Inspirational businessman Daniel Hopkins has conquered a mountain despite being partially sighted. He tells SUE BRADLEY how he copes with the daily challenges that come from living with a disability

BUSINESSMAN Daniel Hopkins’ partial sightedness is not immediately obvious to those meeting him for the first time.

In fact, many of his customers who talk to him on the telephone have no idea he has problems with his periphery vision.

And on the odd occasions he does go out with his white cane, such as when he walks to the station to catch a train, he can end up getting a few odd looks if he sits down and starts reading his Kindle.

“My condition affects my peripheral vision, but I can still see things close up,” says the 49-year-old father of two, who lives in Wanborough.

“Most people with RP have it the other way round.

“One of the most challenging situations for me is to be in a crowded space, but if you look at me you would never know there was anything wrong.”

An hour or so in Daniel’s company reveals some of the tactics he employs to cope with his RP. Despite having children, his home is extremely tidy, with clear routes from room to room. And he’s always careful to put things away after using them so there’s no chance he’ll accidentally knock them over later on.

“I’m forever considering the risk of injury and making sure any obstacles are out of the way,” he says. “My brain has to work very hard.”

The former Headlands pupil was 27 when he was diagnosed with the genetic eye condition Retinitis Pigmentosa, or RP.

He had gone to see his doctor after a few minor car accidents, and a near miss involving an elderly woman who stepped out in front of his vehicle, made him question whether his vision was as clear as it should be.

“I think I started to recognise the symptoms at 14 but I just thought that the problems I was having was because I was clumsy, or the dog was too small,” he says.

“I was very sporty: I played lots of sports, particularly football. I remember running down the wing and somehow leaving the ball behind. I remember being taken off one day and my sport teacher saying ‘you’re just not on it today’. I just couldn’t see the ball.”

Despite having prior misgivings over his eyesight, the cold reality of the specialist’s diagnosis and the prohibitions it brought to his life, such as no longer being allowed to drive, came as a shock.

“It rocked my world for a bit,” says Daniel. “I ended up losing my job because I could no longer drive, and not being able to get behind the wheel was tough for a car nut like me.

“I remember this period of my life being pretty challenging because everything came at once.”

Daniel went on to get a new job at a construction supply company but it made him feel frustrated because he wasn’t able to make the most of his people skills.

Eventually he decided to draw on his years of experience and set up his own company, employing a driver and using the latest technology to do the things he couldn’t do himself.

Daniel founded and ran two successful businesses dealing with supplies for the construction industry, both of which he went on to sell after being made offers he couldn’t refuse.

In 2014 he joined forces with a product engineer to set up Metex Online Limited, selling innovative products such as ‘Rat Wall’, which stops rodents from getting into houses through drainage systems; ‘Screedpod’, a screed-levelling tripod; and ‘Corefix’, a fixing system for dot and dab plasterboard walls.

“Starting a new company is always challenging, but I’m enjoying it,” he says.

“My plan is to grow the business over the next seven or eight years and then to hand over the reins of the company entirely to my partner.”

Alongside his business interests, Daniel is a parent helper at his nine-year-old son Henry’s school, helping children with their reading, and he’s still able to enjoy sport having joined a cricket team for people with visual impairments.

“We’re called the Gloucestershire Growlers and we’re quite serious – potentially we’re going to win the league this year,” says Daniel, who also has a daughter, Harriet.

“Some of the guys I play with are totally blind but they still bat and bowl using a ball containing ball bearings. They’re quite inspirational. I have more sight than a lot of them and often act as a guide.”

Last October Daniel and a group of friends climbed Mount Kilimanjaro and raised more than £20,000 for the Fighting Blindness charity.

But while he undertook an intense training regimen beforehand, which included walking 20 to 30 miles a week, it was a tough challenge to scale the 5,000 metres to the summit.

“I was pretty fit but I had to watch every step,” he says.

“Both the mental and physical fatigue were immense and I was very emotional when we reached the summit. I feel massively proud that I did it.”

It’s clear that Daniel is an optimist and clearly driven to make the most of abilities, but he’s also a realist and knows his vision will worsen.

“RP is a progressive condition and there’s no cure: I already have cataracts as a result of it and to operate on them would actually hasten the decline of my eyes,” he says.

“I’m hoping to be involved in research for RP, and the good news is that it looks as though the future for new sufferers is more promising.

“I think the statistics regarding visually impaired people are ridiculous. Only five per cent of visually impaired people are able to work, while the number who run their own business is minute, less than one per cent, and the fact that I am able to do it is something I’m quite proud of, to be honest.

“Over the years I’ve tried to own up to my condition and live with it.

“Sometimes I feel angry about it – you only need to ask Naomi, my wife: just doing simple things such as taking my son to the cinema when my wife is away means having to ask somebody to take us. The RP makes so many decisions for me and I find that frustrating because of the person I am.”

Despite his eye condition, Daniel is determined to live life to the full.

“As far as I’m concerned, I have a disability but I’m determined not to let it hold me back, and I hope to show others in my position that you still can go on and achieve,” he says.

Extracts from Daniel's Kilimanjara diary

Awake and in the mess tent for 11.20pm. We forced down cookies and porridge, so strange at this time of the night, should it not be curry and beer?? It’s midnight and we’re off with head torches, single file and no one can see a thing except the bit of ground in front and the heels of the person ahead.

It is all relentlessly uphill and the ground is very rocky. The first hour whizzes by and the second hour we are into zigzagging switchbacks. I have a new guide which is making me doubt I can do this and then suddenly Brian arrives. We take the lead at some point but the others soon pass us as the darkness and mental fatigue take their toll on my eyes. At 2am Ian takes a picture of me; I’m so mentally exhausted but Sinead and Ian are being incredible. At 3 we all realise just how dangerous this is becoming. I’m struggling to place one foot in front of another and am really concerned about falling and breaking something, or worse.

... We decide it is too dangerous and stop in a sheltered nook out of the wind to talk. Others with head torches climb past us. We have some of Sinead’s chocolate and some nuts. But if we go back down surely it will be more dangerous? Against the flow of climbers on the path and a fall would be worse going downhill. And we are half way anyway aren’t we? Ian suggests another 15 minutes and we’ll see where we are, so we carry on with renewed enthusiasm that we were taking the most risk free option.

... We start seeing people coming back down held up by guides. People who couldn’t make it. They didn’t give us eye contact. Acute Mountain Sickness or exhaustion. So demoralizing. Are we going to be one of those people soon?

... We trudged. And trudged. The ice walls of the glacier one side and the caldera the other. We couldn’t see down like a conventional mountain. Hidden behind the glacier walls in the distance and miles beyond that the lower cloud cover. We were in a special place that was a different world. Sinead’s spirits had recovered quickly.

... We trudged. People coming back were very encouraging. “Not long now”. But it took forever. It was a tough, tough hour...

Read more at rpfightingblindness.org.uk/index.php?pageid=638