Category Archives: Travel

I Hate Flying (Shh, don’t tell)

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I know I’m usually all “ooh, travel with a baby is so fun, and so worth it, and aren’t I so awesome for taking my daughter all over the world without totally losing my mind” but I can’t hide it any longer: I don’t always enjoy travel, and I don’t love every part of it.

In fact, I hate, hate, flying.

We just returned from a few days in Shanghai and nearby Hangzhou, famous for its (over-rated but still pretty) West Lake. Everything went totally smoothly, Charlotte was an angel, and we had a great time. But still, the flying totally sucked.

What is it exactly about flying that I so deeply loathe? Well, since you asked…

I Hate Flying Because:

1. I can’t stand the ‘hurry up and wait’ mentality: hurry to the airport, wait in line forever to check in. Hurry through security and customs, wait forever to board. Hurry to board, wait forever for take-off. Hurry to get off, wait forever for luggage.

2. Airplane bathrooms. Need I say more? Now, imagine it with a squirmy toddler who likes to touch everything, and who thinks it’s fun to visit the airplane bathroom every 20 minutes.

3. Airplane food used to be good, ok maybe not actually good but certainly edible. Then airlines got cheap. Now, if food is offered at all, it’s pretty nasty. The dinner selection on last night’s flight: pork with rice, or pork with noodles. Neither were edible. And that whole buy-on-board concept drives me crazy. Why can’t they just charge me an extra $10 for my ticket, and then give me a nice “free” sandwich? It would just be so much more pleasant.

4. My luggage usually comes last. Pretty much the only time that it doesn’t come last is when it doesn’t come at all. Which is not fun when you have a 30 lb kid sleeping in your arms and you desperately need the damn stroller to make an appearance before your arms fall off.

5. Customs people are mean. When I studied in the US, the US customs guards would not let me through without making me cry first. I resisted at first, which resulted in missed flights (which resulted in lost luggage), but quickly learned to turn on the waterworks as soon as I handed over my passport. I’m pretty sure they were also mean in Russia, but luckily I couldn’t understand what they were yelling at me about.

Flying amnesia is so not fair. Whenever I fly, I always grumble “what was I thinking? I’m never ever flying again.” This usually lasts a few days post-flight, but then I slowly start thinking about somewhere else I want to go, and after a couple of weeks I’m scouring flight deals, brushing off long layovers and super-late arrivals, until it’s time to go to the airport and once again I remember, “oh yeah, I hate this. What was I thinking?”

I know once I get a good night’s sleep and stop smelling like airplane I’ll be back to my pretentious travel-mom-extraordinaire self again. And in fact, after this rant I must say I do feel a bit better :)

What do you hate about flying? Or, more importantly, is there anything you like about flying?

Japan (finally!)

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I know, I know, we’ve been back from Japan for over a month now and I have yet to post photos, or really much at all. What can I say, there’s a lot going on these days.

So we spent 5 days in Japan over the September long weekend. J. has family there, so we mainly stayed in Kobe (and mainly on Rokko Island, possibly the most child-friendly place on earth), but also spent some time in Kyoto. And of course we loved it: fresh air, polite people, high speed and efficient trains, and of course lots and lots of sushi.

Charlotte cooling off in the Rokko Island canals, contemplating ordering Kobe beef for lunch

Rokko Island, Kobe

The view of Kobe from the Rokko Mountain gondola

Kyoto

Spotted in Kyoto: a real, live geisha!

Charlotte has developed a knack for sleeping through the best sites

Kyoto

Kyoto

Sign in the subway station: huh? Why would you use two bicycles? And how would that get other people into trouble?


Travel sans Mama

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Last night over dinner, J. proposed a crazy idea: he wants to take Charlotte on a 7-day cruise next week. Just the two of them.

J. has been talking about travelling just him and Charlotte for a long time. They both have the time to do it, while I’m stuck dutifully at work. Charlotte’s poor lungs need a break from the nasty Beijing pollution. And it gives the two of them some good quality time together.

I was totally supportive of this idea, when it was just an idea. But now that an actual trip is on the table… we’ll I’m kind of freaked out.

Seven days is a long time to be away. I’m not concerned about missing J., and Charlotte would have such a blast on a cruise ship (she loves boats) that she probably wouldn’t even notice I wasn’t there. No, what worries me is me: I don’t know if I can handle seven days away from my baby girl. I’ve never spent so much time away from her- there was the five-day trip I took in the spring, but I was distracted by my awesomely beautiful surroundings. Seven days is a really long time.

I’ve also been worried about J., can he really handle single-parenting, outside of the normal routine, for an entire week?

Last night, I grilled him:

“What do you need to bring with you when you go out and about?”

“What do you do when Charlotte needs to pee and there’s not a toilet in sight?”

“Under what circumstances is it acceptable to not bring the stroller?”

And, for the final exam: “What if Charlotte gets sea-sick the first night on the boat, and you both wake up in a pool of her chunky vomit?”

I guess I need to give J. more credit, because he passed my little test with flying colours.

Relieved in knowing that the two of them would probably survive a week without me, I started thinking about what I would do with seven days to myself. At first, the idea of so much alone time made me panicky, but then ideas started to flow: a visit to the mall, finally finish my book, try the gym again, perhaps a visit to the spa, maybe even a daytrip to the Great Wall or a cooking class… And I suddenly found myself wondering how I would fit it all in to just seven days.

I still feel really uncomfortable with the idea of going so long without Charlotte, but I know her and J. will have a great time, and I will probably also enjoy myself. So I think I may grant permission…

What do you think? Can Dads survive travel without mom? Can Moms survive seven days away from their offspring? Should I give J. the go-ahead, and if so are you prepared to deal with “I miss my baby” blog whining?