For a brief overview of our families 5 month trip to North America, you can read the published article here.
It shares the highs and sometimes low’s, of our family of 4, myself, my husband Shaun, our then 4 year old daughter Lola and 3 year old son Lincoln, as we explored our way through a foreign continent. You can read more on each destination in my travel section.
This post is for those of you who, like me, just want to know more, who want the small details, the in between, the how. I’ve often read travel stories and when I’m saturated with the beauty and adventure of the lands they’ve discovered, I am left wanting to know more about the people. I want to know why they did it, why they chose that place. I want their whole story, well at least the good bits. So I’m going to try and give you our good bits here. This is our story.
August 2008, at a time that for good reason I cannot be more specific, a round and happy little egg, met its match. Shaun and I had been married for two years, and this kind of thing is to be expected, but we were blindsided. We had moved from Johannesburg to Cape Town the year before and we were very happily living it up in our beautiful new city. Wine tasting on weekends, days spent lying in peaceful oblivion on the white sandy beaches, and evenings out with friends enjoying one of the world’s most charming cities. Then rather abruptly, we were faced with the news of a new little life. It was unexpected, but we were delighted. And then we were overwhelmed by our desire to travel!
In all the years we had been together (six by this stage) we had never had the desire to spend months or years in other countries, either trying to stretch our Rands (South African currency) or earning what ever we could in what ever minimum wage job was allowed for foreigners. Suddenly we felt the need to stretch our legs and gain a little perspective on our lives, and suddenly that was exactly what we couldn’t do.
Shaun and I are not people who take no for an answer very easily, in fact, we are the type of people who will make a plan, we will make it work, we will do what we must. But at this particular juncture in our lives, we knew what the right choice was, and we were in a whole other ball game; should I go natural or C-section, should I bottle or breastfeed, disposable diapers or cloth ones? Life had turned in a very different direction. With this adult like decision on staying put while having our little girl, we made a firm decision to embark on our round the world trip when she turned one!
May 2009 – Lola was born.
July 2010 – Proposed date for travelling the world…
July 2010 – Lincoln was born.
Uh, yes. That happened. As it does in life, particularly ours, our plans were discarded like a used diaper. Out with the old and in with the new, a beautiful bouncing baby boy and a fourteen month old big sister. We had gone from travelling the world to creating our own world in which we were wrung out, sleep deprived, messes of human beings, just trying to make it to another day. Not exactly what we had envisaged, but our cards had been dealt and we played the hand as best we could, always looking forwards and upwards, (when we weren’t crying with our heads in our hands that is) waiting for a time we knew we could drag an active, accident prone little boy and his calm and accommodating big sister on an adventure of a life time.
14 month old Lola meeting her baby brother for the first time.
The truth of it is that for the first two years of having two kids, it was just about survival. Not only had we doubled the size of our family within fourteen months, we also threw buying a new house and starting our own business into the mix. Not something I would ever recommend to anybody, ever. The earth continued to turn however, despite my being stuck in a deluge of diapers and tantrums, and finally we started to see the light. Lola turned four and as Lincoln neared three he became rather more manageable than he had been as a feisty toddler. His tantrums became less and we suddenly thought; this child is capable of sitting in an aeroplane for twelve hours without trying to pull the emergency exit lever because it’s red and shiny and hell, why am I saying that, he never needs a reason to do outrageous things! He tripped over everything, including his own feet, fell backwards down stairs he always knew were there, took nose dives, managed to cut his face open on anything that wasn’t wrapped in cotton wool, but that’s no reason to keep us all home. Why don’t we let him do that somewhere we’ve never been. So the epic planning commenced.
We started by looking at our calendar and finding the only time between big events when we could be away. We had a six-month window, which happened to fall between October and March. What started out as a round the world trip, was quickly modified into something more plausible in the time we had. We decided to pick a continent, or more specifically, we thought about places we would love to go given the weather at that time of year. We didn’t pick the place we wanted to go to the most, or I would have ended up sightseeing Europe in the snow and freezing cold with three less than happy travel companions, and Shaun would have ended up backpacking myself and two kids through South American jungle at its hottest. Thus there were a number of reasons why we chose North America:
1. It was the only place Shaun and I could agree on.
2. We could see incredible cities and awe-inspiring national parks.
3. Depending on how we angled it; both challenging for the kids, but also very kid friendly.
4. I could have a hot beach holiday and Shaun could ski – two essential elements, one continent.
5. It was the only place Shaun and I could agree on!
All the decision making happened in July 2013. With a trip two months away, we launched into the frantic planning. Thanks to Google Maps, Yelp and Trip Advisor, no maps or guide books were necessary, literally folks, my unwavering gratitude! Planning travel in the twenty-first century must be a gentle scotch mist in comparison to our predecessors’ torrential downpour of an event. We literally had to book our flights, and the rest we could have done on the fly, I mean, we kind of did. We booked our only large blocks of accommodation before we left; New York, Mexico and skiing over Christmas, and the rest of the time we played it by ear, staying slightly longer in some places and dodging other places all together in lieu of some wonderful off the beaten track place we heard of from fellow travellers or Americans who have made a habit of exploring their country. I mean we had a plan, we chose our route based on the cities and national parks we wanted to see, but we let ourselves drift off course because this was an adventure after all. Nothing like a bit of deviation to spell “I’m on holiday and I can do what I want to”!
What our final route looked like. 5 months. 24 000km’s.
To fill you in on the hows, I’m going to have to correct that last sentence, it wasn’t exactly a ‘holiday’, ‘adventure’ would be the more accurate word. The background info you need here is that Shaun is an electrical engineer turned software developer. He is a coding genius. With all that genius-ness floating around his head coupled with his greatest desire – to spend more time with his family and actually participate in his children’s everyday lives, he decided he needed to untangle himself from the irritable bowels of money clogged corporates. This was one of the best things we ever did. With less than ideal timing, we managed to pull it off, successfully creating Customised Applications, a company designing and constructing apps for phones and tablets. This is the sole reason we were able to travel for 6 months.
By our working, we would either have had to save up for years in order to afford a trip of this kind, or we would have to take our working on the road with us. Being far less saving savvy than we should be, we knew our only option was to work, so that is exactly what we did.
Shaun. Headphones. Computer. (Mexico)
With careful planning, an uncanny ability to block out the world, and time management skills that I yearn for, Shaun was able to pop on his headphones no matter where we were and disappear into his own world of coding and design. While this worked very well when everything was running smoothly, when the company hit speed bumps and corners (which it was bound to do while we were away), it caused ripples that had serious repercussions on our side. We would be in a new city, with hundreds of things we wanted to see and Shaun would have to put out fires, sometimes not leaving our apartment or hotel for two or three days at a time. Sometimes conducting business calls in the middle of the night, in the bathroom, because we were in a one room hotel and it was below freezing outside. Things certainly weren’t always ideal, and we had days, in fact weeks, where juggling it all was almost too much for us to handle. But somehow we always pulled through, made it through the tough days and onto brighter ones where skiing, sightseeing or exploring America’s extreme backyard made the trip worthwhile again. We were fully aware that without Shaun’s ability to work abroad, a trip of this kind would never have been possible. So we endured the tumultuous waters, and focussed on the days when the sun shone down and the waters were smooth.
With the gift of hindsight, there are many things we could have, should have perhaps, done differently. But half the beauty of our trip was the way in which we did it. We never took no for an answer (well almost never), we pushed ahead when seemingly everything was against us and we learned through sleepless nights and days of tears how sticking to your guns and doing what you yearn to do is possible, not always easy, but worth every glistening tear you shed. Until you realise that it isn’t, and then you know the time has come for you to go home.
Life doesn’t always go the way you planned, there are undoubtedly more obstacles than you anticipate, but there are also joys you don’t anticipate too. Travelling with our children forced us to do things slightly differently, not much, but there were obviously a few things. But by doubling the size of our family, we also doubled the size of our joy; there is nothing as amazing as seeing the world through your children’s innocent, enthusiastic eyes! They pushed us to experience more, as we pushed them as far as their little legs would go. We grew as a family in a way that we could never have at home. Persevering with our travel plans through not just one but two children, didn’t just give us the satisfaction of showing the naysayers we could, it showed us how strong we are, (maybe obstinate is the more appropriate word) and forged roots that can only build our family stronger.
That’s right, I’ve just likened myself to a deer. If you know me well, you would know I am almost nothing like a deer. I certainly cannot jump, my pelt is rather more white than brown, and my hooves lack a distinct lightness of step. I do however enjoy the freedom of an open plane, grasslands where you can roam uninhibited, streams with crystal cool water to frolic in, winding your way through an indigenous forest, nothing but nature around you for miles in every direction. I realise how this sounds, and yes I have a four year old daughter, and yes I’ve watched Bambi more times than I can count, but I have also just had six months of freedom, six months of running in which ever direction I chose.
Being home, and engrossed in daily life, has highlighted my confinement. The adjustment period needed to integrate me back into ‘normal’ life is overwhelmingly more complex than I anticipated. As doe-eyed as you might think I am, I didn’t foresee this complication, a feeling of hovering above life, but not quite in it. Everyday I wake up in the same house, and face much the same day as the one before. The routine I so longed for while we were travelling is now here and has taken hold of me like the teeth of a snare. As unpleasant as that sounds, I don’t dislike my life or my routine. What I dislike is that I don’t have the option to head into the hills with my family and hike until we all fall over, that we can’t all climb into a car and drive hundreds of kilometres talking nonsense and laughing, reading each other novels while the children sleep, and trying to formulate the strangest noises we can while passing the tedious hours strapped to a chair. Heading to a new ‘home’ every few days was exhausting, but it also gave us the opportunity to live like locals in a foreign city and visit sights I had only seen in movies and National Geographic magazines. As tiring as living like that was, I felt like we were living, really experiencing life.
I never really understood the idea of being bitten by the travel bug. I couldn’t understand a person’s desire to sit for hours on a plane, travel in sticky public transport and sleep in uncomfortable beds. Being in a breath-taking place, I totally get, but I never thought the route getting there was worth it. I’ve only recently come to realise that being bitten by the travel bug means you are entirely willing to tweak (read ‘unhinge’) your comfort levels, that seeing new things everyday, things that change your frame of reference and adjust your previous ideas about a place, a group of people, or a whole nation, is worth its weight in sweaty public transportation.When we arrived back from the States I was happy to give travelling the old boot for at least the next ten years. After a week, I had changed my mind enough to be planning an epic trip for the end of the year. I now find myself chomping at the bit, spurring my iron horse on so we can rake in more colourful notes that will procure our passage to ever more far off lands.
If mind reading was possible in a blog, you would all know I say the above with my heels dug firmly into Capetonian soil. I have never felt more at home and more in love with my city. The bug that has bitten me seems to be one most profoundly addicted to spending quality time with my family, in a place where time has less of a hold on us. In many ways I feel torn. Pandora’s box that was cracked open on our travels has without a doubt left me feeling wanting. My only consolation is that wanting time with my family in a place we can all learn and grow, are both great things to want. I also know that the minute we have left Cape Town behind us, my heart will feel wrenched from my chest, securely chained to the mountain and white sandy beaches we’re leaving behind. How have these complexities of life and adulthood crept up on me? I could have sworn I knew it all when I was eighteen, and it was far simpler than this.
Sometimes growing up blows. Sometimes the more you realise about yourself the harder life becomes. But sometimes, just sometimes, realisation can be beautiful. Knowing where you belong in the world is a precious gift far too few people have experienced. Knowing that place will always be there, no matter how far you stray from it, however painful it may be, gives you a foundation of strength and a centre of love to radiate from. Exploring the world and all its magnificence is extreme! It offers you everything: a view inside your soul, a view inside the others travelling with you, a glimpse into the past and the future, an appreciation or an abhorrence, a perspective where previously there was only narrow mindedness. It offers understanding, while at the same time shrouding you in confusion and doubt. It broadens every facet of thought you have ever had, offering so much more to your life and your soul than you thought possible while cuddled in cotton-wool at home sipping expensive local wines complaining about your lack of promotion and the increase in the fuel price. Life is so much bigger, so much more.
I love my home, I love my routine, God knows I love my bed, but some comforts are worth sacrificing for edification and an epic family adventure. Maybe the lesson is that I don’t need to reintegrate. Maybe I can continue to feel like Bambi caged up in a zoo. Maybe that niggling feeling will be what helps us grab every day, make the most of our time at home, while dreaming of the ambitious adventures that lie ahead… may there be many. Bring on the niggles! Xx
My little family 🙂
After spending five months travelling the States in temperatures as low as negative forty degrees – two 31 year old children, two pre-school children, ten bags, two bikes, two scooters, an office-in-a-laptop-bag, mounds of ski gear and an SUV later; packing us up to travel east along the South African coast line was a breeze. Okay, packing is never a breeze, but it was lying on a tropical beach sipping margaritas in comparison.
South Africa’s ‘Garden Route’ has always been praised as one of the most beautiful areas of South Africa. I have never debated it, not for a moment, because the lush green hills and mulchy fern covered forests are beautiful, no, magnificent! You cannot help but breath the peace into your lungs and soak the earth in through your skin. Simply driving along the highway can fill you with a sense of clam like no other road I’ve been on, and I’ve been on a lot of road. Surrounded by indigenous trees green enough to still the busiest mind, you find your eyes constantly gazing off to the hills in the distance, or this is what I’ve found myself doing in the past, on the countless times I’ve been privileged enough to travel that road. On this most recent occasion, I found myself gaping in wonder. What I had always looked at with appreciation and fondness; the lovely hills that accompany you along a large section of the road, were now seen through new eyes, eyes that could see more, appreciate more.
The ‘hills’ of the Eastern Cape are in fact big mountains! I know this because after travelling the States and being less than adequately compensated on many occasions with views which had been raved about, only to find that the “Incredible mountains” in many regions were no more than masses of rolling hills dotted by the occasional larger hill, has left me with a true appreciation for what lies in my own back yard. The mountains that bend and curve alongside the highway, gliding upwards into delicate peaks as they meander their way along the coastline with the grace of a thousand swans, are now seen in the light they should be; truly superb!
Lola and Lincoln running on Main beach in Plett, with the Cape Fold Mountains in the distance.
I struggle to digest my previous nonchalant attitude towards countryside that should be revered. Africa can capture your soul and hold you in its grasp in a way I didn’t know was possible, even though I have often heard tourists comment on it during their frequently recurring trips to our country. South Africa is revered, but I think only truly appreciated by those who have seen more. I feel like perspective should somehow be incorporated into schooling, not just to show us what we have in this country, but to open our eyes to everything we have. I have learned that perspective is the only way to sincerely appreciate anything, but this has taken me a good 30 years and traversing the entire United States to learn.
The abundance of beauty in South Africa is beyond words, there is little you could want and not find in our country, and I am embarrassed to say that I didn’t appreciate this the way I should have as a privileged child growing up, and holidaying, in exquisite areas of South Africa. A large portion of our country, appreciated by some, but simply ignored as a tourist destination by so many of its own people, has more splendour to offer than some of the most talked about National Parks in the US. Maybe we need to get promoting our own country to our own people, or maybe like me, it will take seeing another ‘better’ place, before a grey filter is lifted from their eyes, as their plane touches back down on seemingly unsophisticated, yet deeply rich, African soil.
What I didn’t expect when I took the kids out of school last year to travel the US for six months, was that I wouldn’t want to send them back when we got home. I find myself in a strange position of late, a monologue debate if you will, fighting both sides of the issue.
When we left last year I was in a wonderful space. The kids were both in nursery school in the morning. This afforded me the time to tackle my list of things to do, get work done, exercise, have coffee with a friend, do the grocery shopping, any number of things that it is easier to do without children, particularly a three and four year old hell bent on turning my previously youthful self into someone looking more like a middle aged mother with each passing day. And then we decided to pack it up and jet the four of us off to the States. Looking back, this was the best thing we have ever done.
I was in no doubt when we left South Africa that having the children with us all day, and all night, every day for six months was going to be a challenge, especially when Shaun and I had got into the very good habit of having a date night once a week, and making time for each other as much as we could in amongst our busy lives. Suddenly faced with no date nights and no nursery school was a daunting image. I write this knowing how ridiculous it must sound to people who don’t have children. I mean why wouldn’t we want to spend all day and all night with our spawn, right? I also write this with the knowledge that parents with grown children often long for the days when the kids were young and innocent, little sponges walking around absorbing details about the world that grown-ups take completely for granted.
Well, what I realised during our travels is that it needn’t have been as daunting as we, or maybe I, had thought. Our little sponges walked around with us doing exactly that, absorbing the world. They were energetic, happy, bouncy, sometimes tired and grumpy, but usually incredible three and four year olds. There is nothing more we could have asked of them, and I know with every fibre of my being how much they loved spending every day and every night with us. We were theirs entirely.
I will freely admit that I didn’t fully appreciate before we left, just how much I would come to treasure this time as a family, possibly, no, definitely more so than actually travelling the States. We have been asked so many times, “What was your favourite part?” and my honest answer, is having that incredible time with my family. Seeing all the things we saw, and being in some of the most epic places definitely gave our trip a sense of purpose and wonderment, but I think the true beauty of those five months for me was watching my children grow and learn, taking in their world, and being able to shape each day the way we wanted to. We had no nursery school we had to be at, no after school activities and no meetings (this isn’t entirely true of Shaun and Skype, but the kids and I escaped it). Sure we had daily survival basics, grocery shopping, and other mundane life tasks, budgeting, finding accommodation, many of which were stressful make no mistake, but each day was ours to throw ourselves into, either with barrels of laughter and energy, or with pyjamas and a mug of hot chocolate. I can’t imagine not having had this time with them, it is such an important age, an age when their reasoning is shaped, their logic formed and ideas of who they are and how they fit into the world expanded. It is an incredible blessing to have been given this time with them, so completely and without reserve. I really do know how lucky I am.
I think the early years with my children left me a little scared, a little scarred even. Having two kids fourteen months apart and no family around to help left its mark. Shaun and I were worn flat for many months, it took more than a lot out of us, as any parent of a baby can attest. Each day was a survival to get to the next… but now here we are! An incredible age of wonder and joy, from not just one child but two. I can say without hesitation that children bring joy, and loads of it! Sure the first few years can be backbreaking work, but the rewards when you can start enjoying the world with your children, seeing things through their fresh, untainted eyes, and feeding off the endless joy and giggles that seem to spill from every corner of the house, answering questions you haven’t thought about possibly since you were their age, and being challenged on your ‘truths’ … it is magnificent!
The brilliance of the past six months is going to be hard to let go of, giving my children over to a school system I don’t control, and being ruled by a time that I cannot mold, carries weight over me. Had I not just experienced my last six months, I would know no different, but I feel like a secret box of wonder has been shown to me. While I have never been against homeschooling, I have also never felt I had what it takes to see it through. Maybe at this age I am allowed to embrace every moment with them and not feel like I am depriving them of the schooling system, there is time for all that. I find myself revisiting my capabilities as a mother and shaper of my children’s world. I don’t known yet what the next while holds for us, and maybe our path will be more or less dictated for us, but it is great to be able to see my children’s education in a different light. These last six months have truly opened my eyes, and filled my heart to overflowing.
