"I want people to see me as normal"

There are photographs of his family on shelves in the lounge, pictures on the walls, a television in one corner.

But this is the home of someone quite extraordinary.

And that's far from just because he's blind.

It's the way he talks about his disability, the way he laughs about some of the things ignorant people have said over the years, his belief in himself.

It's his independence, his sense of adventure (jumping out of planes, trekking through jungle, climbing mountains), the way he flicks through his photo album describing the pictures one by one, even commenting on what he's wearing.

Andy may never have been able to see, but within a short time of meeting him it's almost easy to forget that.

"My favourite colour is yellow," he says.

"When I was at boarding school as a young child, I used to be very homesick and upset, but when it was sunny everyone seemed happier. My teachers told me the sun was yellow, so yellow means happiness.

"Green is a very calming colour to me, it means fields and tranquil countryside, and blue means the sea. One of my favourite things is to be by the sea."

He has lived close to the water in a second floor flat at Baiter Park in Poole for the past 18 months.

Before that he lived and worked in London for 17 years, travelling on the Underground, liking nothing more than going to dinner and taking in a show in the evening.

"I always strive to be considered as just another person, not someone with a disability," he says.

Andy, 35, was born visually impaired and needed various operations at Moorfields Eye Hospital in London following a number of complications with his eyes.

From the age of four until he was 16 he went to Dorton House School in Kent, a boarding school for blind and partially-sighted children.

"I learnt a lot about coping with external environments, but academically the school was not so great. I'm a believer in integration and perhaps if I had been integrated into a state school I might have received a better academic education. But the daily living skills, the day-to-day survival techniques, gained through going to a special school counterbalances that argument."

He went on to study at the Royal National College for the Blind in Hereford before starting to look for work.

And that was not easy.

"Someone with a disability tends to be looked at as someone with a disability rather than someone with an ability. You have got to be better than others going for the job, trying to prove your disability isn't a barrier.

"I did all sorts of jobs. I wouldn't be unemployed, sat at home doing nothing."

He eventually got a job with the Royal National Institute for the Blind putting Braille books together. He ended up working in the welfare department, helping people cope with loss of vision.

"I have been extremely fortunate. I have had fantastic support from my mother, father and brother and the rest of my family. I don't think anyone could have got better support. You couldn't find people who are more enthusiastic about me realising my potential. Life would at times have been very difficult without them beside me.

"It's true what they say, it's better to give than receive. To be able to give support and help to others in the same way I received it is very rewarding."

After he was made redundant by the charity, he began working for Barclays. Over the past 14 years with the bank, he has worked in several different departments, including overseeing a specialised unit that provides alternative means of communication like Braille, large print and audiocassette.

He now works in Poole Processing Centre at Barclays House in the town centre as equality and diversity champion, helping ensure the bank is fully inclusive to employees and customers.

"I have been very fortunate with Barclays. The company has a great belief in recruiting people with disabilities and a great belief once they have recruited them in letting those people realise their potential."

He walks to work each day. Cyclists riding on the pavements and young skateboarders are a problem, as are those who see the white stick and just stop in front of him.

"What they should do is take a step to the right or left. Stopping in front of me is just not an option because then I lose my no-claims bonus," he laughs.

His desk at work seems much like any other in the large open plan office - until you take a closer look.

One gadget translates whatever is on the screen into Braille for him to read, another enables him to take down shorthand in Braille at a rate of 130 words a minute.

He doesn't need to have the screen on, but says it normally is.

His boss Dawn Hutchings says there's not much he can't do.

"He goes off to meetings by himself, there's not much we have had to change for him."

Glancing around the office, she says everyone has to be careful not to leave things lying around, everyone has to think a bit more.

"I have never worked with anyone who is visually impaired before, I don't think any of the team here has, and it's been a real education for all of us. What Andy can do is amazing and what he does in his outside life is a lot more than most of us do."

In June, Andy took part in the Three Peaks Challenge, which involves climbing the three highest mountains in England, Scotland and Wales (Scafell Pike, Ben Nevis and Snowdon) in less than 24 hours, to raise funds for the Daily Echo-backed Youth Cancer Trust.

Snowdon was tough. There were lots of rocky outcrops making the climb difficult for Andy and those guiding him. They completed Snowdon, but behind time they skipped Scafell Pike and the pressure was too much on others in the team for him to tackle Ben Nevis.

"I want to always give a positive image of someone with a visual impairment. If I take on a challenge, I hope it will inspire others to do the same, whatever their challenges in life. That could be something as simple as making a sandwich or walking to the shops. I think it would be remiss of me to sit back and not use the confidence and drive that I have.

"Whether you succeed or not is immaterial. To have the guts to stand up and try something is what's important. I was always told from a young lad that failure is not giving something a go, success is trying.

"There are knocks in life, things go wrong, it happens to all of us. But if you trust in your own ability and in those who are supporting you, you can conquer any mountain you want to."

In 2000, Andy took part in a tandem sky dive, raising £3,000 for British Blind Sport, which co-ordinates sporting opportunities for blind and partially-sighted people in the UK. An important cause to Andy, who plays cricket for a club in London and has played for the England blind cricket team.

Two years ago he trekked through the Borneo jungle. Sitting at a table in his lounge, flicking through photographs of the expedition, he explains he was with 11 able-bodied people and Tony Cuffling, an army sergeant major, was his guide. They walked 240km in seven days from Ranau to Sandakan, raising a massive £30,000 for the sport charity.

"It was warm. I could feel a lot of insects and there were so many noises to listen to. The sounds at night were amazing. You could hear monkeys in the distance and water buffaloes. The smells were incredible, too.

"One night we walked too late and when we needed to pitch camp their torches wouldn't give them a big enough expanse of light. But I could just get on with it and put the tents up. It was a great leveller."

And he set a record last year during a sponsored swim to raise money for the Dorset Youth Marching Band. He swam 12 miles in 12 hours, a British, European and Commonwealth record for swimming endurance for visually impaired people.

Disappearing into the kitchen to pour me a juice with the aid of a gadget on the side of the glass that beeps when the liquid nears the top, he says he would like to try to break that record.

Other gadgets he uses are not so technical, but ingenious nonetheless.

Transparent raised dots stuck next to the different temperature settings on the cooker, microwave and washing machine enable him to feel what he cannot see.

They are transparent so people don't immediately notice them, he said.

Dots are also stuck on light switches, so he knows if lights are on or off, and on the heating thermostat.

Reaching into the fridge, he feels the shape of packets to tell what food is what.

Store staff help him with his shopping, but he has to remember the use-by dates.

Ironing is very tricky, he added, carrying the drinks into the lounge.

He talks about the pictures he has up around the flat.

"I don't want to live in a box with nothing on the walls," he said.

In the evenings he listens to the radio and tapes, but he also has the television on. Smiling, he said the tennis isn't much good, though, and silent movies aren't great either.

"There are millions of people far worse off then me, it's only my eyes that don't work. I'm extremely lucky. People don't realise in this helter-skelter modern life that what they might think is a huge disaster is really quite insignificant in the huge scheme of things.

"There are times I wish I could see, just for a day. But I'm very happy being me, I'm very lucky being me. "I don't live in a life of regret."