Travelling

Why I always buckle up on the plane

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Aeroplane aisle seat

There have been a few incidences of bad turbulence in the media lately, and it got me thinking about turbulence. It’s one of those things you try not to think about when cruising at 35,000ft. Much like those weird beeps and noises that sometimes happen during take-off and landing, you curl your fingers tighter around your arm rest (or your vodka tonic) and tell yourself it’s normal. Nothing is going to happen. I mean, it’s not like we’re going to drop out of the sky.

Except sometimes you do.

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Australia with an 18-month old – part 3 – Australia

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beach australia

In the thick of it, it honestly felt like everything that could have gone wrong did. If I’d known how hard it was going to be going into it I probably wouldn’t have done it.

But it had been almost two years since I’d visited Oz. I’d had a kid in the meantime. And last winter almost killed me (or at least threw me into a deep hole of depression that a holiday to Australia probably could have fixed).

So, we went for it. We endured the flight, the jet lag, the covid, the weather, the constant moving around with a toddler, the terrible sleeping from said toddler. And then we faced getting back on the aeroplane and doing it all again.

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Australia with an 18-month old – part 2 – the flight

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airport with toddler

I’d read a lot of stories online of people who travelled with kids. And there was one general consensus. The difficult age is between 1 and 3. Before one, kids are more flexible, sleep a lot, and their bodies don’t react as much to things like jet lag and so on. After 3 they are old enough to understand what’s going on and old enough to be reasoned with (to some extent).

The bottom line was… when I looked into the question of ‘should we do a long plane trip with an 18 month old’ the answer was… DON’T.

It can’t be that bad, I thought. And in any case, we don’t have a choice – I want my friends and family to meet the little dude before he’s not so little any more.

It WAS that bad.

So, if you’re thinking about it. My advice is… DON’T. lol. But read on. Enjoy my pain.

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Australia with an 18-month old – part 1 – getting to the airport

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bad weather austria

I had to split this blog post up… because when just getting to the airport became a mission in itself, well… I guess you’ll find out if you read along.

I was nervous about the prospect of flying with an 18-month old. But how bad can it be, really? In the end it’s just a day of our lives. It will be difficult. But it won’t be terrible. Well… actually it kind of was.

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What’s your favourite spot in the aeroplane?

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aeroplane seating plan

Every traveller seems to have one. There’s not always a reason for it, but most people will pick a similar place every time they fly. Hubby and I clash because he likes to sit on the left of the plane and I prefer the right. There’s no rhyme or reason as to why we prefer these sides… it just is what it is. So what are you? A window or an aisle person? On the wing for less turbulence? Toward the back because statistically that part of the plane is more likely to remain intact upon impact? (I’d be lying if I said the thought had never crossed my mind) All I can say is that it really does seem to come down to personal preference.

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Holidaying… with a baby

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Ossiacher See

My parents recently visited for the first time since Covid hit back in 2019. So it was an emotional time already, and in addition they were meeting Sam. It was great to have them. To have some help at home. To have some Aussie in the house. And to give me a chance to flex my legs and do a few things I’d been nervous about doing on my own. We went to cafes and supermarkets and the swimming pool… and we also went away.

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When Larry met Sammy

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Going to the pool with baby

Going into pregnancy I already knew about the (allegedly) hellish fourth trimester and had made the decision that for the first three months after birth I would be making no fixed plans and having no expectations on myself or my child. So when my parents cancelled their September trip due to Covid I was half glad. Sure, it would have been great to see them and for them to meet the baby, but I wasn’t sure I wanted guests in the house in the first three months, even my parents!

No one was more surprised than me, when, five weeks after birth, I resumed my almost daily swimming regime at the pool. It was an important step for me, mentally, and physically, and although I wasn’t pushing myself to go every day, it just happened that I could, so I did.

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Some might call it a Babymoon – let’s call it our last trip to Italy

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Lignano Italy

I tend to rebel against tradition just a little. Maybe I like things easier, or maybe I just like to rebel. I didn’t want a traditional wedding. And I’m not expecting that I’ll live up to the traditional expectations of parenthood – after all – there’s more than one way to skin a… baby?

I’m so glad I live in a country that doesn’t know what a baby shower is. It’s not me. It’s ok for those who want one, but I’m glad there’s no expectation here. There will be no maternity photo-shoot, or baby-shoot for that matter – where it angelically sits in a terracotta pot with a garland of flowers on its grumpy head.

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