Lipizzaner tour — Piber

Posted on August 8, 2014 by admin

Day 2 of our vacation was all about horses. I had wanted to visit the Lipizzaner Stud at Piber since coming to Vienna, but I didn’t know exactly what to expect. The farm is in a beautiful spot with a great view, so that was a good start. We arrived, got our tickets, and followed the suggested self-guided tour, even though I was anxious to actually spend some time near the world famous Lipizzaners!

Here in Vienna, I’d already been to a performance of the Lipizzaners, been to see the babies and their moms when they grazed in the Burggarten last summer, and, most recently, taken the “behind the scenes” stable tour. I was excited to see this last remaining part — the brood mares, the stallions, the young horses and the foals.

The tour was mildly interesting for the kids, but otherwise not really noteworthy. But getting to visit the horses was FANTASTIC. Unlike in Vienna, where there are many rules and physical barriers designed to keep visitors at a distance from the horses, there’s nothing like that at Piber. We were allowed to wander through the stables at our leisure, visiting, photographing, and even patting the horses. Liam decided that every single horse we met was named “Willow”. (I have no idea where he got that.) It was absolutely worth the trip. (Though the boys liked meeting the horses, their favorite parts of the day were the ice cream and the playground.)

After spending several hours at the stud farm, and seeing all there was to see, we waffled on whether to spend the extra time and money on the other available tour — a visit to the mountain pastures where the young stallions (ages 1-3) are turned out to frolic and roam for the summer. It was a wet and chilly day, and the temperature was only about 6 degrees Celsius at the mountain pasture, which was also a half an hour drive from the main farm. But, I figured, if not now, when? So, we bought our tickets and trekked up to the meeting spot on the mountain.

We ran into a bit of trouble, though. First, the signs were a bit confusing and just enough different from what we were told to expect that we nearly missed the spot entirely. Second, there was no good place to park, which was a little confusing. The directions lead to a gravel driveway on a tiny mountain road, far from anything, and the driveway has a chain and barbed wire across it. We left the car on a narrow gravel strip along the road. (t was only big enough for one car, so I have to wonder what they do when more than one family signs up for the tour!) We weren’t really sure we were in the right place … and of course there was no cell signal, so we couldn’t call and ask. It was our best bet, though, so we waited at the “meeting point”, as it was called in our printed directions.

I’m waiting by the sign

We arrived about 10 minutes before the tour was supposed to start. Our directions had brought us to this spot, and they had also mentioned that after arriving at the meeting point, we were still a 10 minute walk from the mountain pastures. So, we waited. And we waited. And waited. In the cold and the wind, on the side of the mountain, with 2 tired kids. I eventually sent Dan and the boys back to wait in the car. After half an hour, we had to decide — give up, or assume that our directions were wrong and hike on up the driveway for 10 minutes to see if we could find anyone.

I was determined, and figured we were already invested. We’d waited half an hour in the cold, and we’d paid for our tickets. The main office was already closed for the day, and we were leaving town the next morning. So, it was continue on, or give the money and time up for lost. So, we walked past the uninviting barbed wired gate and started to climb up the driveway, uncertain as to whether we were even in the right place.

We walked for about 10-15 minutes, very much steeply uphill. We found a summer camp, and then, a large barn. We were met by a barking dog, and saw a few people from a distance, but nothing that looked too promising. Not easily thwarted, we asked (in our sub-par German), and discovered that we were, unbelievably, actually in the right place.

The main draw of the “mountain pastures” tour is to be able to watch the young horses running and playing in relative freedom in the huge mountain pastures. By the time we arrived, they had all been brought in to a large barn for the night. So, we pretty much missed the main reason to have gone, and instead, for our ticket price, we got to stand in the cold for half an hour, hike up a cold mountain and NOT see the horses in the mountain pastures. BUT . . . we did get to visit with the horses for a bit. The kids were allowed to climb up on the gate and pat the horses that happily came over for some love and attention. It wasn’t at all the moment I expected it to be, but seeing the boys pat and talk with these beautiful horses, some of whom will be performing around the world in a few years, was pretty special. (B in particular was truly captivated. The horses’ caretaker even commented that B had the “spirit” of horses in him.)

After a little while, we trekked back down the mountain and managed a much needed and very hectic 6 minute grocery shopping trip (we got there just before closing) — extra impressive in an unfamiliar store. What a day!

It was great to visit with the horses at Piber. It was pretty cool to get to spend some time with them up on the mountain, too, though not exactly what we signed up for. But we’ll certainly never forget it.

For anyone who reads this who is thinking about going — I would recommend the whole thing — the stable tour and the mountain tour. Just know that the English directions are wrong. The place that you’re told to “meet” is not a meeting point, just the end of the driveway you’re meant to walk up. Don’t wait — no one is coming. Just walk on up and see the horses. Take the driveway all the way to the end — past where it looks like you’re supposed to — and you’ll get there.

The directions we were given . . .

Maria Lankowitz

Posted on August 7, 2014 by admin

We got back from our summer vacation nearly 4 weeks ago. Since then, we’ve had a family-wide bout of miserable stomach illness and 3 of the 4 of us have had birthdays. We’ve been busy. But here I am, less than a month later, writing my first post about our trip. Based on my track record (I still have posts to write about last year’s summer vacation — more from that trip soon), this is pretty great.

So, it was the last Sunday in June, we had just had B’s birthday party the day before and we were ready to embark on our 2 week Austrian vacation. The plan was to see some parts of Austria that we hadn’t yet seen, and to visit some of our favorites again. We opted to take this trip by car. Our first stop was the tiny town of Maria Lankowitz in Styria (Steiermark).

The main purpose of going to that particular piece of Austria was to visit the Lipizzaner stud farm in Piber, the neighboring town (get it . . . NEIGHboring???). But, on the way, we got to drive into the beginnings of the southern Austrian mountains, which was just lovely. My kids, who love car trips (since we don’t have a car and only ride in cars when we’re traveling) spent the first bit of the nearly 3 hour trip happily looking out of the windows. But after about an hour, they resorted to frequently asking their own adaptation of every kid’s favorite road trip question (in our case, they went with “When will we be there?” instead of “Are we there yet?”, which at least allowed our answers to change as we got closer and closer). We did finally arrive in the cute but VERY tiny town of Maria Lankowitz.

We got settled in to our apartment and went for a stroll around the town . . . which took about 10 minutes (20, if you count the run the boys took through a field). Then, we went to find a place for dinner. We were lucky enough to find a great place, with seating outdoors so we could enjoy the lovely evening and the scenery of the cute town. The absolute best part for the boys was that there was a little plastic picnic table just for kids, and they decided they were going to eat their meal there (it didn’t last though the whole meal — it was a nice idea, but they needed help cutting their schnitzel). I tried a “radler” for the first time (a mix of beer and soda — the type of soda varies by region) which is a brilliant invention, and we all had a nice meal and finished up our great evening by walking back to the apartment and listening to the cowbells from the cows grazing on the mountainside. Our Austrian road trip had begun!

And . . . we’re back!

Posted on July 14, 2014 by admin

We had a great vacation. We saw some new (to us) places in Austria, had some amazing experiences (including one of the most fun things I’ve ever done — sommerrodelbahn) and actually got a chance to relax and recharge as a family, for maybe the first time. (We’ve vacationed before, but I don’t think we’ve ever really achieved “relaxation” before as a family.) It was truly a fantastic trip, and I’m going to write all about it, very, very soon (not like last year’s vacation, which I’m still working on writing about . . . and which I will also get back to soon).

But, for today, we’re back, we’re on a new schedule, and I suddenly feel like I don’t know how to be a stay-at-home parent anymore.

In retrospect, planning a pediatrician appointment for today, our first day “back to normal” (and it’s a new normal) was not the wisest plan. But, we were gone the last two weeks, our pediatrician leaves on Friday for her vacation, and this is one of those things that we wanted to get done during the summer, so here we are. (We also have a dentist appointment on Thursday, and at least 3 other doctor’s appointments to try to get in this summer.) Besides the pediatrician appointment, though, I just feel like I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m home, with the kids, just me & them all day. And though I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for almost 6 years now, I suddenly feel like this is all very new again. How does this all work? How do I get things done? How do I shower? How do I go out for a run? How do I get the groceries? How do I manage both boys safely at the playground? How do I fold the laundry, go to the bathroom, or prepare a meal without someone getting hurt? I used to do this all the time — why don’t I remember how to make this happen???

But, of course, the challenge is that it’s not the same as it’s ever been before. Liam was never in school before this year, so this is the first time I’ve had him at home full time since he’s gotten used to that schedule. B isn’t napping anymore, so this is the first time I’ve tried to get Liam down for a nap while B is doing other things. Both boys are bigger and more energetic. They both have more need to expend their extra energy and more ability to injure each other while they’re playing. While they’re old enough to reason with (more or less) they’re also old enough to require a bit more substantive mental stimulation. And, for the first time, I’d gotten used to having some time on my own every day, so the loss of it is uncomfortable for me.

It’s fine, though. We’ll figure it out — we always have before. And I know that I’m not alone in this feeling. Parents everywhere are suddenly faced with the same dilemma — “Why is my house suddenly overrun by these short, demanding people, and what am I supposed to do with them?!?”

Closing the loop

Posted on June 12, 2014 by admin

I’m picking up again on the missing pieces of last year’s summer vacation (my goal is to finish these stories before this year’s summer vacation … which is in 2 1/2 weeks, so I wouldn’t count on it). The next major part of our trip was our time in Ireland (including one of my favorite days ever in my life so far), but there are two little pieces of the trip in England that I’ve missed, so I’ll share them here. (Looking back, I realize that there are actually LOTS of little pieces that I missed — the day we spent in England getting lost on purpose, dipping our feet in a lake and wandering through an unfenced field of free range sheep; the sheer entertainment of literally not being able to understand anything a native Glasgowian said at full speed; the pleasant afternoon we spent wandering around Fort William in Scotland and shopping for Scottish shortbread. I’m sure there are more. I’m a little horrified at how many little moments never made it to the blog, and which now probably won’t because I’m already struggling to catch up on this trip . . . 10 months after we took it. I think I’m going to have to rethink this idea of not blogging on vacation.)

I don’t know how I missed writing about these particular moments. (Chronologically, this piece goes between here and here, more or less.) Our first time in the Lake District, we had an unfortunately early end to a drive we were taking when we got a flat tire. We’d been in the process of driving a long loop through parts of the less crowded north and west of the Lake District (the route came from Rick Steves’ UK guidebook). I really wanted to continue and finish the tour, since we’d loved the first part (pre-flat) so much. The landscape was just beautiful, and we’d had great fun making an impromptu stop along a lake. So on this second trip, we bravely set off again. This time, instead of stopping for a wade in a lake, we stopped for a quick hike at the top of the Newlands Pass. We worked our way up the narrow track until it became too muddy and slippery, and we had to turn back. The boys were impressively enthusiastic about it, though — I think they would have climbed to the top of the waterfall if we’d let them! We continued our drive around the loop, passing (with crossed fingers) the scene of our flat tire last time, and found ourselves a little place to stop for lunch, with a yard full of toys for the kids. It was one of the few times I can ever think of that we’ve been able to sit outside in the shade and enjoy a meal while the kids played mostly independently. The boys stopped by every so often for a quick bite of a sandwich, and then were off again to play some more.

After lunch, we diverted from the path to try and find a river swimming/wading/splashing spot recommended by our innkeepers. We did find it, eventually, after driving down a muddy and rutted path that may not have been intended for cars and which was well marked with “no trespassing” (the problem was that once we started down, there was nothing to do but continue), and at whose end Benjamin refused to leave the car (Liam and Dan did enjoy a bit of splashing time, though). After that, though, we were all very worn out, so rather than finish the loop, we returned by the direct route to the inn for a nap, some tea, and a walk to feed the resident donkeys (which ended in a sprint home to beat the impending rain storm).

If at all possible, though, I really wanted to finish the loop, because we’d so enjoyed all the pieces we’d explored so far. But, we were fast running out of time in England. On our last full day in England before we drove north to Scotland, it was rainy and chilly and kind of dreary. In the morning, we’d been to the Castlerigg Stone Circle (so, chronologically, this bit should go between here and here). But it was still early in the day and we wanted to explore a bit more. So, we drove out and again picked up the loop roughly where we had left off, and continued our exploration. We took a side trip up the “hill” (they have impressive hills in this part of the world) away from the lake. It was a steep and narrow journey which first brought us to a tiny stone bridge over a roaring creek and then, suddenly, around a corner to an amazing view of the lake (Derwent Water) below. That vista alone was well worth the journey.

We continued on to the surprisingly remote and tiny town of Watendlath, high up in the hills, but with a lake of its own. After our journey up into the hills and then back down to the lakeside, we did, finally, finish the loop we’d been working on over two summers. We finally finished the whole “hour-long” drive. It only took us a year.

The Wild, Hairy Haggises and the Hogwarts Express

Posted on May 9, 2014 by admin

And now another installment in my much overdue recounting of our vacation to the UK last summer . . .

Our first day through Scotland last August was a little insane. We took a 2-3 hour drive and made it into an 8 hour drive. We drove through or stopped by at least a half dozen places I’d like to go back and see again. But we were only just beginning.

My main reason for wanting to come to that particular piece of Scotland, both on this trip and on our previous one (where it didn’t work out) was Harry Potter. Or, more specifically, the Hogwarts Express. Harry’s journey to Hogwarts in the movies was mostly filmed along an actual train line in western Scotland. It’s possible to actually ride a steam train along the route they used for filming, but we knew we’d want to explore along the way, so we drove the (theoretical) hour each way. (Of course, it took us much longer, and we thoroughly enjoyed it!)

We started our day with a trip to the grocery store to pick out a picnic lunch. (Wherever in the world we are, grocery shopping is always an adventure.) Once we had managed that, we got on our way. From the very beginning of the journey, we’d catch snips of views and vistas that were familiar from the movies, but a lot of the scenery was obscured by trees. No worries, it was still beautiful. Our first real stop along the way was one of the most iconic images from the movies — the Glenfinnan Viaduct. It was pretty cool to stop and see it, and a nice piece of our ongoing collection of visits to Harry Potter places.

We walked around a bit, and the boys really wanted to cross the road to check out the loch across the way. While Dan and the kids began their explorations, I explored the gift shop. I’d been looking for something small, kid-friendly and iconic to get them as souvenirs, and I found exactly what I was looking for: the “Wild, Hairy Haggis“.

Most people have heard of the traditional Scottish dish called haggis (which Dan tried on this trip and which I tasted … REALLY not my thing) but the Haggis creature is not as well known (mostly because it’s entirely made up). They are sweet little stuffed animals with a cute story, so I got one for each of the boys. It was love at first sight, and our new Haggises were excellent companions for the rest of our trip, immediately befriending Ignis, who was also journeying with us. (Dragons feel very much at home in Scotland, as it turns out.)

I am so glad that the boys were dying to play at the loch, because it would up being not only one of the most beautiful spots we visited in all of Scotland (which is truly saying something) but also another staple from the Harry Potter movies — this lake, Loch Shiel, across from Glenfinnan Viaduct, is known as the Black Lake at the foot of Hogwarts Castle in the movies. And it was absolutely stunning. (I love Scotland.)

As we trekked on, we again found many places worth stopping for a look. (Did I mention that I love Scotland?) And we caught many views of the train line we were following. The further north we got, the more rugged, and the more coastal, things became. We eventually started looking for a place to picnic, and found a beach on a river that looked public and promising. We ate our sandwiches and played in the sand. B bravely waded into the frigid (even in August) water. We watched people play with their dogs and saw a big group of kayakers arrive along the beach. We got a bit chilled and very sandy, but it was a great picnic.

We continued on to our “destination” (pretty much as far as you can go in that direction without catching the ferry to the Isle of Skye, which, incidentally, I wish we’d done) — Mallaig, a tiny fishing town, and the farthest north I’ve ever been in my life. We stopped for an ice cream and then turned around to repeat the beautiful journey back in the other direction. It was another amazing, beautiful day in a stunningly gorgeous place. We chose this place to see where the Hogwarts Express made its trip, but that had almost nothing to do with how much we loved our time there.

Never to be seen again

Posted on April 30, 2014 by admin

A few weeks ago, I said I was going to spend a day each week catching up on old things I meant to write but never did. I haven’t. But today I shall! I have a ton of notes and memories jotted down from our summer trip to the UK last year. Already, some of the details are starting to fade, which makes writing about it daunting … but I also know that my memory is only going to get worse as time goes on, so I’d better get on with it!

When last I wrote about our trip to England, I was explaining about how welcome we all feel when we visit our favorite place in the Lake District. It’s beautiful and charming with gracious hosts, fantastic food and stunning views. Plus, it’s in at least one of Beatrix Potter’s stories, so it’s a definite win across the board. (Go there and stay. Eat scones. You’re welcome.)

After a few days, though, our lovely time in the Lake District was at and end. We took a short journey up to the unintelligible city of Glasgow (seriously, I had no idea what anyone was saying — I do better in Austria). Glasgow was just an overnight stop on our way further into Scotland, though.

On our last trip, the Scotland piece of our journey got seriously truncated because first B, and then Liam, got sick. So last time, instead of venturing up into the Highlands, we stopped at Lockerbie (which I think may actually be the first exit off the highway upon entering Scotland) and, from there only got as far as Edinburgh, once we were all (mostly) feeling better. This time, I was absolutely set on seeing more of Scotland … and I was in no way disappointed.

Our plan for that first day was to journey from Glasgow up to Fort William in the Western Highlands. It SHOULD have been a 2-3 hour drive plus stops for lunch, leg stretching and appreciating the scenery. It took us over 8. Scotland is amazing and beautiful and we could not resist stopping constantly and taking tons of “optional” detours.

We played at a playground next to Loch Lomond. We stopped and got suddenly and thoroughly drenched at the “Rest and Be Thankful” pass (we had hot chocolate there, too). We drove alongside the ocean to Inveraray where we had lunch and played on the slippery shore of the sea (take a look at a map … it was NOT at all “on the way”). We spent 10 miles driving through beautiful and rugged Scottish countryside along a raging whitewater river on a single lane gravel road. (The GPS sent us that way, and every time we had to pass another car I was sure we were about to end up IN the raging river. I was also absolutely sure we were going to end up as one of those apocryphal stories about “the dumb and fatal things people do because their SatNav says to”. But we didn’t and it was beautiful. I’m glad Dan made the decision to continue on that way . . . against my objections. It sure beat the motorway!) We took an essential potty break (a new, but important part of travel for us — on our last road trip, it was just the adults using the bathrooms, so there were many fewer bathroom stops) at the Glencoe Mountain Resort, which feels like it actually might be on another planet, at the top of the world, or perhaps straight from the Hobbit.

Scotland — you are beautiful. The parts of Scotland that we saw (and this was all just our first day!) were stunning, vast, and wildly beautiful. I don’t know exactly what I expected Scotland to be like, but it wasn’t whatever I expected. It’s really … big … open … mountainous … and it’s also mostly by the sea. It is not just like Ireland, nor like England. It is wonderful in its own right.

And that is why it took us almost 4 times as long as it was supposed to — because we fell in love and could not tear ourselves away. August 3, 2013 was the day I fell in love with Scotland. It was worth every single minute of that 8 hour “2 hour drive”, and I would do it all again, anytime. (Though maybe not in the winter, because those roads were treacherous enough in summer!)

Plan B

Posted on April 9, 2014 by admin

We had a plan for the last weekend of March. The kids had Friday off for a teacher work day, so Dan planned to take off of work and we were finally going to go to Prague for the weekend — a destination which has been on our list since we moved to Vienna.

When planning travel, especially with kids, it’s so important to have a “plan B” in mind, because things don’t always work out as planned. In this case, Liam spent almost an entire week sick with an on again/off again fever leading up to our intended trip, and a trip to Prague just wasn’t going to be the right choice for us. So, at the last minute, we decided not to go.

It was hard to give up the plan that we were all so excited about, but we made the right choice. By Monday, Liam was well again, but the next day, B got sick and then I followed him. In short, we are just now coming off of 2+ weeks with at least one of us sick, and our trip to Prague was intended to be right in the middle of that.

It’s a bummer, because we were really looking forward to finally seeing Prague, and we had found a great (and not too expensive) place to stay (which B helped me pick out, and he was SO excited to go). But it’s ok — Prague has been there for a long time, and it isn’t going anywhere. We’ll just have to wait a bit longer for our chance to see it.

The shortest day ever

Posted on March 21, 2014 by admin

I have this habit of leaving off pieces of the adventures we take when I recount the stories. Ever since I stopped writing the blog WHILE I was traveling (to allow it to feel like more of a vacation) I’ve found that I get back, start to write about it, and then life happens and I get caught up writing about something new that is happening at that moment, which means that I often don’t quite finish telling the stories of our travels.

I want to get caught up, so I’m going to plan to spend at least a day each week catching up on old stories that have yet to be told.

The snowstorm that came at the end of our trip home to the US for Christmas was a ton of fun for the kids (and I’m extra glad they got to experience it since we barely got any snow this year in Vienna). But the other result was that our return flight ended up significantly delayed, which made for kind of a crazy day all around.

I have to give Air France a ton of credit for how well they kept us informed about the developments with our flight. I woke up the morning of our departure with both a text and an email waiting for me about the initial rescheduling of our flight. Because we had nearly 12 hours notice, we were able to relax, enjoy an extra few hours with family and let the kids play in the snow a bit more. They also seamlessly took care of rearranging our connection each of the several times the flight was pushed back a little later, which let us spend our last day packing and enjoying instead of stressing (overly much) about how we were going to get home.

Late that night, we finally headed to the airport (with much gratitude and sad goodbyes to so much of our family who drove us over there) to wait for a while longer in an effectively closed airport. When we’d first planned the flight, a 7 pm departure seemed perfect. Take off, have dinner, and then everyone sleeps (in theory). My boys generally do well on overnight flights, so I was more worried about the flight over than I was about the flight back.

But with the departure moved back to just after 2 am, I didn’t know what to expect. Waiting at the gate was hard. We put the boys in their pajamas (because, realistically, it was after midnight, and sleep was likely). Liam fell asleep. B tried to sleep on the floor (unsuccessfully) after seeing several other people try it. He eventually gave up and wandered over to watch a video over the shoulder of a little French girl who then invited him to come and share her seat. (That was one of my favorite moments of the journey. I was really proud to see B be brave enough to make a friend — and extra points because they did not share a common language. I count this confidence as one of the many good things that have come of this adventure.)

We finally got on the plane and got underway. The airline dutifully served dinner (at about 3 am) and then got us all ready for “nighttime” just as the first rays of the sun were becoming visible on the horizon (they requested that everyone keep their window shades down so that everyone could sleep if they chose to). They turned the lights on and served breakfast at about noon (that’s CET — it was then about 6 pm where we had departed, Eastern time). By the time we landed, it was evening in Paris, the middle of the night in Maryland, and the kids, who had slept in short bursts throughout the flight, were confused and alarmed that the sun was setting just after breakfast. (“Why is the sun setting ALREADY?!? That was the shortest day ever!” We effectively spent 30+ hours in the dark, which created some of the worst jet lag I’ve ever experienced.)

We were exhausted, we were disoriented, we missed the rest of our family already, but we were home (again).

The end of the weekend

Posted on January 28, 2014 by admin

Even though I had an absolutely amazing weekend exploring London and generally being a geeky fangirl, I was excited enough to get home to my guys to not mind getting up at 4 a.m. (Not too much, anyway).

I had a great time on the girls’ weekend. I was shocked at how long it took me to unwind, to turn off the ultra-aware, persistently vigilant Mommy brain and remember how to just relax and enjoy myself. I think this time away was overdue. I think it’s something I could use to do more often than once every 5 years.

And we couldn’t have picked a better spot for it. I love London. I would live there. I don’t feel that way about very many places, but I would absolutely live there (and probably spend way too much going to the “theatre” at every opportunity).

The morning of my departure, it was far too early for me to contemplate things like trains, so I opted for the vastly easier (but much more expensive) option of a cab. I had a nice chat with the driver on our way out to Heathrow — he’s the dad to one daughter, now all grown up, and insisted that mom having a weekend away from dad and the kids truly is good for everyone.

Heathrow is intense, even at 5 in the morning. Coming up to the airport, I was surprised to already see the line of plane lights in the sky, stretching off into the distance. (What time do those flights depart wherever they’re coming from?!?) I was also please to see how efficient Heathrow was — I was able to check myself in, print my own luggage tags and easily make my way to the gate (where, as a slightly odd security measure, I had to show my passport again to enter the gate area) to wait for my flight home.

I had a pleasant and comfortable flight home (British Airways is as good as Air France was on our recent trip home) and I spent part of the time contemplating people.

I think people are great. I love how we help each other. How we’re basically kind. The cabbie, the check-in people, the other assorted staff at the airport. No one has to be nice to each other, but most people generally are. I love how we build and invent things, like air planes, like London. I love how creative human beings are — theater, movies, storytelling. It’s amazing what we do and who we are. I love people.

And, on that note, it was time to return home to the people I love very most of all.

Girls’ weekend begins . . .

Posted on January 23, 2014 by admin

I actually thought I might vomit before I could leave the house last Friday. Part of it was anxiety about the trip — I tend to worry much more than is called for over missing buses, planes and trains. Part of it was being uncomfortable with traveling alone — as much as I’m a well-seasoned European traveller (this would be my third time to London), I’ve only travelled a very little bit on my own. But most of it was worry, stress and sadness at the thought of leaving my boys for just over 65 hours. I’m just not used to it.

It was my first trip away from Liam, and my first trip away from anyone since we’ve been in Austria. I’m actually a little grateful for my over-anxiousness about missing my flight. Without it, I might not have overcome the paralysis I was feeling about actually going. Eventually, my stress over missing my flight overwhelmed my stress about leaving the kids, so I was able to actually go.

Within the first half hour I was away (I hadn’t even caught the bus to the airport yet) I was stunned. I had so much downtime. What was I supposed to do with myself? For most of the trip to the airport, I just sat and looked out of the window. I have lost all of my habits for idle time — most of the time I’m with the kids or attending to something pressing, and in the few moments I actually have “free”, there’s always at least SOMETHING that needs my attention (outlining my next blog post, sending cute pictures of the kids to my family, making a grocery list, planning our next outing). I had nothing that I had to do. No errands to run, nothing that needed my attention, no endless questions to answer, no one to keep entertained, no one to shush or calm down or keep safe. It was really weird. I had no one to talk to and lots of time on my own. I truly did not know what to do with myself (and I’d been out of the house for less than an hour).

I adjusted. It took a while to even think of reading, watching a movie on my phone, or listening to music. Once I was able to get used to actually being able to focus on something for leisure, it was really pleasant (but still, there was no place I would rather have been right at that moment than home getting ready for movie night with my family). The flight was great, and eventually I stopped jumping to attention every time a child on the plane would cry. It actually became pretty pleasant to snap out of my focus on my book only to remember that my kids were at home and I could go right back to reading — a little like waking up before the alarm in the morning and getting to enjoy snuggling back into bed for a while.

On my own, I had a lot more time for random thought, too. Standing in the forever-long “all other passports” UK Border line, I contemplated what passport control must be like for moderately famous people. I imagine they have to wait in the same line as everyone else (unless they’re SUPER famous and this disruptive to the process, then maybe there’s some other provision), which must be awful. I figure they’d get bothered, asked for autographs or whatever, but there would be nothing they could do to get away! That must be even worse than just waiting through the line as a regular person, which isn’t any fun, either. (This is what happens to my mind when I don’t have kids to entertain, apparently.) Also, I spent a little time contemplating how/why people can’t tell where I’m from. I had a British person think I was British (after talking to me?!?) on the plane and a woman in the Customs line came up and spoke to me in an impressive stream of Russian — then, after seeing my confusion, apologized in fluent English, saying she thought I was Russian, too.

It was odd to be on my own — not just being an off-duty mom, but being completely solo on my journey. It was strange to not have anyone to coordinate with. When my train from the airport was delayed by an hour and a half, I didn’t have anyone to hash out an alternate plan with, nor to pass the time with. And when I finally made it to Victoria Station after midnight, there was no one with whom to debate the various merits of taking a cab or the subway, so I got to decide on my own. (After midnight, raining, with luggage and not 100% sure where I was going — I opted for a cab, and I think it was the best £10 I spent the whole trip.)

I made it, all on my own, from Vienna to London. I managed to remember how to read a book on a plane, hail a cab and watch TV in a hotel room (that wasn’t a cartoon). The trip was going great already, and the really fun stuff hadn’t even started yet!

A Mommy Abroad

Our big adventure, as a family of three.

Tag Archives: travel