Zealand are trained in its use.

Wearing it has made a positive difference when travelling for both Semmler and Moana Osbourne, a mother of three sons on the autism spectrum.

Semmler calls it a “game-changer” and a “lifesaver”. He recalls a staff member at the airport seeing his lanyard and asking if he was okay.

“I probably wasn’t okay, but no one would have been able to tell … I was standing still and staring off into space because that’s how I was dealing with it at the time.”

For Osbourne, wearing the lanyard has helped the family skip lines at customs and board the plane first, helping them with extra time to get settled.

“Our boys generally only become distressed or overwhelmed if we do, so we make a conscious effort to stay calm in busy areas,” Osbourne says.

Collett, who’s a dad to two disabled children – one is autistic and one has cerebral palsy – says travel can be particularly overwhelming for an autistic person.

He imagines each person carrying a cup. Being exposed to a stressor that causes anxiety fills the cup with a little bit of water.

“Most of the time, your anxiety is at a point where there’s a little bit of water in the cup, and you’re okay. You’re managing things. You’ve got a bit of bandwidth to be able to understand, because your routine’s the same,” Collett says.

“Suddenly you go, right, we’re going to go to the airport, and we’re going to get you up earlier, and we’re going to go to a strange place.”

The time-sensitive nature of airport routines, unplanned moments, and the lights, smells and sounds of duty-free can add water to the cup, he says.

“By the time you’ve got to the boarding gate, the anxiety might be here and there. Then one little thing drops into the cup. You overflow. And it’s all too much.”

For Semmler, travelling was always a time when he had to be on guard.

“It’s really quite nerve-wracking … I’m fully anxious the whole time,” he says.

“My whole life I have to take a deep breath and shuffle as quickly as I can as far into the airport as I can to survive through that,” he says. “It’s so unpleasant.”

Auckland-based Osbourne, 40, says she feels “absolutely judged” in public when travelling with her sons – twins aged 17, and her youngest, 15.

“People need to understand that autism is a spectrum and no two individuals are the same,” Osbourne says.

During a trip to Japan, she recalls deciding at the last minute to skip Osaka because the full-day bullet train journey would have been too restrictive for one of her sons, who needs to move around frequently to avoid frustration.

Both Semmler and the Osbourne family prepare in advance to help reduce anxieties.

“It is about two days of explicit conscious mental preparation and about three or four days to recover afterwards,” Semmler says.

“I can’t do anything more complicated than make a cup of tea for a few days after being in an airport.”

Osbourne says she researches “every single detail of a trip”.

“We read reviews from other families travelling with disabilities, plan ahead for potential behavioural challenges, and call the airline to confirm our requirements,” she says.

“Comprehensive medical insurance is an absolute necessity for us.”

Airlines such as Air NZ and Emirates have staff training and initiatives in place to support neurodivergent travellers.

Every three months, Air NZ runs trial flights for autistic children and their families at its Māngere training centre, where they can familiarise them with key stages of the flight experience.

The Autism Flight Familiarisation includes a mock check-in, security screening, boarding, in-cabin procedures and 30 minutes of flying time with volunteer cabin crew.

The airline currently works with Autism NZ and Acorn Neurodiversity to find families who need the experience, but says it hopes to go wider in the future, where families can register themselves. There is no cost to families.

“They have a drink and a cookie, but at any time it becomes too much, they can just go out the back door, sit on the bean bag and relax,” Collett says.

Similarly, Emirates runs a “travel rehearsal” programme to build confidence in people on the autism spectrum through simulations of the flight experience ahead of the actual flight.

In April, Christchurch was one of 40 cities to host the rehearsal since it launched in April 2025.

The Dubai-based airline says the rehearsals will continue to roll out throughout its global network for the rest of the year, and it invites more schools and centres to participate.

Last year, Emirates became an autism certified airline through the International Board of Credentialing and Continuing Education Standards. More than 30,000 of its cabin crew have undergone autism and sensory-awareness training.

Tami Harris, chief executive of Acorn Neurodiversity, says being able to “preview” the travel experience can be helpful.

“Go to the airport terminal and spend a little time with your child there getting used to all the sights, sounds and busyness,” Harris says.

“Go look at how the baggage carousel works, go look at how security works; anyone can go in there at any time.”

She also suggests watching YouTube videos about the flying experience and making “social stories” – illustrative stories about what to expect.

Auckland Airport says it works directly with travellers with higher or more specific support needs, their families or support people, ahead of travel, including co-ordinating with airport partners where additional planning would help make the journey easier.

Auckland Airport also plans to launch new training modules covering hidden disabilities and broader accessibility awareness to its frontline teams in November.

“Looking ahead, accessibility is also being considered as part of our future terminal development, including plans for a dedicated low sensory space in the new Domestic Jet Terminal,” an Auckland Airport spokesperson says.

Semmler feels most people misunderstand autism in adults.

“People think autism and then they think it’s a childhood thing,” Semmler says.

“The children who have autism grow up to be adults with autism. It doesn’t go away. They just get better at making other people feel less uncomfortable.”

According to a recent study by the University of Otago, diagnoses for autism have more than tripled over the past 15 years in New Zealand.

“Society needs to evolve quickly,” Osbourne says.

She says there needs to be a plan for when autistic children become adults.

“The world can be a difficult place, and we won’t be here forever to protect them, so there is a vital need for more facilities and resources dedicated to autistic adults.

“Instead of staring at a struggling parent, it would be much more helpful to offer a word of encouragement or a helping hand.”