I felt like I didn’t get to see much of the historic parts of Vienna and so Thursday morning I dragged myself out of bed early and went into the city by myself.  I promised to be back with breakfast by 9:00a.m. and I was in the city by 7:00 so I had nearly two hours to just walk and explore.  It was SO lovely.  It was quiet, no tourists, no crowds, nothing was even open.  I shared the streets with stock deliverers, joggers and street sweepers.  It was also nice to be out sans children, but best of all- it wasn’t hot! The temperature was perfect.  

I didn’t have a city map, or any kind of guide, so I can’t even tell you what these building are.  But they give a great taste of Vienna’s architecture and charm.    

I finished my solitary morning in Vienna by eating a fruit tart and drinking freshly squeezed orange juice at a small cafe on the market square.  Then I took the train back to our flat, grabbed some pastries and fruit for breakfast, and returned to the reality of traveling with four kids.  

We packed up and headed out, working our way from the eastern edge of Austria, four hours west to a Eurocamp near the town Zell Am See.  I’ll write more about Eurocamps later, but it was a beautiful drive.  I’m glad we drove through the Austrian Alps first, because they might have been a let-down after we saw the Swiss Alps.  That’s not true, they were remarkable in their own right; they were majestic and beautiful and green and breathtaking.  I didn’t take any pictures on this drive, but I did on our drive to Venice a few days later.  

I think it was on our way to Zell Am See that we first had the idea to eat lunch at IKEA.  We wanted something quick, cheap and easy to order, but I couldn’t handle any more McDonald’s.  It turned out to be a great idea, and spotting an IKEA from the motorway is just as easy as spotting a McDonald’s. 

We didn’t get to our Eurocamp until late afternoon, and the kids were dying to go swimming.  So we checked in to our little “camper”, threw on swim-suits and headed for the pool.  It was really crowded but really fun to be in water after so many hot days.  We went back to our camper, dressed, and drove into the town to do some grocery shopping. 

The next hour of my life was such an overwhelming and discouraging time I hesitate to relive it.  I’ll warn you that is totally #firstworldproblems and #travelingproblems, both of which don’t justify complaining.  But alas, I’m going to complain.  I’ve been in foreign grocery stores before, and usually I really enjoy it.  But this time, it was already dinner time and my hungry family were all waiting for me out in the car.  I was trying to hurry but that just made it worse.  I couldn’t find simple essentials like ketchup (what can I say, my kids are American) and matches.  Everything was in German, and the store was HUGE. (Go ahead, say it just like Donald Trump.)  I wandered around hopelessly lost and confused, and at one point I nearly burst into tears.  I know I’m being dramatic but it was really overwhelming.  I wanted to buy everything I needed to last the next three days, but I wanted to do it FAST.  Suffice it to say, that we mostly ended up eating potatoes, chicken drumsticks, bratwurst, and fruit and veg for dinner for the next three days.  Which isn’t really anything to complain about I suppose.  As a side note- I spent a lot of time looking for almond milk for Simon, so he could have cereal too, and I did have a few other more obscure items, but mostly I was just disoriented.  Then going through the check-out was stressful because I couldn’t understand what the cashier was saying to me, and I had to bag my own groceries (which is NOT a big deal unless you are already flustered) and I had forgotten which card I was supposed to use.  

Eventually we made our way back to our camper, cooked some dinner, and then went for a walk to check out the rest of the campground.  

I’ve wanted to write about this topic for a while, because for various reasons I’ve felt a passion and an activism welling up inside of me.  But it’s terrifying, and I couldn’t quite find the words.  Then I heard about Pope Francis’s speech to congress, and a lightbulb went off in my mind. I read it, and I felt renewed courage to authentically share these issues that have nestled into my heart. 

I was raised in conservatism.  I don’t have specific memories of my parents’ political ideology, and I know their views have evolved over the years, but I suppose that it was of a “Republican” nature. My church congregation and my geographic community were predominantly conservative as well.  In high school I loved my American Government class, and I argued in class debates in favor of private education tax credits, in opposition to gun control, and of course lower taxes and less government involvement.  In college I took a political science class and received praise (from my liberal professor) for a paper I wrote in support of the death penalty.  I don’t say that to boast, just to acknowledge that my political beliefs DID have thoughtful and articulate roots.  Shortly after marrying Richard, he and I became interested in, and I would even say supportive of, Glenn Beck.  After a couple years both Richard and I became disillusioned with Glenn Beck’s sensationalism and contentious pot-stirring, but still I considered myself a conservative.  I took pride in my stalwart values, and frowned upon the “immorality” of liberal ideas.

Looking back, if I could simplify my conservative values in words and phrases I would use self-reliant, morally superior, independent, punitive, economically responsible, self-interested, practical, frugal and just.

This is the part that is hard to pin down.  But as far as I can tell, my political foundations began shifting a few years ago when circumstances of a personal nature brought me into a community of women who have become dear friends.  We formed bonds unlike any relationships I had ever known.  A love developed between us that made our little community a safe, accepting, non-judgmental, forgiving and supportive place. There was nothing political about my new group of friends, in fact we were about as politically diverse as any group I know, but our relationships were based on compassion, support, generosity and mercy. These women made me feel closer to God than I had ever felt before, and I started to wonder if my “conservative values” weren’t accurately reflecting this new-found charity that I felt. 

What Pope Francis articulated for me so well is that my number one obligation (beyond my obligation to my God) is to my fellow man.  As a conservative I found myself always turning inward, my values directed my obligation back toward myself; toward protecting MY rights, MY way of life, MY children’s education, MY money, MY convenience, MY prosperity. 

What has appealed to me from the liberal perspective is an obligation to my fellow men, a love and compassion that calls me to action on their behalf and my interests become directed outward; an obligation to the impoverished, to the oppressed, to the immigrant, to the uneducated, to the Earth.  These are the ways I feel closer to God.

Isn’t this what my religion has been teaching me all along? To love God first, and my neighbor next?  I have no problem reconciling my new political philosophies with my faith, rather my faith compelled me to change my political philosophies. 

In a recent episode of Downton Abbey the Dowager Countess asks Isobel, “Does it ever get cold on the moral high ground?” Conservatives love to take their place on the moral high ground.  I loved it too. But morality is more than just sexual sin and abortion.  Morality includes our obligation to all of God’s children.  Conservatives do not have a monopoly on morality. 

The acceptance, forgiveness, generosity and mercy I’ve felt in my relationships has made me look differently at the death penalty, at drug testing for welfare, planned parenthood, race issues, and immigration.  If I am pro-life, that means I value the life of the fetus and the life of the convicted criminal.  If I am going to sing “Because I have Been Given Much” at church on Sunday, I’m going to offer my charity with no strings attached.  If I really want to prevent abortions, I want to support an organization that helps vulnerable women prevent pregnancy in the first place.  If I want to love my neighbor as myself, I have to cut through my denial about the way my society has treated and continues to disrespect my Black or Latino neighbor.  And before I call for the deportation of people who cross over a man-made border, I simply cannot forget that but for the grace of God, I could have been born in Mexico or Syria. 

The compassion and empathy that drive my political beliefs are the same traits by which I try to live the non-political parts of my life. They are as much a part of me as my love for travel and my insatiable need for validation.  And for the people who are reading this who know me personally, intimately, I would hope that I’ve offered you this same compassion and empathy when you’ve needed it from me.  I think I have, not perfectly, but I know that when those I care for come to me in difficulty or sadness it is in my nature to respond in love.  So I hope that I’m putting my money where my mouth is so to speak, and I hope I am backing up my claims to my fellow men as much with my friends and family as I am with strangers and my “neighbors” in the broader sense. 

I know that reading this you might feel frustrated, I understand. Our political climate is one that fosters an attitude of “us” against “them”, demanding that we move further and further apart and dig in our heels.  I’ve used words like liberal, conservative and Republican because they are the vocabulary of our system, but I would rather not lump people into over-simplified categories.  I believe that in our living rooms and in our hearts most of us really feel more comfortable somewhere in the middle, but the media and society make no place for people in the middle, and there is a lot of name-calling for our politicians who dare to venture there.  In closing I want to share this quote, and my plea that we can embark in the upcoming political seasons with compassion and compromise, seeing each other as individuals and not labels, sharing ideas and not categorically dismissing them. 

“The call of conscience — whether religious or otherwise — requires no secular justification. At the same time, religious persons will often be most persuasive in political discourse by framing arguments and positions in ways that are respectful of those who do not share their religious beliefs and that contribute to the reasoned discussion and compromise that is essential in a pluralistic society.”
– Dallin H. Oaks (emphasis added) 

We woke up Wednesday to another scorcher of a day. We packed our frozen water bottles into back-packs, but by 11:00am we were refilling them at a public water fountain.  

Our plan was to go to Prater, a theme park in Vienna, before the day got too hot, but when we arrived there around 10:30am we realized most of the rides and restaurants didn’t open until noon.  So we decided to go to a museum first, and then come back to the park.  

The first museum we went to was The Mozart Haus, which was one of many of residences Mozart occupied in Vienna. (He was a restless fellow and moved quite regularly.)  It was interesting and there were audio guides which kept the kids mostly entertained, except Mim, who has since rebelled against the audio guide. 

On our way back to Prater we ate lunch in a subway cafe, we had baguette sandwiches and schnitzel and things of that sort.  It wasn’t particularly remarkable, but it was quick, cheap and out of the heat. 

At Prater admission is free, so we chose a few rides and then of course I had to go on the 117 meter (384 feet) swings! There was really nothing scary about it, but my kids were all terrified on my behalf. 

We went on one ride together as a family, hoping to get wet, but we were disappointed, and it really scared Miriam, which made her really angry with Richard and me for awhile.  

On our way to the next museum we stopped at a candy-making shop and watched a demo of how they made ribbon candy.  I remember hating ribbon candy as a kid, my mom would put it in our Christmas advent and no one ever wanted it.  But it looked so appetizing after watching how it was made.  And sure enough, it was delicious.  The kids opted for lollies though. 

The last museum we went to was the Haus der Musik, which had some great exhibits about Viennese musicians, a lot of interactive exhibits for kids, but also some exhibits that didn’t interest me at all.  

I think the highlight for all of us was this set-up they had where you could direct a virtual symphony, that would actually follow your tempo, and you had to keep it somewhat consistent and appropriate or the musicians would throw up their arms in frustration and laugh at you.  It was hilarious.  Eli did it best, which didn’t really surprise us. 

Mim and I had tickets to a marionette show that evening back at Schonbrunn Palace, so we split up from the boys and they went to dinner and headed back to the flat.  Mim and I didn’t have time for dinner so we grabbed a snack at the theatre cafe and then went into the show. 

The show was The Magic Flute, by Mozart, and it was all in German.  But before hand I had read over the story with Mim several times so she would have a general idea of what was happening.  She was mesmerized, and so was I.  She sat so still, she didn’t even suck her thumb, completely enchanted with the life-like puppets.  She kept saying to me how they looked “so real”, and “how do they do that?”  It was really amazing.  It was one of my favorite things about our entire holiday.  The theatre was quite small, probably less than 50 people, and after the show they took us back stage to show how they maneuver the marionettes.  During the musical, the puppets look so big, but afterward when we saw them up close they seemed so much smaller.   It was delightful. My only regret was that I didn’t bring Eli too, I think he would have really loved it.  (Good lesson for me in not gender-stereotyping my children’s activities.)  

After the show we took the train to the station near our flat, ate ice cream for a really late dinner, and then went home to bed.  

Our hotel served breakfast, so we didn’t get away as quickly on Tuesday morning. (But the oatmeal was so worth it…)  We spent the rest of the morning and the early part of the afternoon driving to Vienna.  We even ate McDonald’s on the road to save time.  We’ve discovered that most of the McDonald’s restaurants abroad have kiosk ordering, which helps so much when we don’t speak the language. 

The workbooks I made for the kids turned out to be worth the effort.  I think they learned a lot and they asked for them whenever we were driving in the car.  

When we arrived in Vienna, we drove straight to Schonbrunn Palace.  Nothing can be compared to Versailles in France, but Schonbrunn might come close.  Our ticket time to tour the palace wasn’t for awhile so we went to the Children’s Museum they have at the palace, which was really fun and interactive.  

Photography wasn’t allowed inside the palace, but suffice it to say it was opulent and huge.  We only toured 23 rooms, or something like that, and the palace has 1,441 rooms.  It was the residence of the Habsburg family, who were the Austrian royal family for 300 years.  In one of the parlors,  Mozart played a concert for the royal family at the age of 6. 

Because of the oppressive heat and because it was nearing closing time, we didn’t tour the gardens, but from the views inside the palace, they looked remarkable.  

I had promised the kids that we would try and find a place to swim, and I had found something online the night before.  It was a free “waterpark” made by channeling the Danube into a little island in the river.  We drove right to it, but couldn’t actually see it, so we thought we were in the wrong place, and we drove around frustrated and irritable and bewildered for another 30 minutes before we found our way back.  There was no place to park so Richard dropped off the kids and me and left us to swim for awhile.  

The sun was starting to set and we had an appointment to get the keys to our apartment from the owner so Richard picked us up and we drove to the apartment.  Parking was not to be found, again, so Richard dropped me off to meet the owner.  (This became a theme of the trip- Richard dropping me off and driving away and leaving me feeling helpless and abandoned.)   Fortunately, the woman showed up in a few minutes and let me into the apartment.  We had everything squared away and she left, but there was still no sign of Richard and the kids. We still hadn’t had dinner, so I walked across the street and ordered Chinese take-out.    

Richard and the kids found a parking spot, made their way back to the apartment with the luggage, and we ate a fried rice and chow-mein feast at 9:00 p.m.  

Monday morning I woke up early and went for a run.  I saw a side of Dresden that was so different from what we’d seen the day before.  It was neighborhood streets with charming European homes and every third shop was a “backerei” – which meant the aromas were amazing.  

We were really efficient in the morning and out the door around 8:30 for our drive to Prague.  I don’t remember exactly what time we arrived in Prague, but our first few hours there were downright miserable.  We drove to our hotel, which wasn’t ready for us to check-in which was fine.  In her best English the lady at the desk directed me to a parking lot.  But upon arriving at the parking lot we realized we needed to pay in cash, which is the Koruna Crown and we didn’t have any.  So we drove around looking for an ATM and then returned to the parking lot.  We parked the car and then started walking back toward the hotel to catch the tram.  Unfortunately there was no ticket office or kiosk at the tram station so we walked back to the hotel to ask where we would get tickets.  Unfortunately the place suggested to us didn’t sell children’s tickets, so we had to walk even further to a metro station.  It was so. hot.  SO HOT.  When we got to the metro station is was nice and cool down in the tunnel so we grabbed lunch at a little snack shop, bought our tickets and finally made our way into the city.  

Even after we got to the city center we weren’t sure how to get where we wanted to go.  In Dresden we had gotten a city map at a tourist office and that had made a huge difference, so we walked to the first tourist office we could find. Unfortunately all the maps were in Czech which really doesn’t resemble any language I am familiar with.  (Which aren’t many I suppose.)  

So we did the obvious thing and made our way up to the castle.  It was up a hill and we were so hot we just walked as slowly as we could.  Fortunately I had frozen all the plastic water bottles we had bought in Dresden and so we had a lot of cold water on hand.  

And Prague is a really beautiful city.  All the building facades are ornate, colorful and varied.  It was really lovely. (And everything was really cheap!)

We bought tickets to tour the castle, cathedral and basilica and meandered our way through it.  It was old.  It was huge.  It was really cool.  I really hate to say lame things like “once you’ve seen a castle, you’ve seen them all” but they really do become slightly less amazing each time.  And maybe since it was so wretchedly hot it was harder to enjoy.  But we made the best of it.  

Fortunately the walk from the castle down to Charles Bridge was all downhill.  A guide book I read said that Charles Bridge was the author’s favorite royal quarter mile – and despite it being really crowded I was impressed. From Wikipedia: 

“The bridge is 621 m long and nearly 10 m wide, resting on 16 arches. It is protected by three bridge towers… The Old Town bridge tower is often considered to be one of the most astonishing civil gothic-style buildings in the world. The bridge is decorated by a continuous alley of 30 statues and statuaries, most of them baroque-style, originally erected around 1700 but now all replaced by replicas.”

Once we reached the other side of the bridge we were sweltering and the kids were pretty burned out. I couldn’t bear the thought of being done for the day so we rejuvenated with ice cream and picked a couple more places to see.  

We walked to the Market Square, where restaurant employees and firemen sprayed hot tourists with water and there were street performers and live music.  Along with our sugar high, it re-energized us.  

We watched the Procession of the 12 Apostles as the Astronomical Clock struck 5:00 p.m.  Oringinally installed in 1410, it is the oldest working clock of it’s kind in the world.   Then we decided it was time to find a nice restaurant for a proper sit-down dinner.  

Mmmmmm.  Our dinner.  It took a little while but eventually we found a place offering authentic Czech food and it was soooo good.  It was probably my favorite meal.  It wasn’t air conditioned in the building, but it was cooler than outside, and after so much walking it felt so nice to relax.  I had beef goulash with white bread dumplings, the kids had schnitzel, and Richard had pork with potato dumplings.  It was all really delicious.  After dinner we needed to pick up a few practical things like another outlet adapter, so we did some quick shopping and then I begged the kids to hold out for one more stop.  

The compromise to go see one more place included riding a tram instead of walking, and we made our way to the Lennon Wall.  During the communist regime in the 1980s the wall became a place where young Czechs voiced their desire for freedom, and John Lennon became the symbol of that hope.  No matter how often local authorities white-washed over the wall within days it was recovered with messages of love and peace.   We had a good talk with the kids about freedom of speech and what it is/was like for people living under communist rule. 

From there we took the tram back to the metro and then rode back to our hotel.  Richard walked with Cameron and Eli back to the car to retrieve our luggage and then we all crashed in our hostel-style single beds lining the walls of our giant shared room.  

At some point, either before we left or at the beginning of the trip, I made a choice not to be a drill sergeant travel mom. It was too long of a trip to push hard every day, and I had to be realistic about my expectations of my kids.  So every morning I let everyone sleep until they woke up naturally, (which for young kids isn’t really that late anyway).  We looked into our church options for Sunday but the meeting was at 9:00 and the day before had been so long that we just didn’t make it.  I put some spiritually-minded videos on for the kids while we got ready.  

We got to the train station about 10:00 and did our best to decipher the German and buy tickets for the day.  Many places we visited had a family ticket that was good on all forms of transport (train, bus, tram, metro), or else we could buy a day ticket for each of us and Mim & Si were often free.  The kids were really impressed in Dresden with the double-decker trains, and it was fun to ride on top and get a better view of the city. 

Dresden was such a sad place for me.  I’m not really sure why I chose it to be honest. I think I wrote a report about the bombing of Dresden when I was in 8th grade, and so it tugged at my heart strings.  Originally we planned to drive up to Berlin, but decided that was too far north, so I chose Dresden as our stopping place.  As we rode the train into the city I wasn’t even sure what we were going to see or do.   

Before WWII Dresden was known as the “Jewel Box” because it of it’s many beautiful baroque buildings, but the city center was virtually destroyed during the Allied bombing in February 1945.  Traveling through the city there were places that you could tell had never been rebuilt.  After the war Dresden was part of the GDR (East Germany) and so a lot of rebuilding didn’t even begin until 1990 after reunification with West Germany.   

Despite the tragic history of the city, it turned out to be full of beautiful things to see, amidst a lot of rough neighborhoods and parched August gardens and parks.  

It didn’t take us long to learn that many businesses, shops and restaurants don’t open on the weekends.  Richard and I found that both impressive and inconvenient.  Europeans just have such a different perspective about commerce.  Personal life really matters, weekends matter, bottom-lines are only second priority.  In any case, we found a bakery nearby the main train station and had some pastries for breakfast.  They were so good and we were so hungry that as soon as we saw a second bakery that was open, we had second breakfast.   

We walked toward the aldstadt (old town) and on our way stopped in the market square.  My favorite part of any European City.  

We crossed the bridge over the River Elbe into the “neustadt” (new city.)  As an interesting side note, the “old city”  was destroyed in the war, so it is almost entirely restored, making it actually newer than the “new city”.

Once again it was Sunday so it was hard to find a place to eat, but we settled for some street food; pizza and bratwursts.  From there we walked to a passage-way I read about on Pinterest or somewhere called “Kunsthofpassage.” 

The “Courtyard of Elements” includes this building, which is a system of pipes built in a way that makes music when rain falls and water drains through them.  It was inspired by Rube Goldberg Machine, “converting the mere patter of rainfall into a spectacular orchestral symphony.”  Sadly it wasn’t raining when we were there, but the kids were nonetheless entertained by cooling off under the dripping funnel.  

It was hot and the kids were spent so we took a tram to a park Richard found on the map.  We found some ice lollies to help us cool off, and then just let the kids play in the grass.  

After Simon messed his pants and the rest of the kids were sufficiently exhausted we caught the tram back to the main train station, bought some groceries for dinner and went back to our apartment.  We played games that night and had an early bedtime.  

Since we had to haul car seats (plus all our luggage) we decided not to take public transport, and we arranged for a driver to pick us up at home and drive us directly to the airport.  Our flight left London at 7:30 a.m. and it takes an hour to get to the airport, so our car came at 4:30 a.m.  The kids were so excited, they chattered the whole way to the airport.  

Our experience at the airport went as smoothly as can be expected, but carrying six suitcases and four car-seats/booster seats is just not an easy task.   (European laws are more strict so even Cameron uses one.)  We made it to our gate just in time to board, but we didn’t have enough time to grab any breakfast or snacks or even water for the flight.  And when you fly cheap airlines, there are no freebies on board.  

By the time we landed in Frankfurt we were all ravenous and tired, and it was only 10:00 a.m.  We gathered our stuff, anxious to get it all squared away in our rental car, when we were informed by the woman at the Avis desk, in broken English, that our car wasn’t ready.  The car was available, but she needed special permission to release it to us because we were returning it in another country.  We had made the reservation weeks ago, and Richard and I were baffled about why this had been overlooked but our communication with the woman at the desk was really limited due to the language barrier.  So we ate some brunch at an airport cafe, some really yummy pastries, and then we waited and waited.  It was particularly frustrating because we didn’t know how long we would have to wait.  An hour? Two?  Four?  It ended up being two hours, and at about 12:00 we got the keys to the VW Caddy , an ugly but spacious van, that would shuttle us around Europe.  

Our hotel reservation that night was in Dresden, but I wanted to stop in a German town that would give us a small taste of German villages and Heidelberg wasn’t too far out of the way.  It was a great choice- I LOVED it. 

By the time we found parking it was around 2:00 and our first order of business was to find something to eat.  In the books I’d made for the kids I’d made a big deal about bratwurst in Germany so we were on the lookout for a place that would fit the bill and we scored big.  The bratwursts were so good that Richard, Cam and Eli became immediately hooked and it was their meal of choice, until we got to Italy and it became pizza.  I wish I’d taken a picture of a bratwurst, but it’s just like the photo below, a really long wurst sticking out a good 2-3 inches on either side of the amazing bun.  The bread/bun was just as important to the experience as the wurst.  As frustrating as it is to order food in a restaurant where the employee doesn’t speak English, it’s always satisfying because it feels authentic to me.  (All the places where tourists eat have English speaking employees.)  The man at the bratwurst shop was really friendly and accommodating and mostly we just laughed at ourselves as we tried to order with gestures and nodding yes or no.  It still didn’t come out right, but we had no complaints.  

After lunch we walked down along the river, made our way through some streets, ate some ice cream and then found our way back to the car to make the long drive to Dresden.  

Heidelberg stole my heart, I think it’s up there in my Top 5 favorite European cities along with Bern, Switzerland and Bruges, Belgium.  (I’m not sure what the other two are…) 

The drive to Dresden took the rest of the day, and when we arrived it was dark.  The check-in time listed was only until 8:00pm and I knew we weren’t going to get there in time.  Many of the places we stayed in were private apartments rented out via Booking.com (I didn’t use AirBnB this time, but we have in the past) and so I had a phone number to contact the owner but it was not working.  When we arrived at the destination, according to our Sat-Nav, (which I must mention was a HUGE bonus in our massive Caddy) we could not figure out where exactly the apartment was.  As I mentioned, I couldn’t get through on the phone number, so Richard and I were both considering our options.  All we could see at the address was a nail salon, but finally I walked around to the back of the building and found a name plate on a wall buzzer (what is the real name for those things?) and I buzzed up.  Sure enough it was the woman I needed and she let us into the apartment.  Sadly, it had no air-conditioning (the first of many) and so it was pretty toasty, luckily we were all pretty beat.  

Long. Day.  

(Re-reading over that last paragraph, I feel like it is written in such a nonsensical way it represents the way I was feeling while I was living it.  Too tired and annoyed to be concerned with improper or over-use of parenthesis.) 

Before I get into daily posts about our trip, I want to write some thoughts about it, while they are still fresh.  
In one of my favorite blog posts by Glennon, (I’ve probably mentioned it before) she talks about how at the end of each day when her husband would ask how her day was she would think 

“How was my day? Today has been a lifetime. It was the best of times and the worst of times. There were moments when my heart was so full I thought I might explode, and there were other moments when my senses were under such intense assault that I was CERTAIN I’d explode. I was both lonely and absolutely desperate to be alone. Today was too much and not enough. It was loud and silent. It was brutal and beautiful. I was at my very best today and then, just a moment later, at my very worst…”

Our holiday was a lifetime.  

Firstly, I thought I had done a reasonably good job of planning and organizing, but it turned out my planning and organizing were still inadequate. (Story of my life?)  It felt like we wasted significant amounts of time trying to sort out parking, public transport and making decisions about what exactly we wanted to do in each city.  Some things just come with experience, and can’t be helped with even the most meticulous planning, but I wish I’d created a better awareness about where our hotels/apartments were in relation to the things we wanted to see and do.  Consider that a travel tip I guess.  

All in all the kids were fabulous. I felt really grateful and proud of them.  That’s not to say that they didn’t need to use the toilet right as we were stepping on the gondola, or have complete over-reactions to the most minor of injuries, or fret about the injustices and unfairness of who got what souvenirs.  There was whining and there was bickering and there were multiple exhibits of what is best described as “hangry” children. 

But they walked. Some days we walked as many as 10 miles around the cities we visited and the kids would let their imaginations take over and they would play Narnia (likely due to the audio-books we listened to while driving) and Pokemon (their current favorite cartoon) as we meandered through streets, parks and across bridges.  For the first few days the heat was nearly unbearable, but a little ice cream never failed to restore their enthusiasm.  They tried new foods, they asked questions, they entertained themselves and each other in the car and they slept like rocks at night.  

Even in the best of circumstances it takes great self-discipline, forgiveness and effort to not get frustrated with one’s spouse, and there were plenty of stressful incidents when Richard and I were irritated or angry.  I wish I could say we were always patient and kind, but we made it through intact and I don’t think there are any residual hard feelings.  

Traveling is hard. Traveling in countries where you can’t communicate in your native language is really hard.  I completely underestimated the difficulty of what we undertook.  It was sometimes terribly discouraging and overwhelming.  I remember one morning waking up, completely disoriented and confused about what city I was in.  All my life I had romanticized that idea.  “How exciting to wake up and not remember what city you are in!”  But when it happened to me, it felt disconcerting and exhausting.  I’ll never forget when we were in Venice, VENICE!, and as we walked out the door in the morning I thought to myself “I really don’t feel like doing this today.”  I’ve wanted to go to Italy since I was a teenager and there I was, feeling nearly incapable of enjoying it.  

But the thing that makes all those difficult things worth it, is that traveling is remarkable.  Watching and meeting people, tasting cuisine, experiencing cultures, exploring new ideas, seeing something like the Jungfrau in the Swiss Alps, or the Duomo Cathedral in Milan is just something that affects me in a way I can’t give words to. But I love it. I really, really love it.  So all the meltdowns, (mine and the kids’) all the over-priced water bottles, all the buses, trams, airports, tolls and humidity was worth it. 

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and…people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.” 
-Mark Twain

Big cities have such amazing resources.  No beach in London? Okay. We’ll just make one.   

We hadn’t been up to Olympic Park in East London so I was kind of excited to see it.  We picked a hot day and made the hour long ride on the DLR from Lewisham (the end of the line) to Stratford (the other end of the line.)  Riding a train from one end to the other end feels kind of like a right of passage in a metropolis.  I remember doing it once with my dad in Washington D.C.  

They had hauled in literally tons of sand and set up an all-out summer fair at Olympic Park.  Once again I didn’t want to bring my camera to a sandy place so these photos are all from my cell phone, which died no less than 2,359 times while we were there. (My phone is messed up. I used to be able to just restart it each time it spontaneously died, but then the button broke too.) 

The sand was soooooo soft and there was a little pool for dipping buckets and cooling off.  It got crowded pretty quickly but we had staked out a pretty good space and we stayed for five hours.  It was really fun.  The kids could play in sand for days.  

At one point Miriam had dug a little pit and filled it with water and was just sitting in it.  A little girl, probably about two, came over and was splashing in the water with Mim.  No big deal.  The little girl’s mom, and a couple other adult friends were watching her and shouting at her.  I asked what her name was, but thought I was mistaken so I asked them to spell it.  

Nottie.  

Okay.  So from their blanket a few yards away they shouted at her “Nottie! Don’t do that! Nottie! Be nice! Nottie! That’s not yours.”  

Eventually Nottie walked over and plopped her little self right on top of the sand castle I’d built with the kids, and proceeded to just smash it, turret by turret.  I am not fond of disciplining someone else’s children, especially when they are watching, and sure enough they were watching. I looked over and Nottie’s mom and her friends were watching her destroy the castle. I didn’t know what to say, I tried making eye contact with her, to which she shouted at the little girl 

“Nottie! I hope you’re being good!” 

What?!?  Cameron looked on in horror and I felt completely frozen.  I wish I had been more assertive for my kid’s benefit, but I’m not a confrontational person and I was just speechless.  I apologized to Cam and the other kids later on.  But I really don’t know how to teach my kids that they can stand up for themselves without being angry, rude or unkind when I’m clearly not capable of doing it myself.  Can you say doormat?

Aside from that tragic and infuriating anecdote, we had a really great time at the artificial beach.  Sunny and hot summer days are hard to come by in London and it was fantastic to soak one up.  

I asked the kids to look through the London City Walks and choose one they wanted to do during summer holiday and Eli chose one that went from Hamley’s on Regent Street, through Soho and into Chinatown.   It seemed like a fun walk to do with Baca and Grandpa Bird while they were in town. 

We took a train into the city, hopped on the tube and then walked up Regent’s Street to the oldest toy shop in the world. Hamley’s is unbelievably huge and is full of demonstrations, interactive toys and staff who are trained to be engaging and friendly.  There are seven floors, and I had promised the kids I’d buy them sweets on the top floor.  Gradually we made our way up and the kids were entertained all throughout. 

When I couldn’t handle the over-stimulation for another minute we bought our sweets and left the store.  There was a soccer shop Eli and Cameron really wanted to go to, where they had a jersey for every team in the Premier League, but it turned out that the shop had closed down.  But we found ourselves in Soho at lunchtime, which is never a bad thing.  

  

We made our way to Chinatown, but bellies were full and attention spans were waning so we just walked through and then stopped at a little market that sells American food.  And by American food I am referring to every processed, sugary, food-like substance you can think of that can be found in American grocery stores.  See above. 

I bought root beer for the kids and then we walked back to Charing Cross and took a relaxing train ride home.