<![CDATA[Travels With A Toddler

<![CDATA[Travels With A Toddler - Blog]]>Tue, 17 Mar 2026 08:51:09 +0000Weebly<![CDATA[Camping it up in Albania's Northern Riviera]]>Thu, 10 Aug 2017 12:43:48 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/albaniacamping

Northern Drymades Beach, Albania

So we may be sitting in a rainy semi in Cheshire but in our hearts and minds we are still on our world adventure. Luckily for me, I am so far behind in my posts that I can whishk (sic) myself back to sunnier days and keep blogging, keeping that dream alive.

As far as our European leg was concerned, Albania was our final frontier: a little bit unknown, a little bit underdeveloped, a little bit dangerous? Perhaps? At least, that’s what we were being led to believe listening to the attitudes of those living in the neighbouring countries.

We've seen it often before: the immediate neighbours hold significant fear about the country next door. In Ecuador, we were warned we'd be robbed and taken hostage if we crossed the border to Colombia (neither happened of course). In Costa Rica, we were warned about carjackings in Nicaragua (again no such thing happened and in fact we ended feeling much safer in Nicaragua than we had in some areas in Costa Rica). In Thailand we were warned about scams and thieves in Cambodia but only found warmth and kindness. Thankfully, we rarely heed warnings. Even more thankfully, we didn't find the gun-toting, mafia-filled Albania. Instead we found a land of beauty, filled with humble people who were immensely friendly.

The good vibes began at the border crossing from Montenegro. We were ready to be stung for car insurance (even the Green card didn’t cover Albania), and for not having an international license both of which were necessary to drive here according to t’internet. Instead we sailed through quickly and without paying a cent. Yes, the roadside was packed with car insurance brokers huddled in makeshift portacabins with handwritten signs but nobody demanded we take insurance and nobody requested to see insurance so we drove on.

Admittedly, three weeks down the line after experiencing the roads and the other road users and a particularly aggressive concrete bollard, we would have been wise to stop and get some, but that's the beauty of hindsight.

Bewildered but not lost (for a change) the kids in Durres, Albania

The initial drive to the town of Durres revealed three truths to us about this enigma of a country: the residents love a Mercedes Benz more than Janis Joplin; anyone and everyone can open up a petrol station (and they have done); and the road system is a complete mystery to Googlemaps.

Durres, despite its uninspiring reputation, was surprisingly picturesque. The old fort and the streets which surround it are filled with pleasant shops, cafes and of course very, very friendly locals. The first shop we went in, our kids were given handfuls of sweets and an abundance of smiles. The owners of the accommodation we stayed in were so friendly they even waved us off with smiles as we left without paying (accidently, of course and we did find a way to get the money to them a week later once we’d realised our error)

After that quick overnight stop it was back on the road and over the terrifying Llogara Pass to the beachside camping at Drymades. For some unfathomable reason, I found myself at the steering wheel for this part of the journey and the fact I didn’t drive again in Albania may tell you something of how I felt about that. Maybe it was the thousand metre drops off the hair pin bends without barriers, or possibly the blind overtaking maneuvers by the Mercedes on the bends!

Drymades, viewed from the dangerous pass above, was a slim slither of silver wedged against the azure adriatic, complete with perfect fingers of jade stretching towards the shore to beckon you into the deep. It was truly breathtaking or maybe that was me holding my breath in my sheer terror of the road.

Safely down and breath again.

Stopping to take a breath on the Llogara Pass

We camped at the Sea Turtle where the tents are jammed right next to each other in military lines but the proximity of the the gorgeous Drymades beach and the welcoming staff at the bar made up for the unsightly troops of tents. Luckily, we got to set up our own more spacious camp a little away from the field lines with our friends from home (Al, Claire and the younguns Beck, Caulder and Pearl). It was the perfect basecamp from which to thoroughly explore the northern riviera.

We visited a different beach each day and there were some absolute beauties. Dhermi, Drymades and Jala were fairly un busy, almost sandy and came complete with all the sun-loungers, pedalos and kayaks you could ever wish for, but there were a few nicer beaches nearby. The northern stretch of Drymades, accessed through the rock archway by the Summer Dream Hotel, was a little gem, full of caves, nooks and crannies which the kids loved climbing over and which the grown-ups loved shading inside. But the best in our opinion was definitely Gjipe. The twenty minute walk in was well worth it for the quiet, peaceful beauty of this small but perfectly formed beach. You can even camp here too (if you can carry your gear down!)

The twenty minute hike in was worth it for Gjipe beach

Much as we loved the beaches around this stretch, we knew we were pushed for time and there were other places we wanted to explore so we decamped on day 5 and headed south via one last beach stop at Himara (also nice) to the South and inland Gjirokaster.

]]><![CDATA[Stari Bar: Montenegro]]>Sat, 22 Jul 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/stari-bar-montenegro

The Natural Swimming Hole at MyOliveGarden camp

After escaping fires we headed to the southern end of this diminutive country, to the old town of Stari Bar where again our car, complete with two roof boxes and six bikes attached proved massively unfeasible up the mountain roads.

Our equally ridiculous tent wouldn't fit on any the sites in the campsite so we ended up pitching it in the communal area right next to the bar (how did we manage that one again Mikes?)

We spent our last couple of days in the country, kayaking on Lake Skadar and cooling off in the natural swimming hole of the camp. No fires in sight it was just the relaxing time we needed before heading into the great unknown that was Albania!

Our mini but private beach kayaking lake Skadar

]]><![CDATA[Fierce Forest Fires in Montenegro]]>Thu, 20 Jul 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/fierce-forest-fires-in-montenegro

Fires at Herceg Novi, as viewed from the campsite! Photos by Nick

Last night the fires spread to the hill we were camping on. Still probably 3 miles from us, up and over a ridge but the virility of the luminescent flames devouring the shrub land above us was not a welcome accompaniment to dinner.

Everyone was on high alert with bags packed ready for the evacuation call. A restless night later - you could hear the fire at points it was that close - and no evacuation yet, but there is ash on the tent!.

Thanks to Steve who got about an hours sleep and spent the night monitoring the movements, walking the hills, speaking with the firefighters who were there all night. The fires are still burning tonight for our last night so fingers crossed all will be under control. It brings it home when you are staying with lovely people like Denise and Steve, whose whole livelihood is at stake. If we have to evacuate, at worst we'll lose the tent if we have to move quickly, they'll lose their home, their business and everything they've invested and worked for for 11years. It makes you come close to understanding the mentality of those people who stay to try and defend their homes.

Help arrives on our final morning. Three water dropping planes put on a show! Photos by Nick

Morning and the cavalry came in the form of three water bombers flying repeatedly from 8am. Like a mini-airshow to round of the adrenaline rush of the last few days. I don't think I ever want to be that close to a forest fire again. Let's hope that's the last of them...

]]><![CDATA[Full Monte in Montenegro]]>Wed, 19 Jul 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/full-monte-in-montenegro

Lazy, hot days at Full Monte Camping

We left Croatia with a ripped tent and eyes in need of clockwork orange crocodile clips from a sleepless night being battered by the Bora wind.

All night we lay petrified and frozen under the thin sarong we'd left unpacked as our blankets and sleeping bags were safely stowed in the car ready for an early morning departure which was not to happen due to said winds cancelling the crossing we were aiming for.

We did cross eventually on the larger ferry which was still in operation and we were once again on our way - via a stop at the biggest hardware store ever to buy some tent repair tape. Driving out of Split was rather surreal, a thick yellow fog like something from a world war gas attack clung to the hills surrounding us, as fires smoldered in the dry conditions and the high winds.

Approaching the border only heightened the underlying feelings of threat the fires had started. We really have driven quite far from home now and having passed through miles of burning lands to approach the border with Bosnia, it almost felt like we were being transported back in time to the war torn landscapes of the TV reports from the early 90’s.

My youthful memories of the Bosnian War lay heavily with me as we passed over the border and followed signposts to Sarajevo and we were both suitably subdued. We spent less than 2 hours in the country (for our €20 insurance) and the part we drove through was barren, bleak and burning so it was with some relief we passed onto Montenegrin soil.

We stayed in Hercig Nova, close to the border with Bosnia and Croatia, so close we could log onto Croatian mobile networks - vital when you're relying on using your UK contract data.

Otto not even leaving his hat on!

The eco-camp where we pitched up for 4 days, was unlike anywhere we've stayed so far. In eco credentials, it surpassed even the Varnam Homestay in Kerala, which used methane from their cows to cook with!

Denise and Steve's full Monte camp is completely off grid, powered entirely by solar, and has some inspirational water solutions in place that really impressed. It's great to see what could be possible given the drive and resourcefulness of committed people. They have water free toilets that don't smell at all (even after Otto’s let drop) and they recycle all the water in all sorts of amazing ways.

As the name suggests, the camp has a clothing optional policy,which was quite a big leap for Mikey and I. Although when we stayed it was about half and half clothed guests to naturists and it felt less awkward than you are probably imagining. After all, it did make some sense as it was seriously hot with temperatures surpassing 40℃.

Jessie watching the fires over Kotor from Njivice beach.

The beaches in Montenegro, like their Croatian counterparts, are pebbles as opposed to sand but the water was equally heavenly and we spent a few days lazing at the camp and bathing on a quiet nearby beach, catching fish (yes, we did catch one!) and observing the burning landscapes around us. We didn't make it to the reputedly beautiful city of Kotor as the raging fires smoked the skies surrounding it. But we did at least get away from the freezing winds we'd had briefly in Brać.

We caught a fish!

]]><![CDATA[Croatia: Zagreb to Brač]]>Fri, 14 Jul 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/croatia-zagreb-to-brac

Cycling through Bol sunglasses essential.

A short hop and a skip from Hungary and we were in country no.27, Croatia. We'd booked a cheap apartment in Zagreb and it was heaven to have two nights with good Wi-Fi, air-con, a private bathroom, a fridge and freezer! And most luxurious of all a washing machine. Clean clothes on tap!

We washed everything we had, it was such a luxury. Some things even got washed twice during the short stay after the lakeside submerging (details to follow). Again though, temperatures were soaring into the mid thirties so instead of touring the city on the bikes we opted for cycling followed by swims in the city lake.

A slight incident at the end of day two when Jess failed to stop at the side of the path, braking is still a work in progress. Unfortunately, the other side of the path was a steep, grassy bank that led straight into the rowing lake. I was ahead of her and Mikes when it happened so I missed the careering uncontrolled off-road downhill escapade. And also missed Mikey's heroic chase, flip-flops flying as he failed to catch her before she entered with a scream and a splash into the lake. Mikey dived straight in after her. Luckily she’s good in the water now, so it didn't freak her out too much. Unluckily, Mikey’s new phone is not. Two phones down in less than two months. The first, smashed all over the Autobahn and now number two sunk at the bottom of lake Jarun. Oops.

The new bike survived as well and was fished out by a concerned passerby who'd stopped to assist. Jess had a little cry, apologised profusely for not braking hard enough at the bottom of the hill to stop herself going in and then got back on the bike to continue the ride home. Slightly shaken but pretty proud of her bravery, we were suitably impressed by her balance which kept her on the bike all the way down the hill, and extremely impressed by her willingness to get straight back on.

Drama over and more washing done, we left with a cool box full of frozen water, milk, ice packs and feeling suitably ready for tent life again.

Time to head for the coast.

The bay at Lovrečina beach, Brač

We drove to Split and caught the ferry to the beautiful island of Brač. On first traverse, we didn't appreciate the stark beauty of the island; after the lush, green rolling hills and forests of Central Europe the dry, stony, grey olive groves of the Dalmatian Coast looked barren and somewhat lifeless. However, we grew to appreciate the wildness of the rocks and the crystalline turquoise waters they forged.

We were staying at our most expensive campsite yet, Croatia is beautiful but not cheap! It was up a killer k-long steep hill (murderous or morning runs) from the famous Zlatni Rat beach at Bol on the south coast of the island. The camping was amid the olive trees which was great for providing shade but proved dangerous for our by now ridiculously overlarge tent.

When we began camping in Belgium and Germany, our tent was usually middle sized on site: some were bigger and a few smaller. We felt ours to be the perfect size. A good tent to live in for three months through rain and shine. But by the time we reached the coast of Croatia, we had somehow increased to become twice as big, if not three or four times the size of the largest of the other tents on site. The problem then being, if sites aren't used to massive tents, their pitches are also not built to accommodate us. So there we were squished underneath some olive trees, the branches gently lowering on to the top of us. We further realised how badly equipped we were for Southern Camping when we attempted to hammer pegs into the stony ground. Half a bagful of bent pegs later and still none in the ground, we gave up and tied the tent into place on the trees.

The view looking back towards Zlatni Rat, Brač

All well and good for the first four days and then the Mistral blew in. We knew the island was famed for wind and kitesurfing but it hadn't occurred to us what this may mean to our makeshift tent tied to a tree setup.

By the time we left we'd had two nights of no sleep at all whilst the tent bent and blew with the trees from side to side so vigorously I swear we could have taken off into the sea, just another kite surf making the most of the westerly. The tent didn't fare well and we left with two large rips and many small extra airholes. It's perhaps a good job that rain was and is not forecast anywhere on this coast for the foreseeable.

We enjoyed Bol. The town is all built from blindingly white Brač stone. There is a long promenade perfect for cycling or running which skirts the coast all the way from the port past Zlatni Rat and the beaches all along, although stony, are irresistible. The white pebbles conjure up a deep turquoise sea reminiscent of the seas around Thailand or the Whitsundays.

We also loved Lovrečina on the northern coast. Partly for its shade and sand. Yes actual sand not the small pebbles that normally constitutes a Sandy beach on this coast. And also for its shallow waters perfect for ball games and splashing good fun.

Otto contemplating his wipe out manoeuvres, Supetar

More fun was to be had at Supetar beach where the kids talked their way onto an inflatable total wipeout style inflatable obstacle course. Mikey bouncing Jessica for the giant pillow is a video worth watching.

In the end, the wind and the expense saw us off still travelling south we set off through the first of our forest fires from Spit, through Bosnia and into Montenegro.

]]><![CDATA[Balaton: Europe's largest lake.]]>Thu, 06 Jul 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/balaton-europes-largest-lake

The proud cyclists

Crossing into Hungary and we were beginning to feel quite a long way from home. We like to attempt to at least learn hello and thank you in all the local languages but even after five days we still couldn't master even these simple two words in Hungarian.

Luckily everyone was very friendly and super helpful and lots of people spoke English, so we got by. We made a quick stop at Decathlon to splash out on new pedal bikes for the kids. Vienna had seen them both crack the pedal bike without stabilisers. They both have inherited some sporting talents from Mikey. So we now had 7 bikes on the back of the car (3 adult bikes and 4 kids bikes). Yes there is still only 4 of us…

Balaton was a bit like a Butlins but it was perfect for us. A cycle path from our campsite lead us to the lakeside 1.5km away. A perfect distance for the our maillot blancs in training.

Our closest lakeside beach had an amazing playground, sandy beach and pedalos shaped like cars with slides on. Waterpolo nets and basketball hoops in the water and pontoons a-plenty, they had thought of everything. There was even aqua aerobics each afternoon.

We spent a very easy 3days just hanging out holiday making. Early morning jogs beside the lake, followed by lounging at the beach followed by evening BBQ’s. And if it wasn't for the pesky mosquitos it would have been practically perfect.

Next stop, Croatia.

]]><![CDATA[Oh Vienna!]]>Fri, 30 Jun 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/oh-vienna

Horses outside the Hofburg Palace, but not the dancing kind.

It's not possible to say the name of the city of Vienna, it has to be sung. Famed for music, and I mean of the Mozart variety rather than Ultravox, Vienna had long been on my list of places to visit.

Unfortunately, 32℃ is not conducive to wandering around great buildings with small kids.

We saw the Hofburg Palace, where they have the Viennese dancing horses (which we saw only saw a video of, as the season had not yet begun).

We also visited the zoo, where the sea lions provided much amusement playing hide and surprise jumping out on the kids.

Outside of the zoo, Vienna

Other than that, the best of Vienna for us was the Ferris Wheel and rides at the Prater Amusement Park followed by a beautiful bike ride back via the island in the middle of the Danube (yes it was very blue).

Perhaps, I'll return in the winter one day, when sightseeing may be more bearable..

View of the old Ferris from the new! Prater Park.

]]><![CDATA[Lake Lipno, Czechy]]>Sun, 25 Jun 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/lake-lipno-czechy

Forest Kingdom : a young climbers heaven.

Crossing from Austria to the Czech Republic, the difference in wealth was immediately evident..

All the way through Belgium, Holland, Germany and Austria, the road were smooth perfection with bright markings and clear road signs. Crossing the border the road became unmarked, narrow and bumpy, road signs were non-existent and in their place roadsides were jammed with garden gnome shops? All very bizarre.

Had we made a big mistake?

Lucky for us, Lipno appeared. The lake is not far from the border and it's huge and beautiful. The town on the lake has none of the kitsch shops which lined the roads from the border and instead was lined with pizza restaurants, playgrounds and bars.

The campsite was cheap and after an hour of pondering where to pitch the tent we ended up where we'd first parked which when we awoke the next day we realised was about the worst spot on the whole site. A hike away from the wash block long enough to warrant taking the bikes, and with grass that was so long and spiky you had to wear shoes outside of the tent. Oh well, no way we moving house once we were up. At least it was peaceful!

The worst pitch on the whole site but still lovely for toasting marshmallows.

Lipno, like the Tyrol is a ski station in winter which seems to mean, there's tonnes to do in the summer too. The lift up the hill was open and once at the top hiking and biking opportunities were endless. We opted for pure unadulterated fun at Forest Kingdom. A huge playpark with wooden castles and walkways and slides and zip lines and a low ropes course and goats and bouncy pillows and igloos and ice-cream!

The ropes were our highlight with Jess and Otto proving at least as capable as I was over the obstacles which were around 6 feet off the floor. I'm not sure what was scarier for me, tackling the course myself or watching the kids do it. They weren't scared at all, of course. For them the only scary part of the park was the over exuberant goats.

What's more scary Otto?

Lipno also had an alpine coaster, although smaller than the one at Imst, still fun. More fun still was the bobsleigh. A bit more oldskool: no seat belts, no rails to be fixed too, nothing to stop you flying out on the corners! Woo-hoo!

Otto and I clocked 42kmph, Mikey left Jess in charge of the breaking and clocked 51kmph. Yikes!

We saw a little rain the next day so retired to the town of Cesky Kumlov… apparently one of the prettiest old towns. It was suitably pretty and had a tower to climb so held the interest of the kids for a wet afternoon.

Sibling love in Cesky Kumlov

A final last day, lazing by the beach playing on trampolines and on bouncy pillows and climbing frames built as ships and it was time to return to Austria.

Mikey pricing he's still full of bounce, Lake Lipno.

]]><![CDATA[Alpine fun in Imst, Austria]]>Wed, 21 Jun 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/alpine-fun-in-imst-austria

Typical Tyrolean view

The drive from the Black Forest to the Tyrolean Alps was beautiful: lush, green, forested slopes gradually steepened to granite topped mountains which appeared to pierce the skies as they towered up around us.

We were heading for a campsite near Imst. The site recommended by Ed and Kerry was in the grounds of an old castle which is now a typically kitsch Austrian hotel. With access to a swimming lake and a short drive from the town itself it had buckets of appeal. Despite my best efforts to thwart our plans (booking entirely the wrong campsite), we managed to find it by driving past the beautiful old castle next to a lake and pulling an abrupt u-turn.

We stayed for 4 nights and discovered some gems. Imst itself has a great walk up to the base station of the ski hill. The Rosengarten follows a canyon and you cross the icy clear stream several times (by bridge) and clamber up stairs, rocks and under cavernous overhangs. It took around 70mins which was about twice as fast as we'd thought. Otto raced up it running most of the way, whilst the rest of us dragged our lazy selves behind.

Racing up the Rosengarten, Imst

Unfortunately the hill was closed at the top as we were a little before the summer season weekday openings but we were able to return two days later (this time by car) to enjoy the chair lift up to the exhilarating alpine coaster. It's like a cross between a bobsleigh run, a go-cart and a traditional rollercoaster. Children are allowed from 3 years old as long as they ride with an adult. Just as well as if Jess had gone on her own, she would not have hit the breaks once and she would surely have flown off the tracks. The ride takes you all the way back down the chairlift and winds through trees, dips and turns around the side of the mountain at what seems like impossible speeds to remain safely attached to the tracks. The longest of its kind in Europe, it was an experience not to be missed.

Alpine Coaster Imst

More sedate days were spent swimming in the beautiful lake which also made a great running trail for a few early morning jogs. Unfortunately no cycling for Mikey as the roads up were often gravel tracks of ridiculous gradients, not road biking territory yet.

After leaving a few DNA traces of blood and skin cells on the campsite road due to some chaotic scooter and balance bike races, it was time to leave for the Czech Republic and Lake Lipno.

]]><![CDATA[Germany: The Black Forest, greener than you think!]]>Sun, 18 Jun 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/germany-the-black-forest-greener-than-you-think

The inflatable tent in all it's Black Forest glory! Mullerweiss

We left Belgium for country number 23 on our tour, Germany. We were heading for the Black Forest, an area neither of us had visited before. A campsite spotted on cool camping was looking hopeful so that was our direction set.

We eventually arrived later than expected (reception had shut for the night) to find the tent field only had availability for 3 nights. Having so far spent 2 nights in one camp and 3 nights in another, we felt ready for a slightly elongated respite from the erecting regime but it looked unlikely. Still the site was too beautiful to resist - and we had no backup plan - so we claimed our spot. Turns out it was German school holidays for Corpus Christi which meant the tent field was filled with feral foot highers. Perfect for us. And even more perfect, with some shuffling bookings by the owners we lasted a whole week in one spot. Woo-hoo!.

That stream is freezing! Mullerweiss the most perfect campsite ever.

Camping Mullerweiss was what camping should be all about: no cars allowed so the kids can roam free and mini trolleys to get your gear from the carport across the icily refreshing mountain stream to the tents. The trolleys also made good kid carts for added fun. The site had a playground, the wading, damning, splashing stream and right next door, a beautiful beer garden complete with trampoline and another playground!

Camping Perfection.

However, more than anything, what made this place great was the atmosphere and our fellow campers. Within ten minutes of arriving, both Jess & Otto were off, taken under the wing of the German children next to us. The camp was full of German mums and their kids; the dads presumably all absent at work. I do feel sorry for hard working dads (and mums) everywhere who miss out on family holidays. If only we could all find a work life balance that allowed kids to grow up spending loads of time with both parents. Everyone would benefit. As we often say, you don't get to the end of your life wishing you had spent less time with your kids!

I wondered how likely it would be for UK mums to set off camping with their children minus the dads. I'd like to think some would, but I fear the average UK mum wouldn't even consider it.

The campsite wasn't all German, there were Dutch and British on the site too.in fact we turned up at exactly the same time as a Scottish family who were really lovely. Ed and Kerry with their two kids Gillan and Rohen, had been to a wedding in Slovakia and were camping their way back to Edinburgh. We shared a fun day with them in a beautiful open air mountaintop swimming pool as well as loads of fun playing in the campsite stream, and a few relaxed campfire evenings swapping travelling tales. The most memorable moment in my mind remains the image of Ed wearing an archery target with a metal colander as a helmet running from the army of kids pelting him with water bombs at Ro's birthday party. A burn entertainer, his home made bubble maker was a sight to behold. .

Riding through the forest roads

This region of Germany is packed full of activities. As well as riding the bikes through the very green, Black Forest, there are loads of swimming opportunities in open air pools and lakes. We also enjoyed a treetop walkway which was full of obstacles thirty feet in the air! Mikey was a little scared but the kids helped him through it. Add in the 55 metre slide down from the top of the walkway’s highest point, it was ample entertainment for an afternoon.

Navigating the obstacles at Baumwipfelpfad treetop walkway near Bad Wildbad

Special mention must go to the barefuss park. What a great way to connect with nature. Basically, it's a walking trail through forest but to keep it exciting for the young at heart, you walk it barefoot. It’s designed with small sections of interesting tactile surfaces: freezing cold streams, smooth cobbles, fir cones, trampolines, wood chip, thick sloppy clay and even broken glass! A simple and utterly unique way of transforming a pretty but otherwise uneventful walk into a sensation for the soles!

Sole sensation at the Barefoot Park.

As the tent field emptied, we realised it was time for us to move on as well. Tempting as it was to stay on, three months on one campsite was not on our agenda. So we packed up again, next stop Austria.

]]><![CDATA[Life under canvas begins in Bruges and Brussels, Belgium]]>Sun, 11 Jun 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/life-under-canvas-begins-in-bruges-and-brussels-belgium

Erecting the inflatable tent for the first time, Belgium

After a frantic but fun two weeks in the UK where we managed to cram in seeing family, visiting schools, catching up with friends, attending Kaney and Amanda's wedding (which was utterly awesome), buying a car and a tent, and collecting camping gear we were ready to set off for our last hurrah: a 3 month road trip around Europe. Phew!.

Our rough plan is to head East to visit the Europe we don't know so well. Perhaps, as far as Romania or down to Albania but hopefully covering some new ground.

First stop Belgium, land of beers and chocolate: what's not to like! We rocked up, later than expected as per usual, to a campsite on the outskirts of Bruges. Ill prepared as ever, we had no gas for either of the stoves with us and no charcoal for the BBQ and so instead of enjoying the delights of camp cooking, our first cam dinner was sampling the delights of Belgium's equivalent to McDonald's. Thankfully, it was much better than its US brother and we even had a beer to accompany the burgers.

Bruges was a short cycle away from camp and we spent the next day touring the city along with hordes of others. We've hardly seen a busier place for tour groups, perhaps Antigua in Guatemala came close, but Bruges takes the title so far. Despite the hordes, it was still full of charm with its cobbled streets, canals, and towering steeples. It's the perfect size to wander around or take a leisurely cycle with hardly any traffic to worry about. It was the ideal town to try out the new bikes and child seats. Only a minor mishap (bike unrelated) led to us visiting the local hospital, when our youngest (who is a bit of a daredevil) decided jumping from a 6 foot high climbing frame was a good idea. On day two of s three month camping trip! And just in case he didn't damage himself the first time he tried it again. Second time unlucky as his foot swelled up and he couldn't walk on it.

Again, this is day two of 90days of outdoor action, we've come with a so much sporting apparatus we could start a summer school. And it looks like Otto has broken his foot. Aarrgghhhh!

Cycling in Bruges

But phew, thankfully, once we got the car started (flat battery from charging too many electrical devices) and made it to the hospital, they confirmed two things, firstly no bones broken and secondly, that Peter O’Toole can still fool both of us with his acting prowess. 18hours of hopping and crawling screaming with pain and as soon as we were back from the hospital he was playing football!

After Bruges next stop was Brussels, well Grimpenberg (a small town renowned for great beer just outside of the capital). The campsite had the perfect gradient for Jess & Otto to practice the pedal bike without meaning we were rolling off the airbeds. Brussels is another good looking city; it has the multicultural feel of a cosmopolitan capital whilst remaining small enough to feel at home. A winning combination in our books.

We were here primarily to catch up with friends we'd met on a beach in Mexico. A hopefully lasting friendship had been forged on Isla Holbox over a shared sense of travel and adventure and a shared love of Mojitos, when myself and Soto realised it was our joint birthday.

It was a killer hill to ride up to reach their place from the main station, news alert Belgium is not flat! But the climb was worth it, we had a great day: brunch turned into afternoon in the park and an evening of setting the world to rights as were shown amazing hospitality by our talented friends Amaury (listen to his music here) and Soti along with members of their family, thank you for entertaining us and we hope to return the favour, maybe in the UK next time!

We followed this by another not flat cycle, the following day, this time to Belgium's best water park, Oceana, which was ace. The Belgians seem to have a laissez-faire attitude which basically allows parents to take responsibility for their own children, which meant Jess & Otto went on all but one of the slides despite them being below the height restriction guidelines for all. They especially loved the cannon, which is short, fast, steep, and in darkness, plus it shoots you out about 2 metres above the water so you get some serious airtime before being plunged into the drop pool! The last water park we'd been to in Kerala, India, the kids had been barred from all but the kids pool so it was ace to see them enjoying the thrills and spills (one bruised head) of the slides.

Next stop, Germany and the Black Forest.

]]><![CDATA[Spain: re-entry to Europe...please?]]>Tue, 23 May 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/barcaibiza

Barcelona, after the rains had gone.

We landed from India into Europe, exhausted facing a cold, grey, wet Barcelona. Brrrrr.

Was it really necessary to pay the extra premium for the apartment with an outdoor pool? It certainly seemed worth it when we were booking it, sweltering in 40° Indian heat. But now we're here in drizzly 19° European spring, it feels rather foolishly optimistic.

Thankfully the rain was just a brief shower, a slight drizzle, a mere sea fret (I do love how many noun phrases we have for precipitation). Whatever you called it, It didn't last long and we enjoyed some serious seconds in the pool. I think that's about how long it took the kids to swim to the side and haul their soft selves out of the chilly waters having jumped in at the deep end. Brrrrr again.

The following day we flew to Ibiza, after checking the job vacancies at the English School we passed on the way to the airport! Are we ready to give up this amazing life and settle back in the UK. Time's running out for the jury on that one. We were meeting up with Riles and Lizzie in Ibiza, well to be precise, me and the kids were meeting Lizzie and her kids,, whilst the Dad's attempted to survive a stag do on the party isle.

We'd last seen the Riley's in Sydney, where they had kindly lent us a car and their camping gear for an awesome trip to Treachery Bay.

Camping in Treachery was just a tiny bit different from the villa in Playa d’en Bossa. Perhaps a wee bit quieter. But as it turned out both were fun! We'd hired a villa just a short walk from the beach complete with an outdoor pool (solar heated, brrrrr….) and four bedrooms so for the first time in some months we had the luxury of a separate room from the kids.

One thing we've certainly gotten used to during our time away together is a closeness that comes whether you like it or not from spending every waking hour and most of your sleeping hours together. No snore goes unheard, no trump goes unblamed on Otto, except Donald, obviously.

Now, Ibiza was not high on my list of European family destinations, but circumstances had brought us here, Kaney, and we, the left behind mums, were going to find the alternative to the club scene and attempt to have a fun family filled holiday, albeit for only six days.

Fun with old friends, Oliver, Otto, Charlie and Jess, Ibiza

The white isle did surpass my expectations and many of my fears were allayed. Turns out, it doesn't have to be horrendously expensive and there is stuff to do for kids. Even the party beach of Playa d'en Bossa was pretty peaceful, at least in the mornings. The afternoons on Bossa beach did see a slightly unusual sight. From about 2pm onwards there began a parade of single sex groups, walking up or down the beach with a purpose. Elsewhere beaches are generally populated by people laid prone, impersonating starfish, most definitely stationery and thoroughly relaxed, soaking up the sun, but not here. Everyone seemed to be going somewhere although it wasn't obvious where. Perhaps there were some secret party destinations at either end of the beach and the revellers were marching between them or perhaps it was an en-mass desperate search for a spot on the beach free from the seaweed that kept ruining those perfect selfie shots. Whatever they were up to, it made for some fun people watching opportunities for those of us who were contently sedate. Or at least it did, once we'd put aside our anxiety that one of the groups of posing pedestrians might just be the stag party, tiny pink briefs and all!

Thankfully no contact was made and when we weren't building and burying with sand on the beach, much of our days were filled in games of hide and seek and tiggy off ground around the villa. It was lovely for the kids to all meet up again. One of the sad truths of longer term travel for the kids is despite meeting hundreds of friends of all different nationalities, they often never see them again, so it was wonderful for the children to call catch up with Charlie & Oliver again and to see them all getting on so well together, plus it allowed Lizzie and I to have a holiday too!

Another highlight was the kids arena on the way from our villa to the beach. Inexpensive, and replete with trampolines, electric cars, indoor soft play and a great high ropes course for 4yrs and up. It was great!

Low ropes fun at Gran Piruleta park, Playa d'en Bossa, Ibiza

Once the dad's arrived, somewhat broken from the stag, we ventured out and about a bit. We hit the nudist, gay, family friendly beach (only in mainland Europe can all these coexist). Plus, we found sanctity in the old town where a storming of the fort led by balloon swords was the rowdiest thing by far.

The old town is beautiful, full of windy cobbled streets and great restaurants. The freezing boat ride around from Bossa was definitely worthwhile.

All too soon our six days of fun was at an end and yet another goodbye was on the cards. The Riley's were flying back to London, ironically our habitational town before our adventure begins and we were back to Barcelona.

We stayed for a few days with a fun family in the hills north of the city in Terrassa, famed for the Castellers, these are the death defying human pyramid towers popular in the region. I do love the cultural traditions that involve human endeavour, bravery and an element of physical risk. I'm a firm believer that we humans don't push our bodies enough to fulfill our potential (me, massively included in this). It's great to see the risks of human towers standing five rows high! Bravo!

A brief return to Barcelona for us to ponder again the possibility of making it our permanent home. In other words, Mikey checked the late night transport back from the Nou Camp and I chatted to parents in the park. Undoubtedly, we fell in love with Barcelona, after having a passion for Spain in general. Maybe one day….

The Riley's and the Newitt's enjoying the more sedate side of the White Isle in Ibiza town.

Beach life, Castelldelfels, Barca

]]><![CDATA[Sick in Paradise: The Andaman Isles]]>Thu, 11 May 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/sick-in-paradise-the-andaman-isles

Utterly deserted, Kalapather beach, Havelock Island.

There's never a good time to get ill, but it felt particularly annoying for it to happen, as it did for me and the kids, in the middle of the remote but paradisiacal Andaman Islands.

I was first to be struck down by the fever and aches of what felt like a really bad cold. Flu seems a ridiculous idea in the tropics but maybe that was it. Anyway I was knocked out for a day before Jess was struck with the same ailment and Otto followed shortly after. All of us taking it in turns to lie motionless in the sanctity of an overpriced air-con room or to sweat it out on the beach blanket.

My views on the Andamans is sadly tainted by our illness but one thing I cannot deny is that aesthetically it is stunning. White sands and turquoise seas abound. And thankfully no crocodiles were sighted.

My paranoia on that front was thanks to the lonely planet guide and the terrible incident 7 years ago (look it up if you want my fear). My phobia saw me carrying a knife with me to the beach most days. I'm not too much of a scaredy cat but if there's one animal that freaks me completely it is a crocodile. Those beasts are ruthless predators and I didn't want to be fighting with my fists (although I don't fancy my chances even with my knife: Mick Dundee I am not).

Scaling palms near Govind Nagar beach, Havelock island

We stayed initially on Port Blair as everyone does, it's where you fly in and out of from the mainland and where you wait to get your onward ferry (which can get sold out for a few days in advance). We also stayed on Havelock and Neil islands and visited Ross and to summarise these were my impressions, (sorry I can't give more detail but my sickness has tainted me somewhat).

It's expensive for India: I'd say nearly double mainland India (except at a few exceptions, Garden Village on Neil).
The beaches, however photogenic they are, are not great for swimming. Mostly rocky reef beds means unless it's high tide you find it hard to swim at most of them.
Ross island is well worth a visit, Jess, Otto,Mikes and I all loved clambering over the reclaimed ruins, pretending we were Indiana Jones.
The best beach is Radhanagar on Havelock island, here you can swim at all tides and the waves are perfectly formed A-frames: great for bodysurfing. And although it's busy by the parking area, you only need to walk 50 metres in either direction for solitude.
It is full of honeymooners (look out for the gold and red bangles).
The local ferries, although they are cheap are not easy to book. Unless you are willing to wrestle in queues for hours at a time, days in advance you may struggle to get them. We were lucky moving from Havelock to Neil and Neil to Havelock, it was super easy but we wrestled to and from Port Blair. We had to wait two days and Mikey took on the scrum in line on Port Blair before we could get leave for Havelock and our return back to Port Blair was almost a disaster. I queued for 3hours in a bunfight which even the police couldn't sort out only to give up and book a private ferry.
The private ferries are lovely. Take them. They're ace. Enough said.
Don't expect to find much in the way of culinary delights. Unlike the rest of India, the food was disappointing on the islands. We only found two restaurants that we liked and even they were not a patch on the food of Kerala and Goa
Beer is hard to come by, beware of bars offering beer, we went to one, it was a store shed with a bare light bulb that was peddling 6month old Kingfisher.

Anyway, not to disparage it further, I have no regrets going there. It was stunning and often we were the only ones on the beaches which gave it a remote desert island feel unlike any other we've been on (with maybe the exception of the Corn Islands). However, we won't be hurrying back.

We left Port Blair for our mammoth journey back to Europe, almost looking forward to the night train from Chennai. We would be disembarking in beautiful Kerala albeit at 4:20am!!!

Boarding the train was traumatic, having just finished reading Lion, the situation we found ourselves in with two big bags and two young kids negotiating a path through thronging crowds all scrambling to get on many trains about to traverse the lengths and breadths of the country freaked me out a little and involved a lot of me shouting stay close, hold my hand, where are you. But we made it and the train was bliss. New, clean, quiet and on time! It was like India knew we were leaving and was desperate to leave a lasting good impression.

Our journey was thankfully totally uneventful; a sleep filled night followed until 4:20am when we arrived in Kalicut on time. We checked into the immaculate Raviz Hotel where we were given an enormous suite. We only stayed one night but managed to eek out two breakfasts and 38 hours of 4-star bliss.

India, Oman, Turkey and we landed in Barcelona. Back on European soil.

Petrified trees at Ram Nagar beach (no3) Neil Island

]]><![CDATA[Night Bus in India: never again]]>Tue, 18 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/night-bus-in-india-never-again

waiting to board the dreaded nightbus

Well we'd decided to visit the remote Andaman Islands. But to get there we first had to trek East, through Tamil Nadu to Chennai to catch a flight. We'd certainly not considered Chennai as somewhere to hang out. Formerly Madras, it is India's fourth largest city and does not share the good rep of the Southern States.

Yet here we were on an overnight bus, something else we swore we'd never do with the kids, on our way through the Eastern state towards the city of Pondicherry.

The bus was ‘interesting’. We certainly knew we'd left the friendly states when at around 2am we awoke to the sickening sounds of a fight. Peeping out, I could see three or four of the passengers throwing punches at the driver! Great. Thankfully we were stopped at the time and thankfully Jess and Otto slept through the whole thing. The beds on the bus would have been quite comfy had it not been necessary to constantly cling on to avoid falling 5 feet to the aisle below. I'm not sure which of Mikes and I got the worst deal. Mikey got the unusual experience of sharing his double bed with a complete stranger and I had the discomfortable experience of sharing my double bed with two under fives. A long, overnight bus journey with no onboard toilet took it's toll and my double bed was decidedly damp!

To top it all off we spent three hours stuck down a narrow street which we'd detoured into. No matter how many times we reversed and ploughed forward again, no matter how many houses we smashed into, no matter how many power lines we pulled down, we still couldn't get free…

16 hours in and still just about smiling

When we finally disembarked in Pondicherry, (7 hours late) we still had a five hour train journey before we'd reach Chennai. So we treated ourselves to a night in a boutique hotel with swimming pool, some lovely food and a cold beer. One bonus to the crazier eastern side. You can drink beer!!

And give credit where it's due, Pondicherry was lovely, the quiet tree lined streets and the cooling sea breeze at dusk promenading along the front was tonic for the soul.

Night bus in India? Never again.

Phew, we made it to Pondicherry

]]><![CDATA[Swarm hits Kollam & Periyar]]>Sun, 16 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/swarm-hits-kollam-periyar

Not quite the Raviz but amazing service at the Four Seasons, Kollam

We arrived in Kollam ready to embark on a backwater cruise or head to Munroe Island.

The hotel we stayed in had arguably the best service we'd experienced anywhere in India. It also had a very welcome rooftop infinity pool, which was enjoyed by everyone. After being bashed and scraped by the waves in Varkala, it made a nice change to be bashed and scraped by the broken tiles instead. We whiled away many hours in competitive pool action.

We dined aboard the hotel's houseboat for Dan's birthday (complete with balloons and bejewelled spirit bottles). And we opted for the canoe tour around the backwaters of Munroe Island instead of the overnight houseboat tour.

The adults could have easily whiled away several hours talking nonsense and drinking toddy but ten kids may have gone stir crazy after the first hour imprisoned on a boat. The canoes provided more entertainment: helping to paddle, trying not to capsize them, ducking under ever decreasing bridges and spotting kingfishers (the birds not the beers). We even got a chance to swim (an impossibility in the backwaters of Allepey) and practice the newfound sport of human shot put as dusk set, before returning to our lovely land based hotel.

A visit to the resplendent lighthouse on Kollam beach and the ghost tunnel in Mahatma Gandhi park and we felt we'd exhausted Kollam and were ready to move on.

Kerala's communist ideology was in full force the next day, with a show of power from the people as shops, offices, restaurants and transport shut down all over the state. The protest was against the police treatment of the mother of a student who died under suspicious circumstances. We could have risked travelling but decided against it, partly in solidarity to the cause. We definitely made the right choice, as the papers the following day were full of stories of stranded foreigners.

The branch behind was one of the low bridges. Munroe island, backwaters

We did leave, eventually, for the mammoth journey into the jungles of Periyar National Park. A 28 seater bus was hired, complete with huge base bins and neon lights, and we were off. Two of our party were still ill (Delhi belly was still hanging around) so it was with some apprehension that we began the 6 hours on windy roads.

However, it was much better than expected. A slight disappointment at the waterfall stop which turned out to be a dry rock with no trace of even a trickle but we found some good coffee and nice cakes instead so all was good.

All aboard the party bus!

Periyar was great. Again we'd lucked out on the hotel and had a beautiful swimming pool (with slightly fewer broken tiles) to cool off in after the day’s travel. Although the stay was only brief (just two days) we packed it in, and for many of the swarm, this was the highlight of the holiday. The first morning we set off predawn, awakened by the cheap, sweet coffee bought from the bicycle seller. We were squeezed into two open topped jeeps and we drove in convoy through the darkness into the National Park.

As the light began to dawn we spotted two wild elephants up on the ridge, followed a short while later by an enormous Goar (like a large Bison), followed shortly after by a whole herd of said beasts grazing in the hillside beside the road. Monkeys and giant squirrels were also spotted but sadly no tigers. We took a hike through the hillside where the views were spectacular but no wildlife was spotted, much to the relief of some, who had been terrified by our guide's graphic description of the death of two hikers killed by a wild elephant on the very same path we were walking.

One hospital visit later, unrelated to wild elephants, instead more sickness returning (thankfully half an hour on a saline drip was all that was needed) and the swarm was back in full force for a boat trip followed by an exhausted jeep ride back to the hotel pool.

Hiking in Periyar National Park.

The following day we went to Elephant Junction, where we had a great morning feeding and washing elephants. The elephant shower was a particular highlight for me. OK so not the most natural thing in the world for the elephant, but it's still fun to get the full force of a trunk full of cold water full in the face. What a blast!

Otto loved the elephant shower at Elephant Junction

Another six hour bus journey and we were back in Varkala. This time with a pool that turned you orange as well as the obligatory broken tiles, but no sea breeze. We made the most of our last days settling into true holiday mode with sun shades and body boards aplenty. Beach cricket at sunset was added to the itinerary. More hennas, more shopping, a visit to the surprisingly impressive aquarium and more great food. Our favourite restaurant made a tidy packet from us and even got treated to a show featuring all ten children.

One minor hitch when jumping on the bed saw James bounce his way to four stitches at the local hospital at 11pm one night. James took it all in his stride, wearing his bandage as a badge of honour and retelling the tale often and with great vigour. He was a trooper throughout as in fact all the children were and despite the two strikes, two hospital visits and numerous bouts of sickness, everyone agreed it was a great fortnight. It certainly was very, very quiet when we shrank back to just the four of us again.

Three more weeks in India, what to do next? Monsoons approaching, heat rising. Only one thing for it, board a plane for the Andaman Islands..

]]><![CDATA[Varkala with ten children in tow]]>Wed, 05 Apr 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/varkala

Table for 18 please. Odayam Beach.

The logistics of travelling with two under fives is surprisingly simple. Our toddlers have now reached the grand old age of 3 & 4 - we've been travelling with them for 18 months now; they are (thankfully and finally) both out of nappies, yet still small enough to sit on our knees. They eat pretty much anything (unspicy) when they're in the right mood and they sleep wherever we squeeze in their tents so in terms of planning we don't really need to consider anything more than if it were just the two of us. But that all was about to change with the very welcome arrival of three families from home. The GBs, the Davies and the London Newitts were all set to descend on Kerala meaning our small family of four had rapidly morphed into a swarm of 18!

We had two weeks of fun adventures ahead and despite an ominous start - we woke on the morning of their arrival to the news of a statewide transport strike - the fortnight went off without a hitch, well there was the two trips to hospital but more on that later!! At least no-one had to walk from the airport, although they did face a death defying race against time in taxis trying to deposit them to the hotel before the strike was set to start at 6am.

We met in Varkala, as good a place as any to begin a tour of ‘God's Own Country’, especially since the new Keralan state ruling means outside of Varkala it is pretty hard to buy a beer anywhere. Not so in Varkala though, normal state rules don't seem to apply.

We spent three days on Odayam beach just 2km north of the main clifftop strip at Varkala. Waking up to the sound of the waves pounding mere metres from the door and looking out through the coconut palms to the warm seas was heavenly. We had Odayam beach almost to ourselves; in our annex we had a large garden strewn with hammocks which made a great late night hangout for the adults to unwind and the beach in front was like our private beach to get thrashed around in the waves.

Mornings of yoga, afternoons of body boarding, and evenings of fine seafood were not so hard to get used to. Throw in some cooking classes, henna tattoos and some serious souvenir shopping and you had the makings of an excellent start to a great holiday. We even had dolphins swimming by one morning as we sat on the beach eating breakfast. Sublime!

Our garden by the beach. Odayam, Varkala.

April in Southern India is hot and sweaty, air con is definitely recommended, most days it must have been late 30’s so the sea breeze was a godsend as was the odd thunderstorm which also made for a great natural fireworks display.

Watched from the (safety?) of the clifftop, the almost nightly belligerent storms were quite something; fork lightening assaulted the sea, amongst the lights of the hundreds of fishing boats. The storms were exhilarating to witness from land, but we were all grateful we weren't out there. One strike seemed so close to the boats that it drew a gasp of horror from the clifftop voyeurs. A small reminder that even in the laid back, easy going Southern state of Kerala, life can be harsh.

From Varkala, we headed north up the coast 50km to Kollam, a few rode in AC comfort by taxi with the mountain of bags, whilst the rest of us raced them by tuktuk and train. The intrepid train travellers rode in no style and nothing like comfort, apart from the kids who got lucky enough to sit up on the luggage racks. For those unlucky ones left stood by the toilets the ride was less than pleasant, a stomach turning, pallor inducing, endurance test that was possibly to have lasting consequences over the next few days. Cue the arrival of the infamous Delhi belly.

Best seats in the house. Train to Kollam

]]><![CDATA[Kochi to Varkala: the calm before the swarm]]>Thu, 30 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/kochi-to-varkala-the-calm-before-the-swarm

Jess and Otto watching the Chinese fishing nets, Kochi

We had just ten days to kill before our next visitors were set to arrive. Just enough time to check out Kochi

With it's famous fort area and Chinese fishing nets, we had high hopes for the city. And yes, they were very nice but nothing on Wonderla!

Wonderla is Kerala's best water park in fact there are a few Wonderlas elsewhere dotted around India but the one near Kochi is ace. It's big, clean, has loads of slides and also has some small land based rides as well. We spent a great day here, cooling off from the southern heat. My only complaint was they were a little too cautious and wouldn't let our two kids on any of the bigger slides, which is a rarity on our travels. Everywhere else from Bali to El Salvador they have allowed us to take responsibility for them but not here. We got whistled at constantly as the life guards panicked to see our two swimming on their own. The wave pool attendant nearly had a heart attack as they were diving underneath the waves and swimming for ten seconds underwater.

After Kochi we stopped briefly in Allepey with the thought of checking out a backwater houseboat cruise. But the more we priced it up and took a look at it, the more we realised it wasn't for us. Ten children imprisoned in a small space for hours on end with no chance of going for a swim even. Not ideal. So after a couple of slap up meals at the Ramada hotel, we left our cheap dive next door and headed down to Varkala.

Varkala beach from the clifftop

Varkala lived up to its reputation. Firstly, we could sit in a restaurant and have a beer! Albeit disguised in a clay mug bit still a beer. And they served cocktails as well.

If you're heading to Kerala and plan on straying from Varkala be aware you may find it tricky to get any alcoholic beverage. The state government have been piling restrictions on top of restrictions which makes it pretty difficult and time consuming. In fact Gokarna was equally facing restrictions so it is happening in other states too. Even way out here in the Andamans (where I'm penning this post from) there is no beer anywhere but one 5 star resort.

But not in Varkala. The weight of tourism or the remoteness of the cliffs mean it is a safe place to chill with a beer and watch the sundown. The beach is also beautiful for a morning run, it stretches for way further than I could ever hope to run. And at seven in the morning it's still shaded by the mighty cliffs so cool enough to attempt some exercise.

Next post, the arrival of the swarm: the GBs, the Davies and the Newitts arrive. When four became eighteen. Yikes!!

]]><![CDATA[Northern Kerala: deserted beaches and crazy festivals]]>Sun, 19 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/northern-kerala-deserted-beaches-and-crazy-festivals

Bliss found at the Jackfruit Tree Inn, Calicut

So when I posted last, we were leaving the jungle clad hill tops of Wayanad heading back to the beaches. This time Northern Kerala, specifically Thottada and Kozhikode (Calicut) where we would bid our farewells to the grandparents.

The beach at Thottada was nothing like I was expecting, often when you travel following the guide book you head to places described as 'deserted’ and 'off the beaten track’ only to find lots of tourism has developed (usually during the two or three years since the guide book was edited and you arrive, places catch up to accommodate all those intrepid travellers who set out to find the undiscovered place). So we were expecting Thottada to have a smattering of accommodation options and restaurants to choose from and maybe the odd souvenir shop. But much to our disappointment there was next to nothing there.

We like a bit of tourism, we're tourists after all; we are definitely not the ones who revel in finding a deserted empty beach. We're not into eeking out a holiday, we like it a bit easier than that. Turns out here, we were the only people on the enormous beach. Well that is until our arrival sparked some curiousity amongst the young local men who parked themselves, rather unnervingly, in two groups just behind where we'd set our towels down. As it turns out they meant us no harm but were just surprised to see 7 white people of three generations on their beach.

Punting on the backwaters behind deserted Thotthada beach

The waves were smashing, quite literally, so after five minutes of survival all that was left to do was sit and read or build sandcastles. The lack of restaurants meant we ate every meal at our guest house, the cooking was lovely but the serving left me feeling a bit uncomfortable as the owners and two staff would sit behind us and watch us constantly so they could advance and refill any part of the meal which we were near to finishing. Mikey's beer run helped a bit but we all felt ready to move on.

We did get to visit a Theyyam which was our main reason for staying here. Mikey stayed home with the kids and me and the grandparents squeezed into a tuktuk and headed off into the villages inland. We got there just as the first dancers were on: three huge men dressed in magnificent scarlet and gold costumes with red makeup all over them. They were frighteningly menacing to look at and quite accomplished in their act; their hopping their enormous weight on top of tiny stools whilst fire was lit all around them, was particularly impressive.

There followed two more dancers again in voluminous costumes, some wielding big swords and some dancing on fire. It was a sight to behold and although we stuck out like a sore thumb as obviously not one of the villagers, many people spoke to us, although not in English, so I've no idea what they were saying but the tone and gestures and smiles all lead me to believe it was all friendly.

Theyyam near Kannur

Exhausted by the late night Theyyam, we left the next day by train to Calicut (Kozhikode). India is still in the process of renaming cities, a process which started with independence from Britain in1947. Now, I’m aware there are a lot of cities in this huge country, but seventy years on and still some places are so newly named they go by both names.

Kozhikode was a breath of fresh air, despite it being a city. We had found a gorgeous mansion right by a beach ten minutes north of the city to stay in for three days and it could not have been more perfect had it tried. The Jackfruit Tree Inn was right on a clean, almost private beach, where the water was calm for swimming and there were dolphins not twenty metres from shore every morning. The owner and his sister came to meet us when we arrived, she heavily pregnant and really interested to hear our outlook on travelling with young children. They couldn't have been nicer and Jitesh, the day manager was a godsend. He took us shopping, rang for takeaway for us. We even had wine with dinner! Indian wine. Indian wine that was drinkable!

We enjoyed our last three days of luxury in this enormous house, Mikey making pancakes for breakfast, desperately trying to swim with the dolphins and generally relaxing with Ayurvedic massages and hammock hanging.

It was bliss. Exactly the way to end the trip for the grandparents.

Blue band all the way, Otto, Mikes and Grandma, Kerala festival season

We made it to another festival whilst here, Jitesh knew of one happening locally which was coming to an end. He warned us it may be very busy but we went for it.

Nothing ventured nothing gained.

We taxied round the backstreets till we came right to the back of the parade. We squeezed past the drummers and joined the throngs of dancers. Looking round, just two minutes out of the taxi, all of us were already jigging away a little. It was truly infectious.

The blue band village adopted us and wouldn't let us walk any further ahead than their group. We all had blue ribbons tied around us and were well and truly welcomed into the parade. Otto was the star on Mikey's shoulders or dancing to his own beat he had an entourage that sometimes seemed to be keeping even us at a safe distance from the mini demi-god. He loved it!

A fitting end to a great three weeks with the grandparents. Three states visited, seven hotels slept in, two wild elephants spotted, two festivals attended, many temples and palaces visited, two cameras lost, 1,000km travelled and lots of great memories to take home. We're all missing them for sure.

Otto and Grandma enjoying sunset at Jackfruit Tree

]]><![CDATA[Into Kerala: Wayanad National Park]]>Wed, 15 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/into-kerala-wayanad-national-park

Jess & Otto (now 3&4) presenting their latest home: Varnamhomestay

Yesterday we travelled up into the jungle, here to Wayanad. What a contrast from Mysore. Absolute silence except for the wind in the trees and the birds calling.

It was a relief to leave the tooting of tuk-tuks. Here, lush green jungle, gardens and farms replace the dust and rubbish of the city. And lazing in hammocks (or watching the grandmas fall out of the hammocks) replaces cooling off in the hotel pool. This place is utterly restful, once you've mastered the art of clambering into the hammock. But not being ones to get overly rested, we all got up at 6am to take a wildlife drive!

Mother and calf crossing behind us in roadside safari, Wayanad National Park.

It was worth the early start as we saw many deer (spotted and the large Samba), three types of monkey, many huge bison and what we were really here to see, elephants. A mother and calf right by the roadside. They crossed within feet of our jeep, the mum driving towards us with a protective look in her eye that saw our driver accelerate away to a safe distance.

The homestead we are in here is an organic farm where they grow everything you can think of, literally you could name a tropical fruit or herb and I'm sure they grow it here: avocados, mangoes, pomegranates, passion fruit, pineapple, figs, coffee, vanilla, chillies, mint, cinnamon, coconuts, cashew nuts, pepper, Jack fruit, kiwis, grapefruits, and 14 different types of banana to name a few!.

Turmeric, jack fruit seeds, figs and coffee to name a few. Varnamhomestay

We tried to make it to the circus whilst here, but a huge hailstorm prevented us. Until Wayanad, we have had nothing but sun and searing heat whilst in India, so it was somewhat surprising to be pelted by freezing hailstones whilst lying on our hammocks. My flip-flop were nearly the first casualty as they went sailing off in the torrent of gushing rainfall down the monsoon runoffs, thankfully I rescued them just in time.

It's just cricket!

We leave tomorrow back to the beaches, this time those of Northern Kerala, where my Fidel Castro hat seems to fit right in - there's large support for the communist party in this state, stencils of Che Guevara adorn every lamppost. Let's hope we like it more than we did Cuba, and pray we've seen the last of the hail!

]]><![CDATA[Gokarna to Mysore: hippies to palaces]]>Mon, 13 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/gokarna-to-mysore-hippies-to-palaces

Sunset at Kudle and the beautiful Om beach.

From Agonda, we moved south by train - just 2 hours late - to the hippy hangout of Gokarna and Kudle beach (aptly pronounced cuddly, I don't know if the hippies named it).

Here we stayed for a few nights just lazing on the beach, being harassed by hawkers to buy necklaces and watching the antics of the hippies at sunset gathering on the beach to drum, chant, twirl fire and sticks and balance on each other in various poses.

The walk to Om beach was a welcome distraction from the sellers despite the heat and also provided us with more cows on the beach shots. My one regret would be we didn't realise how close we were to Gokarna town, which looked worth a wander to buy cheap beach clothes and souvenirs.

Sunset at Kudle beach with a cuddly hippy vibe

Our whistle stop tour continued with a 14hour train ride overnight up to the city of palaces, Mysore. The train ride was fairly uneventful, unless you count Otto having a major malfunction around 9pm just as most passengers were getting off to sleep.

Tantrumtastic was kicked off by not wanting to wear his pants! And continued for about 20 minutes of full scale screaming, hitting and stamping up and down.

The situation was not helped by our pre-ordered food turning up, after we'd long since given up on it and filled up on crisps and biscuits. The vendors (in typical Indian bureaucracy) insisted I produce the SMS verification code before they'd hand the food over. Screaming child in one hand, phone in the other, a coach load of Indian passengers looking mightily irritated at being kept awake…Perfect!

Ah, the joys of travelling with toddlers!

Mini Maharajahs in Mysore

We reached Mysore on time (unfortunately as it meant 5am). The city vastly surpassed my expectations. Despite my initial intimidation at our first taste of an bustling Indian city, by the time we'd left I was really rather taken with it.

Yes, it was smelly and the traffic was chaotic, but it was also beautifully serene in part too. Crossing the roads took nerves of steel as did ignoring the many street sellers and beggars, but in retrospect, apart from one particularly pushy tuk tuk driver , everyone else was very friendly.

We whiled away 4 hours at the clean and well run Mysore Zoo, which had everything but polar bears and penguins (at 37℃, I'm guessing housing Arctic animals would be ill advised).

We were the only white people in there on a busy Saturday before Holi (the religious holiday where the paint throwing happens) and as such were inundated with selfie requests. But it was all in good spirits and I couldn't fault the zoo, the animals were well cared for in carefully thought out large enclosures and even the canteen was good!

We took in the other sights of the city of Palaces, of which the most impressive was undoubtedly the Mysore Palace by night. Lit by thousands of individual light bulbs, the huge Palace glows with a Midas touch that is well worth seeing and it's free! But only on Sunday's between 19:00 - 19:30.

Mysore Palace at night

And we found a new method of transport.

Enormous Nandi at Chamundi Hill

On wandering the city, I got happy Holi'd much to the amusement of the market stall owners when some young lads asked if I would take part. The boys offered me some paint dust to throw first, so I took a tiny amount and sprinkled a little on one of the boys and in return got a huge handful from them hurled smack in the face. Bleurghh. I was eating paint all the way to the bookshop, where I then had to leaf through the books with green paint stained hands.

The staff just laughed and wished me 'happy Holi'.

Next stop the communist state of Kerala and some animals at Wayanad National Park.

Holi festival where it's custom to throw paint dust and water at anyone game.

]]><![CDATA[Patnem, Palolem and Agonda: South Goan beachlife.]]>Tue, 07 Mar 2017 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/goan-beachlife

Living the dream! Campervan on the beach, Agonda

Patnem was all out of mopeds sadly. So we got the VW bus instead!
I wish!
We are not quite living that dream yet but some lucky campers were on Agonda beach. Meanwhile, we had a meet up planned with Julie from my university days so we made a move to nearby Agonda beach and the family Newitts got back on the mopeds

This time we were with the grandparents….look out! Five adults and two kids squeezed onto two mopeds and a Royal Enfield Bullet (apparently a classic Indian motorbike). The bullet rumbled and roared behind me as I putt putted solo for a change - Shirls was in my usual spot: desperately clinging on the back of the moped for 4 whilst telling a billion stories.

Agonda beach is pretty much our favourite Indian beach so far. It looks true Goan paradise, even comes complete with VW camper vans parked up amongst the palm trees. Much wider and longer than Patnem so you feel you have loads of space. We shared the beach with a few tourists, quite a few cows and a renegade horse who kept wandering into restaurants to steal people's breakfast!

The accommodation is more varied on Agonda than on Patnem and we split our time between a clean and bright budget beach shack at Nana's Nook on the Southern end and a more expensive AC option on the Northern end of the beach. There are tonnes of great places to eat as well for all budgets and tastes from the European upmarket Kopi Desai to the low-key but reportedly excellent Fatima's Rest.

The one downside to great restaurants is we ate so much, I felt compelled to get out running again and my calves had a good workout on the never ending sands of the longer beach. As a place for a run though, it's hard to beat. Barefoot, at sunrise, in such amazing surroundings, it almost negates the pain.

Cows on the beach, Agonda

Five minutes ago when I started this post, I was sweltering in a hammock in the beautiful gardens of Varnam Homestay in Wayanad, now I've just had to make a mad dash to shelter as the driving hail has nearly washed my flip-flops down the irrigation system. It's still beautiful but at 1000meters above sea level, I've actually felt cold for the first time here in India!

Anyway more on Wayanad later, the thunder and lightning may try to distract me but I'll soldier on through. What a hard life I have…

So where was I, still in Goa.

We briefly visited Panjim the state capital which is remarkably quiet and clean for what I imagined from an Indian City. And also has great restaurants. Other highlights of Goa were:

1) Cabo de Rama: a quiet fort near Agonda beach which has beautiful views and makes for a good moped excursion if you want a break from the beach.

2) Splashdown water park: where both kids (Otto is 3 now, and Jessica, 4) managed to get on the extreme slides on their own. It helps that both of them can swim, but they do look tiny on the big slides.

And lastly

3) The dolphins. We caught glimpses of them whilst in Patnem but decided to get up close with them on kayaks from Palolem beach. After an tasty vegan lunch at Little World, where the kids were dressing up in cushion covers and playing in the toy kitchen, we paddled out to see a dozen or so dolphins fishing in twos and threes probably about 300 metres from shore.

Sadly no pictures of the dolphins.

Overall, Goa is nothing like I expected. At least not the bits we've seen. No sign of package holiday resorts, only a scattering of hippies and mostly beautiful beaches and quiet luxury. Definitely, a place to recommend.

More camping options, Agonda beach.

]]><![CDATA[South Goa: Patnem beach]]>Fri, 24 Feb 2017 11:12:39 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/south-goa-patnem-beach

Our mini eco-warriors trying to plant a tree on Patnem beach

Don't get me wrong, it feels great to be back on a beach but I'm surprised how quickly I've declimitized to the travelling lifestyle.

Two months at home in the freezing English winter (we even saw snow more than once) has knocked off my travel radar and my internal thermometer somewhat.

We arrived in Goa three nights ago, flying in aboard a Thomas Cook flight (how disintrepid can you get!). We sweltered in a hotel, with aircon, near the airport and now find ourselves thoroughly ripped off for accommodation on the otherwise pretty perfect, Patnem beach.

You'd have thought after two months at home in the UK that we'd be fully prepared for life on the road and after more than 15months on the road previously, we'd know what to be prepared for. Sadly, both assertions would be false. We've forgotten some basics (antiseptic cream, story books and travel adapters for the multitude of electrical devices we carry), We're unprepared for other stuff (the heat! arriving in peak season with no bookings - oops). On top of all this, I have grown so accustomed to creature comforts in just two months of UK life that I feel almost as bewildered as I did when we first set out in September 2015. What no fridge? No washing machine? …

Turning up here on Patnem was our second introduction into the disorganised disorder of general life in this huge country. We'd had our first taste of crazy systems already when trying to book train tickets online. For anyone else looking into this I'll post a separate thread with some advice or check out www.seat61.com. Needless to say, it’s a messy affair, which took four days and many internet hours to book one overnight train journey. Finding accommodation when we arrived at this beach seemed along similar lines of haphazardness, many resorts seem to be partly private owned so you have to speak with ten different people to find out if there is a room free and all the rooms, even ones side by side in a block, are all vastly different standards and prices and of course there's no correlation between cost and luxury. It can be exhausting!

Two nights in and my discombobulation was increased further thanks to Otto (our youngest) waking up a multitude of times attempting to hack up his own tiny lungs in a number of coughing fits, which the calpol and ibuprofen administering had little effect on. We eventually relented at 3am and moved him into our bed where he slept like a baby...Peter? Your best performance yet? We didn't enjoy such sleep as just as we moved him in, the power cut out and the meagre ceiling fan ground to a suffocating halt in the 30°c heat.

Welcome to India!

The busy beach, Palolem, next door.

Thankfully, things are looking brighter today. After a late start we spent the day eating delicious vegetarian food, swimming in the sea and building sand castles complete with aquaducts. Evening followed with more fine curry, fire shows and loads of kids running free, playing on beached fishing boats with giant sticks in a scene reminiscent of Lord of the Flies. Luckily, the fire didn't get out of control, no littluns got hurt and many new friends were made.

Back on the 4 person moped tomorrow - eek. I’m not sure I'm ready for it? Better get channelling my inner Zen!

Please power, stay on for us tonight!

With new friend Champ!

]]><![CDATA[Christmas at home in the UK]]>Thu, 29 Dec 2016 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/christmas-at-home-in-the-uk

Christmas mayhem with the Newitt/Hunter/Judge clan in full force

Christmas and we have returned to the UK, albeit hopefully only briefly. A few medical issues (god bless the poor old NHS) to resolve before we continue on our way. Next stop Holland, and then India.

What a great time of year to catch up with family and friends. We started in London, well East Dulwich to be more precise. We still haven't made it into the actual centre of London yet. For anyone not familiar with the UK capital, it is undeniably massive but made manageable by being split up into a multitude of small almost separate towns, each with a high street and a character all of its own. Well, most are peppered with the same big American chains but they still have some individuality

Seeing friends has reminded us how little life changes in the time we spend away. Everyone's children have grown (yeah, I know I shouldn't be surprised at this) and some are now bigger than me (again, I should not find this a shock, being a minute individual). Some technology has advanced: saw a man buying a round of drinks with his phone! But otherwise, life is pretty much as it was when we left two Septembers ago. Traffic is horrendous, the trains are frustrating and it's difficult to get an appointment at the doctor's. Oh yes, and it's very, very busy.

We've so far taken in magnificent Manningtree, fab Farnham and naughty Knutsford, and of course Yarm.

There were 19 of us in Yarm for Christmas dinner, and despite the usual nervous moments on Christmas Eve, the big day was a great success. The Mexican wrestling masks coupled with the latest nerf guns meant it was a little dangerous but lots of fun.

Still mostly civilised at the YLF in The Crown (before the dance floor antics)

More revelry was had at our annual dinner two days later with some awesome dad dancing and mum moves on the flashing dancefloor of the Cross Keys. We survived the speeches and awards relatively unscathed and it was humbling to remember how lucky we are to have such funny and caring friends, many of whom we've known for over 30 years now! Ouch...

Another motley bunch: The Knutsford catch up in beautiful Tatton Park

Much of our UK December nights were filled with boozy antics and our days were anything but restful, with lots of friends to catch up with and lots of kids to entertain we were kept busy. It was freezing cold, we’re still trying to acclimatise, but we had lots of sunshine and some good new winter clothes so the crisp and frosty days were filled with fun too. We spent many days at the play park with all the cousins and the Aunties and Uncles.

We had some indoor fun at a great climbing centre at Billingham Forum - of all places - which Jess enjoyed with her biggest cousin Oscar (one of the kids who has outgrown me already) showing her the ropes.

After leaving Yarm, we headed for Cheshire and the lovely town of Knutsford, which is where we plan to settle on our permanent return to the UK. We caught up with all the Dans and the Charlottes and enjoyed some exuberant dancing and table tennis in the basement of the newest of their beautiful homes. All this was packed into two weeks, which by the end of we were pretty much ready for Dry January, but before that we had New Year's Eve and Razor's 40th Birthday to enjoy. And what better a place to celebrate than Holland. After an evacuation at Manchester Airport we hit country number 15 on our trip as we landed in Amsterdam.

]]><![CDATA[Trinidad, Varadero and home]]>Wed, 14 Dec 2016 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/trinidad-varadero-and-home

Trinidad streets and the common form of transport, the humble horse!

Leaving Cienfuegos, we headed a short way West to Trinidad and then on up to Varadero, possibly the two places most heavily weighted towards tourists in all of Cuba.

Trinidad was all cobbled streets and pastel houses surrounded by lush green hills. Visually stunning and very photogenic but it can be overwhelmed by visitors. As an example, we were sat in a bar one afternoon (admittedly a very touristy one, Taberna Canchánchara) when a scrum of tourists, equipped with enormous cameras and impossibly long lenses heaved for a full five minutes around the old man by the entrance smoking a cigar, desperate to get their perfect shot. UK paps would have been proud of the lack of humanity on display. He was just smoking a cigar!

On the one hand the influx of tourists meant we finally found some good food: Salsa Suarez, in Varadero, was so good we ate there twice in a row. On the other hand it also meant we were constantly targeted as walking wallets. Even a school in Trinidad that invited us in, asked us for money. The school itself was lovely, with beautiful wall displays, well equipped classrooms and happy kids. I couldn't blame the teachers for asking us for money; the disparity between the Cubans working in state careers and those working privately in the tourist industry is enormous.

Trying to escape the tourists in Trinidad

One taxi driver we spoke to told us he could earn US $200 a day whereas the state wage is reputed to be US $25 a month! It's hardly surprising then that the practice of begging or scamming tourists for money is rife in Trinidad. It did get tiresome. Whilst we struggled with our consciences we didn't give a 'donation’ to the school. Much as I value education, I am aware that Cuba has one of the best state funded, state provided education system of any developing country anywhere.

In fact, although Cubans reputedly earn very little, they do have many things to thank the socialist state for: good education and healthcare, heavily subsidised housing, and even free basic provisions in a rationing system. I'm not condoning Castro's regime as his human rights record left many Cubans with little freedom to express their sexuality, practice their religion or even move freely within their own country. I guess I'm a bit undecided on Fidel as in my heart, I'd like to think socialism could work, but still there is little evidence for its success anywhere in the world.

Jessie swimming with the fishies, Varadero

Political views aside, Varadero was much more pleasant than we expected, with white sand beaches and turquoise seas in abundance. We were only there for two days but we managed to squeeze in a catamaran trip which saw both kids diving down with the plentiful fishes. They loved it and so did we.

All in all, we won't hurry back to Cuba. Yes, it was interesting. The architecture and the cars are worth a look and it does have some lovely beaches, but there is much that left us with a bit of a bad taste and not just from the food. The final nail in the coffin for us was the traumatic departure which saw us all super stressed desperately trying to use WIFI to obtain Canadian visas before they would let us check in to the flight home. Ok, so it wasn't Cuba's fault we didn't realise we now needed a visa to transit through a Canadian airport. But the lousy internet and lackadaisical work ethic of the staff in the airport almost sent me into total meltdown as we finally checked in 20 minutes before we were due to depart.

We did make the plane. We made it out and back to Europe in time for Christmas… yes I know my blogging is still someway behind real-time. New year's resolution: I must try to keep more up to date with the blog.

Bring on 2017! May it bring us all lots of fun new adventures.

]]><![CDATA[Viñales & Cienfuegos: cowboys, cigars and the beach]]>Sun, 11 Dec 2016 00:00:00 GMThttps://www.travelswithatoddler.com/blog/vinales-cienfuegos-cowboys-cigars-and-the-beach

Mikey sampling the organic hand rolled Cuban cigar!

Viñales, for us felt a bit like Disney does Cuba. But nevertheless we had a great few days there. Tourism has hit here big time and the money making encroachment of capitalism is in full effect.

Instead of mojitos and smiles we were met with a stern matriarch who repeatedly told the kids not to do things. She took the lamp, the air con controller and the key from our room in case the kids broke/lost them and bamboozled us with such fast, incomprehensible Spanish that before we knew what was going on we'd agreed to have a vastly overpriced and very mediocre meal from her.

That aside, the setting was wonderful, the limestone mongots (karst cliffs) that dot the valley give it a regal, stupendous feel and the caballeros (cowboys) that roam the village on foot, on oxen carts or on horseback, give it a rural rustic glow that the tourist Disneyland feel hasn't quite yet rubbed out. Many people say come to Cuba quick before it changes and I fear that we have missed that boat a little, but still we had a great time.

Otto taking a ride with our cowboy.

We toured the region on horse and cart, visiting tobacco farms, rum factories and caves. The cart was entertainment in itself, especially cantering up narrow dirt paths where the hordes of horse and riders before us had grooved a ravine like trough in one part of the path six feet deep and our cartwheels sometimes survived on the outer edges and sometimes plunged into sending us on an angle akin to a stuntcar riding up onto two wheels. It was all we could do to hang on ourselves and hope the kids were holding on fast. They loved it! The tour was great, we smoked cigars (organic and nicotine free apparently) but still dangerous especially trying to smoke whilst trying to hold on! Mikey managed to brand me. We sampled rum, again the period of mourning did not count for the rum farms! And we squeezed through the narrow pitch black caves, whilst I calmed a rising panic due to memories of my glaucoma attack which came after the last caving trip in Guatemala.

Another day we tripped to the beach, where the kids played for four hours with two plastic dinosaurs and some sticks. I love our children as every parent does, but I'm constantly impressed by how much they can do with so little. One thing this trip has given them for certain is room to use their imagination and their creativity sometimes astounds me.

A Viñales farmer introducing our kids to his kid

From Viñales we left on the ridiculously early Viazul bus to Cienfuegos and we found amazing hospitality again.

Usually when we travel we avoid cities, preferring the rural areas, less roads, more freedom for the children to roam and run, but so far Cuba has proved the opposite. Cienfuegos appears again like a 'real’ city with people going about their daily business. There are shops with plenty of goods (something we'd been warned not to expect) and beautiful European architecture again, although this time French. They even have an Arc De Triomphe. We only had three nights here to visit the sights, trip out to the beach and enjoy the hospitality of our wonderful casa..

Chasing birds in Cienfuegos

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