We've had the loveliest day. This place is soo mellow. No one hassles you to buy stuff. When you look at things, there are no cries of "I give you good price! What price you pay?" Instead these gorgeous Tibetans simply smile and say "Thank you," They thank us for looking at their wares. Such a far cry from the rest of India.
We strolled down incredibly steep streets, stopping for fresh juice and popcorn. The views are stunning. The vibe is shanti. We're loving it! Kunsang was right with his theory - we weren't cold at all! In fact we were all completely overdressed and as we climbed back up the hill we were dripping with sweat! Seriously good exercise, walking round McLeod. You can feel calf burn in your legs!
We came home and had lunch on our terrace. It's really liberating to be able to cook for ourselves - I won't be saying that when I get back home, I'm sure!
Freya and I went and did yoga with this hilarious guy called Om. She did so brilliantly to keep a straight face. We began with some intense yoga breathing techniques with Om telling us to, "Focus your mind. Yoga class time is tension completely gone time. It is happy feel, relax feel, enjoy feel,"
I couldn't look at Freya for fear of giggling, but she took it all seriously. The class was fairly gentle, with a little too much lying down for me, but man, could Om do some crazy things with his body!
We met up with the others for another gorgeous meal, before heading over via the sweet stall on the corner of our road. The kids finally got some chocolate and Hamish continued with our unsuccessful pursuit of fresh milk for Martha. We've had a wild goose chase with people telling us we can buy it here, there and somewhere else. Great result tonight though! Hamish got chatting to the owner of the stall, Ragesh, who has agreed to bring us a litre of milk tomorrow morning from his own cow. "Now that's what I call fresh!" yelled Gus.
Freya has just made her first cup of tea for me, Martha is sleeping peacefully, Hamish has done a brilliant job of insulating our room and Fergus has just summed up McLeod saying, "This place is wicked. There are monks and monkeys everywhere!"
Sunday 30 January 2011
It's really very cold.
Not so sure about this place yet. I haven't been this cold at bedtime since we were trekking (oh, and perhaps when our boiler broke down last winter in a foot of snow). I lay in bed bursting for a wee but not wanting to brave the icy bathroom. There was a howling gale in the middle of the night that left poor Hamish up and down like a yoyo as he made regular checks on the kids (they hadn't wanted to lock themselves in, so despite wedging their door shut with a thin inflight magazine, we were worried that the wind would force its way in.) He also climbed up onto the roof at some unearthly hour to rescue the washing that I had hung there yesterday. I had visions of spotting clothes on distant roof tops: Martha's gorgeous cotton shirt, a prized Monsoon hand-me-down, that she's been living in, Gus' favourite (and more vitally ONLY) pair of shorts, my lovely comfy yoga pants, to name but a few.
I am now sitting in the cold light of day. I'm as close as can be to the oil fired radiator that has tried valiantly to warm our icebox through the night. Gus and Martha are sitting in bed under a mountain of blankets, watching Pink Panther and eating biscuits. This trip might have been very different without the iPad. It has bought us so much time and saved us from many difficult situations. It has been the ultimate distraction on long journeys.
Is it the essential bit of kit for a young family travelling? Of course we could have done it without it, but things mightn't have been so harmonious. They only have a couple of films on it, but it's the classic episodes of our iconic childhood cartoon that amuses them time and time again.
Hamish is now hammering thick blankets at our window in an attempt to keep in the heat. Kunsang, our gentle Buddhist host, tells me that it is all about how we think. If our brain tells us it's cold, our body's 'warming cell' shuts down and we feel even colder. If we tell ourselves we're warm, the reverse happens.
He is so very Zen. He and his wife both exude a deeply mellow and contented vibe. And boy is she strong (they both are). She's about my height and build, but she looks as though she is solid muscle - in a very soft and beautiful way, not with the harshness of a body builder. She made light work of carrying Hamish's really heavy bag up three flights of stairs.
Last night it snowed. Perhaps there is more to come. As we step outside in our kagools, can we test out the mind over matter theory?
I am now sitting in the cold light of day. I'm as close as can be to the oil fired radiator that has tried valiantly to warm our icebox through the night. Gus and Martha are sitting in bed under a mountain of blankets, watching Pink Panther and eating biscuits. This trip might have been very different without the iPad. It has bought us so much time and saved us from many difficult situations. It has been the ultimate distraction on long journeys.
Is it the essential bit of kit for a young family travelling? Of course we could have done it without it, but things mightn't have been so harmonious. They only have a couple of films on it, but it's the classic episodes of our iconic childhood cartoon that amuses them time and time again.
Hamish is now hammering thick blankets at our window in an attempt to keep in the heat. Kunsang, our gentle Buddhist host, tells me that it is all about how we think. If our brain tells us it's cold, our body's 'warming cell' shuts down and we feel even colder. If we tell ourselves we're warm, the reverse happens.
He is so very Zen. He and his wife both exude a deeply mellow and contented vibe. And boy is she strong (they both are). She's about my height and build, but she looks as though she is solid muscle - in a very soft and beautiful way, not with the harshness of a body builder. She made light work of carrying Hamish's really heavy bag up three flights of stairs.
Last night it snowed. Perhaps there is more to come. As we step outside in our kagools, can we test out the mind over matter theory?
Saturday 29 January 2011
We're in the mountains!
We're sitting on our balcony looking out over a remarkable view. McLeod Ganj spreads out before us, eagles circle on thermals at eye level, monkeys scuttle along the railings of our neighbours houses and the start of the mighty Himalaya rise up beyond it all, the ultimate snow-capped backdrop.
Our journey here was great. We dealt with New Delhi Station admirably. Freya had asked on several occasions, "Why have we got backpacks? Suitcases would've been fine," her questions were answered as, loaded to the hilt, we made our way through the madness of the station like seasoned travellers. The kids absolutely loved the overnight train. You'd have thought they were on the Orient Express! Very early this morning I opened a sleepy eye to see Gus awake, lying on his bunk looking out of the window. As dawn brought with it the most gorgeous pink sun to hang low in a misty rural landscape, he repeatedly muttered quietly to himself, "This is the most awesome thing ever,"
Getting off the train in Pathankot was such a contrast to the scene we had left behind in Delhi. It felt so chilled. We were met by Sanju, in another comfortable car and he drove us up winding mountain roads to our new home. We are staying with a lovely Tibetan family in what can only be described as a highly basic apartment. Hamish keeps saying, "It's got potential!"
It's absolutely freezing! The temperature is much like I imagine it is at home, only we have no luxuries like central heating and Hungarian goose down duvets. But hey, we've got thermals and really cool kids who just seem to notice the hardship. You know, time and time again, they amaze me with their oblivion to the grot.
It's lovely to see Tibetans again. They bring with them a beautiful peaceful vibe that is almost tangible. Infact this doesn't feel like India, well not as I know it. It is much more reminiscent of Nepal. How lucky our kids are to know this. Freya and I are going to find a yoga class and I have an urgent pull to the 'Dream Massage' I saw advertised in Nick's Italian cafe where we ate a gorgeous lunch.
Our journey here was great. We dealt with New Delhi Station admirably. Freya had asked on several occasions, "Why have we got backpacks? Suitcases would've been fine," her questions were answered as, loaded to the hilt, we made our way through the madness of the station like seasoned travellers. The kids absolutely loved the overnight train. You'd have thought they were on the Orient Express! Very early this morning I opened a sleepy eye to see Gus awake, lying on his bunk looking out of the window. As dawn brought with it the most gorgeous pink sun to hang low in a misty rural landscape, he repeatedly muttered quietly to himself, "This is the most awesome thing ever,"
Getting off the train in Pathankot was such a contrast to the scene we had left behind in Delhi. It felt so chilled. We were met by Sanju, in another comfortable car and he drove us up winding mountain roads to our new home. We are staying with a lovely Tibetan family in what can only be described as a highly basic apartment. Hamish keeps saying, "It's got potential!"
It's absolutely freezing! The temperature is much like I imagine it is at home, only we have no luxuries like central heating and Hungarian goose down duvets. But hey, we've got thermals and really cool kids who just seem to notice the hardship. You know, time and time again, they amaze me with their oblivion to the grot.
It's lovely to see Tibetans again. They bring with them a beautiful peaceful vibe that is almost tangible. Infact this doesn't feel like India, well not as I know it. It is much more reminiscent of Nepal. How lucky our kids are to know this. Freya and I are going to find a yoga class and I have an urgent pull to the 'Dream Massage' I saw advertised in Nick's Italian cafe where we ate a gorgeous lunch.
Moving on...
So, our last day in Rajasthan. As I write, we are cruising along a fairly smooth road, the sun is hot and we are glad of the air con. Mo Shanti is the soundtrack to our journey. The girls are asleep in the back and Gus, poor thing is concentrating on not being ill. After a night in or near Jaipur, we arrive back in Delhi tomorrow and say goodbye to Gansham and his lovely car. He will take us to the train station where will experience our first taste of public transport with the kids. Already we have acquired extra bags from all that shopping!
We will take the overnight train up to the mountains. I'm not sure how that will be. I try not to think about my friend Laura's experience of a sleeper train when her son fell from the top bunk. In her case she was lucky enough to catch him. It would be very boring to arrive in Pathankot with broken bones.
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We've arrived in our most expensive and possibly grottiest hotel. It's on the road from Jaipur to Delhi. To be honest it's such a relief to get out of the car. We've sat in terrible traffic for what seems like hours. Trucks are not allowed into Delhi before 9pm which means that early evening on a major tributary into the city, is one long truckfest. The kids have amazed me once more. There hasn't been a single complaint or vague grumble today. On past experience though, does this mean we're in for a shocker tomorrow? There's a 3 hour drive followed by the overnight train up to the mountains. Sounds pretty grim, huh?
We will take the overnight train up to the mountains. I'm not sure how that will be. I try not to think about my friend Laura's experience of a sleeper train when her son fell from the top bunk. In her case she was lucky enough to catch him. It would be very boring to arrive in Pathankot with broken bones.
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We've arrived in our most expensive and possibly grottiest hotel. It's on the road from Jaipur to Delhi. To be honest it's such a relief to get out of the car. We've sat in terrible traffic for what seems like hours. Trucks are not allowed into Delhi before 9pm which means that early evening on a major tributary into the city, is one long truckfest. The kids have amazed me once more. There hasn't been a single complaint or vague grumble today. On past experience though, does this mean we're in for a shocker tomorrow? There's a 3 hour drive followed by the overnight train up to the mountains. Sounds pretty grim, huh?
Wednesday 26 January 2011
A late night thought from Pushkar
There have been moments on this trip where I have questioned our motivation. For us, it's not just about 'seeing' India. It's about our relationship with the place. I have wondered at times if we can actually share that with our kids. They live so much in the moment and seem oblivious to much of the stuff that sends my mind reeling. When we took them to places in Parhaganj, places that we had described to them with such passion, I realised that we had seen that through the eyes of backpackers. Now, seeing them through the eyes of a mother, it's a whole new picture. I've worried that walking along the streets of Pushkar (one of my most favourite past times in the world) is actually really full on for them. That restaurants that were cool hippy hangouts for us, might seem grotty to them. But it's not. They are charmed by it too, but for completely different reasons! Gus has bought himself a Rajput turban which he wears around the place. Freya gives the air of someone who has travelled for years, and Martha, well, she's as at home here as anywhere in the world. She skips and hops and sings her way through the madness!
Sisterhood in India
I've finally tapped into it. Always before I've struggled to find a sense of camaraderie between me and the Indian women. There have been times in previous trips were something rubbish has happened and I felt let down by the women around me. I was greeted with dismissal or without recognition. As a Westerner with the freedom and the financial means to travel, I was unfathomable. But now, as a mother, I am the same. Women everywhere make eye contact with me and exchange knowing looks. As I left the Rat Temple the other day with Martha crying in my arms, every woman I passed looked and smiled in sympathy or simply nodded with understanding that I was dealing with a difficult moment. It's lovely. I realise now how much it has bothered me previously.
In the past all my friendships I have made with the locals have been with men. On this trip, I hope I will learn to understand more what it is to be born a woman in India.
In the past all my friendships I have made with the locals have been with men. On this trip, I hope I will learn to understand more what it is to be born a woman in India.
Hurray for Pushkar!
Today has been FANTASTIC! Our best day yet. We began with breakfast on the roof - we didn't like the restaurant, the sun was shining and the view s beautiful, so we asked to go out there. They couldn't have been happier to move out a table for us. I felt as though we were in an advert for Alpen or something. The kids ran up down the roof terrace with this incredible back drop, and the we all sat and watched the boy who helped bring our bags in galloping the horse around the field next to us. He's training him to rear up. It looks like a lot of fun.
We then wondered into town. We went down to the ghats along the lake and Hamish and I did puja, a strange ritual that involves chanting, placing petals into the lake and blessing your family. The kids watched, fascinated. Even Martha.
Freya used the holy water, thought to heal and purify the soul, to wash some cow poo off her foot, and then we walked along the main bizarre. It's still as much a shopper's paradise as it was a decade ago. So much gorgeous stuff, I didn't know where to look.
We found ourselves some treasures and then bought food supplies for our camel trek into the desert.
It was so brilliant. To think, yesterday we arrived here feeling tired, fed up and disappointed. Less than 24 hours later we were returning to our hotel on camels (or in Martha's case, asleep like a medieval princess aboad a sumptuous cart underneath her own decorated canopy) having ridden out to watch the sun set on Rajasthan, as we practised our latest sport, dune running.
I couldn't quite believe it. To be riding a camel next to Hamish in the desert felt so familiar, having spent two long days doing the same on our last visit. But to look around and see my three amazing kids by our side, well, it was something else. They were all equally enchanted by the experience.
It was the stuff of dreams...
I am now officially loving being back here in Pushkar. We all are.
We then wondered into town. We went down to the ghats along the lake and Hamish and I did puja, a strange ritual that involves chanting, placing petals into the lake and blessing your family. The kids watched, fascinated. Even Martha.
Freya used the holy water, thought to heal and purify the soul, to wash some cow poo off her foot, and then we walked along the main bizarre. It's still as much a shopper's paradise as it was a decade ago. So much gorgeous stuff, I didn't know where to look.
We found ourselves some treasures and then bought food supplies for our camel trek into the desert.
It was so brilliant. To think, yesterday we arrived here feeling tired, fed up and disappointed. Less than 24 hours later we were returning to our hotel on camels (or in Martha's case, asleep like a medieval princess aboad a sumptuous cart underneath her own decorated canopy) having ridden out to watch the sun set on Rajasthan, as we practised our latest sport, dune running.
I couldn't quite believe it. To be riding a camel next to Hamish in the desert felt so familiar, having spent two long days doing the same on our last visit. But to look around and see my three amazing kids by our side, well, it was something else. They were all equally enchanted by the experience.
It was the stuff of dreams...
I am now officially loving being back here in Pushkar. We all are.
Things have gone pear shaped.
Leaving Bikaner was truly awful. We are all feeling utterly deflated. The magic of India has evaded us today. Well, at least since we left our beloved Bhairon Vilas. After saying how brilliantly the kids had travelled, it all feel apart. Gus moaned for the entire length of the five hour journey and even freya had lost her patience. Pushkar greeted us with chaos at sunset. The hotel that we had planned to stay in, which had been lovely 10 years ago, doesn't look like it's been cleaned since we left.
We have ended up in a place recommended by Gansham. The hotel is new and the rooms are completely fine, but it's not what we've so quickly grown used to.
Everyone is protesting in their own way. Martha is behaving horribly; Freya and Fergus have bickered so much that we're separating them tonight. We're having and girls' room with the boys next door.
It was all going so swimmingly. Freya has decided today that she doesn't like travelling. Please don't say she's destined for a lifetime of package holidays! Hamish is grumpy because he's cross with himself. He had such grand plans for our tour of Rajasthan. Any mother I know could've told him it was never going to work. But he had to find that out for himself. He has such a love of history and culture and architecture. Just not hot topics for kids! Although having said that freya did have an awesome history lesson as she lay in bed last night and he explained all about Gandhi.
We have ended up in a place recommended by Gansham. The hotel is new and the rooms are completely fine, but it's not what we've so quickly grown used to.
Everyone is protesting in their own way. Martha is behaving horribly; Freya and Fergus have bickered so much that we're separating them tonight. We're having and girls' room with the boys next door.
It was all going so swimmingly. Freya has decided today that she doesn't like travelling. Please don't say she's destined for a lifetime of package holidays! Hamish is grumpy because he's cross with himself. He had such grand plans for our tour of Rajasthan. Any mother I know could've told him it was never going to work. But he had to find that out for himself. He has such a love of history and culture and architecture. Just not hot topics for kids! Although having said that freya did have an awesome history lesson as she lay in bed last night and he explained all about Gandhi.
We're getting there!
Day 5
Boy have we come a long way! And I'm not talking about the 473km we covered yesterday on our epic 11 hour journey that took us out of the insanity that is India's capital city through rural villages, ramshackle towns and miles of desert.
I have been absolutely blown away by my kids. They've been utterly amazing. Not one of them complained yesterday, even though the drive was long, at times boring, and seemingly never ending. When I think about the journey up to my parents from our house, I think of it as a three and a half hour grueller. Not any more!
Looking back on what I have written, I realise how quickly the kids have adapted. No one mentions the dirt any more, they've stopped talking about home, except Martha who still asks,"Can I go to Nell's for tea?"
"Yes," I reply, "when we get home,"
"Yippee!" she says. And that's it.
None of them ask for food from home. They are just living in the moment. It's brilliant.
We arrived last night in Bikaner a fortress town in the north of Rajasthan. We have lucked out big time with our hotel. We are staying in a former royal residence, owned by the very funky cousin of the maharaja. Our room is to die for. It's enormous, at least half the size of our entire house. We have three sets of double doors dressed in rich green silk curtains, that match our positively sumptuous sofa and chairs. The huge brass bed is draped in a sparkly fabrics and silk cushions, and the bedhead is adorned with antique saris. The walls are a deep pink, and hanging proudly above the marble fire place is a life size painting of some royal dude. There are mirrors in laid in plaster work all around this splendid room with the most beautiful windows intricately carved out of stone set high above the doors.
And then there's the bathroom! You step through more heavy silk curtains, open the doors and you find yourself in this gorgeous white space with a sunken bath that all the kids can fit into. It's big enough to host a party in it! (As I'm writing this, Freya has the Black Eyed Peas blasting out of the iPod - don't suppose these walls have heard the likes before!)
We have acres of space outside. Gorgeous gardens surround us with the mighty fort of Bikaner casting it's shadow over us in the afternoon. We had a really mellow morning hanging out in the warm sunshine (feels like early May in England), Gus kicking his football around, Freya reading a book on the swing seat on the verandah and Martha bathing her dolls in a bucket of water. Only slight cause for concern I had was looking up to see her polishing off a jugful of said water and licking her lips. We've obviously relaxed with the whole germ, illness thing, and so far she seems fine!
We've had a fantastic afternoon visiting the fort which is truly awesome. The kids were great and even Martha is now getting quite used to having her photo taken. She's stopped hiding behind her rabbit and is now posing comfortably with the other two. From there we went to visit the state camel farm, watched a herd coming from the desert for their evening feed, had a ride in a camel cart and then the kids ate camel milk ice cream and Hamish drank tea made with it. Yuk. I did not partake! But they all enjoyed it. We then finished the afternoon off with a trip to a nearby rat temple. The rodents are thought to be reincarnated souls saved from the wrath of Yama, the god of death. Pretty bizarre I've got to say. Rats scurrying around at high speed. All quite Indiana Jones. There are big clusters of them drinking from bowls of milk given to them by e devotees. Apparently it's good luck if one runs over your foot. It didn't seem like it was going to be lucky to me, so I was delighted to have the excuse of Martha not liking the rats to leave early and go and sit in the car with Gamsham. Whilst we were waiting for the others, we saw a very impressive wedding party leaving the temple where they had been for their blessing. The groom was in an elaborate cream suit with a Rajput turban, the bride and all her female family were dressed in red saris covered in much golden embroidery. Both bride and groom had detailed henna on both their hands and feet.
We're now bathing, chilling and generally loving hanging out in our spectacular home before stepping outside to have dinner in the garden next to out very own fire.
This place trounces the Lake Palace Hotel in Udaipur.
It's going to be really tough to say goodbye to the Bhairon Villa. It's worth coming all this way just to stay here.
Boy have we come a long way! And I'm not talking about the 473km we covered yesterday on our epic 11 hour journey that took us out of the insanity that is India's capital city through rural villages, ramshackle towns and miles of desert.
I have been absolutely blown away by my kids. They've been utterly amazing. Not one of them complained yesterday, even though the drive was long, at times boring, and seemingly never ending. When I think about the journey up to my parents from our house, I think of it as a three and a half hour grueller. Not any more!
Looking back on what I have written, I realise how quickly the kids have adapted. No one mentions the dirt any more, they've stopped talking about home, except Martha who still asks,"Can I go to Nell's for tea?"
"Yes," I reply, "when we get home,"
"Yippee!" she says. And that's it.
None of them ask for food from home. They are just living in the moment. It's brilliant.
We arrived last night in Bikaner a fortress town in the north of Rajasthan. We have lucked out big time with our hotel. We are staying in a former royal residence, owned by the very funky cousin of the maharaja. Our room is to die for. It's enormous, at least half the size of our entire house. We have three sets of double doors dressed in rich green silk curtains, that match our positively sumptuous sofa and chairs. The huge brass bed is draped in a sparkly fabrics and silk cushions, and the bedhead is adorned with antique saris. The walls are a deep pink, and hanging proudly above the marble fire place is a life size painting of some royal dude. There are mirrors in laid in plaster work all around this splendid room with the most beautiful windows intricately carved out of stone set high above the doors.
And then there's the bathroom! You step through more heavy silk curtains, open the doors and you find yourself in this gorgeous white space with a sunken bath that all the kids can fit into. It's big enough to host a party in it! (As I'm writing this, Freya has the Black Eyed Peas blasting out of the iPod - don't suppose these walls have heard the likes before!)
We have acres of space outside. Gorgeous gardens surround us with the mighty fort of Bikaner casting it's shadow over us in the afternoon. We had a really mellow morning hanging out in the warm sunshine (feels like early May in England), Gus kicking his football around, Freya reading a book on the swing seat on the verandah and Martha bathing her dolls in a bucket of water. Only slight cause for concern I had was looking up to see her polishing off a jugful of said water and licking her lips. We've obviously relaxed with the whole germ, illness thing, and so far she seems fine!
We've had a fantastic afternoon visiting the fort which is truly awesome. The kids were great and even Martha is now getting quite used to having her photo taken. She's stopped hiding behind her rabbit and is now posing comfortably with the other two. From there we went to visit the state camel farm, watched a herd coming from the desert for their evening feed, had a ride in a camel cart and then the kids ate camel milk ice cream and Hamish drank tea made with it. Yuk. I did not partake! But they all enjoyed it. We then finished the afternoon off with a trip to a nearby rat temple. The rodents are thought to be reincarnated souls saved from the wrath of Yama, the god of death. Pretty bizarre I've got to say. Rats scurrying around at high speed. All quite Indiana Jones. There are big clusters of them drinking from bowls of milk given to them by e devotees. Apparently it's good luck if one runs over your foot. It didn't seem like it was going to be lucky to me, so I was delighted to have the excuse of Martha not liking the rats to leave early and go and sit in the car with Gamsham. Whilst we were waiting for the others, we saw a very impressive wedding party leaving the temple where they had been for their blessing. The groom was in an elaborate cream suit with a Rajput turban, the bride and all her female family were dressed in red saris covered in much golden embroidery. Both bride and groom had detailed henna on both their hands and feet.
We're now bathing, chilling and generally loving hanging out in our spectacular home before stepping outside to have dinner in the garden next to out very own fire.
This place trounces the Lake Palace Hotel in Udaipur.
It's going to be really tough to say goodbye to the Bhairon Villa. It's worth coming all this way just to stay here.
This is all a bit tricky...
The challenge of being a family in India!
By choosing to put ourselves in this situation, we have placed several obstacles in our way. The most pressing hurdle we face right now is keeping the peace whilst being confined to a hotel room for too long. We're also struggling to sleep as we' still working on different time scale. We have no milk for Martha who is a total milk fiend, as she doesn't like the taste of it here. She's very limited with what she'll eat - she is at home too at the best of times, so we'll how that pans out. Gus is missing his friends."I wish now I was at Luke's," he muttered quietly as he builti)£.o,oj'"£,oj some Lego this morning.
There are frustrations for us too. I've been in Delhi for two days and done NO SHOPPING! Hamish and I can't go out for dinner or even a drink on our own.
When I watched the Channel 4 programme 'My Family's Crazy Gap Year' I was particularly struck by the story of the family who sailed to Australia with two kids under five. At first I thought they just insane. But as their journey unfurled, I watched them change. The kids were super hectic at first. Tumbling around like tiger cubs. Then they started to chill out, becoming more mellow. As I watched my kids doing the tiger cub thing, I wonder when, or if, we'll reach the mellow stage.
This journey is as much about sharing the delights of India with our kids as it is about us learning to live together as a unit, without the external distractions of friends, school, work and hobbies.
Martha (as I'm sure I keep saying!) is of course the biggest challenge. This whole experience would be completely different without her. Freya and Fergus are now old enough to occupy themselves for long periods of time, reading books, playing on the dreaded DS, watching a film or playing cards. But martha's attention span is so much shorter. She was brilliant yesterday, they all were, but then she fell asleep in the restaurant and it all went horribly wrong. She was up until nearly midnight whilst the rest of us were desperate to sleep. And now, trying to plan out final day in Delhi, it's all about keeping her awake.
Tomorrow we embark on a big trip into Rajasthan, covering many miles, taking us into the desert, to visit palaces and forts, and to ride on camels. Yesterday the kids were lucky enough to ride on an elephant around Gandhi's Memorial Park. Martha, understandably (it was enormous!) refused but said, "I'm going on a camel," Let's hope so!
Anyway Freya and I are off to buy provisions for our trip, whilst Hamish takes the other two to a sports shop in Connaught Place to buy cricket gear and a football. We've decided to knock the train on the head, plumbing for the more expensive option of hiring a car and a driver. They'll be plenty of opportunities later on to revel in the joys of public transport! Freya also wants to go and buy some Indian clothes so "she doesn't look like a tourist". What she means, I think, is that she wants to look like Milly (her uber cool cousin who came here last year on her gap year) did when she came back from travelling.
Let's shop! At last! Parhaganj awaits! Bindis, bracelets, bags and sparkly stuff galore!
By choosing to put ourselves in this situation, we have placed several obstacles in our way. The most pressing hurdle we face right now is keeping the peace whilst being confined to a hotel room for too long. We're also struggling to sleep as we' still working on different time scale. We have no milk for Martha who is a total milk fiend, as she doesn't like the taste of it here. She's very limited with what she'll eat - she is at home too at the best of times, so we'll how that pans out. Gus is missing his friends."I wish now I was at Luke's," he muttered quietly as he builti)£.o,oj'"£,oj some Lego this morning.
There are frustrations for us too. I've been in Delhi for two days and done NO SHOPPING! Hamish and I can't go out for dinner or even a drink on our own.
When I watched the Channel 4 programme 'My Family's Crazy Gap Year' I was particularly struck by the story of the family who sailed to Australia with two kids under five. At first I thought they just insane. But as their journey unfurled, I watched them change. The kids were super hectic at first. Tumbling around like tiger cubs. Then they started to chill out, becoming more mellow. As I watched my kids doing the tiger cub thing, I wonder when, or if, we'll reach the mellow stage.
This journey is as much about sharing the delights of India with our kids as it is about us learning to live together as a unit, without the external distractions of friends, school, work and hobbies.
Martha (as I'm sure I keep saying!) is of course the biggest challenge. This whole experience would be completely different without her. Freya and Fergus are now old enough to occupy themselves for long periods of time, reading books, playing on the dreaded DS, watching a film or playing cards. But martha's attention span is so much shorter. She was brilliant yesterday, they all were, but then she fell asleep in the restaurant and it all went horribly wrong. She was up until nearly midnight whilst the rest of us were desperate to sleep. And now, trying to plan out final day in Delhi, it's all about keeping her awake.
Tomorrow we embark on a big trip into Rajasthan, covering many miles, taking us into the desert, to visit palaces and forts, and to ride on camels. Yesterday the kids were lucky enough to ride on an elephant around Gandhi's Memorial Park. Martha, understandably (it was enormous!) refused but said, "I'm going on a camel," Let's hope so!
Anyway Freya and I are off to buy provisions for our trip, whilst Hamish takes the other two to a sports shop in Connaught Place to buy cricket gear and a football. We've decided to knock the train on the head, plumbing for the more expensive option of hiring a car and a driver. They'll be plenty of opportunities later on to revel in the joys of public transport! Freya also wants to go and buy some Indian clothes so "she doesn't look like a tourist". What she means, I think, is that she wants to look like Milly (her uber cool cousin who came here last year on her gap year) did when she came back from travelling.
Let's shop! At last! Parhaganj awaits! Bindis, bracelets, bags and sparkly stuff galore!
This is all a bit tricky...
The challenge of being a family in India!
By choosing to put ourselves in this situation, we have placed several obstacles in our way. The most pressing hurdle we face right now is keeping the peace whilst being confined to a hotel room for too long. We're also struggling to sleep as we' still working on different time scale. We have no milk for Martha who is a total milk fiend, as she doesn't like the taste of it here. She's very limited with what she'll eat - she is at home too at the best of times, so we'll how that pans out. Gus is missing his friends."I wish now I was at Luke's," he muttered quietly as he builti)£.o,oj'"£,oj some Lego this morning.
There are frustrations for us too. I've been in Delhi for two days and done NO SHOPPING! Hamish and I can't go out for dinner or even a drink on our own.
When I watched the Channel 4 programme 'My Family's Crazy Gap Year' I was particularly struck by the story of the family who sailed to Australia with two kids under five. At first I thought they just insane. But as their journey unfurled, I watched them change. The kids were super hectic at first. Tumbling around like tiger cubs. Then they started to chill out, becoming more mellow. As I watched my kids doing the tiger cub thing, I wonder when, or if, we'll reach the mellow stage.
This journey is as much about sharing the delights of India with our kids as it is about us learning to live together as a unit, without the external distractions of friends, school, work and hobbies.
Martha (as I'm sure I keep saying!) is of course the biggest challenge. This whole experience would be completely different without her. Freya and Fergus are now old enough to occupy themselves for long periods of time, reading books, playing on the dreaded DS, watching a film or playing cards. But martha's attention span is so much shorter. She was brilliant yesterday, they all were, but then she fell asleep in the restaurant and it all went horribly wrong. She was up until nearly midnight whilst the rest of us were desperate to sleep. And now, trying to plan out final day in Delhi, it's all about keeping her awake.
Tomorrow we embark on a big trip into Rajasthan, covering many miles, taking us into the desert, to visit palaces and forts, and to ride on camels. Yesterday the kids were lucky enough to ride on an elephant around Gandhi's Memorial Park. Martha, understandably (it was enormous!) refused but said, "I'm going on a camel," Let's hope so!
Anyway Freya and I are off to buy provisions for our trip, whilst Hamish takes the other two to a sports shop in Connaught Place to buy cricket gear and a football. We've decided to knock the train on the head, plumbing for the more expensive option of hiring a car and a driver. They'll be plenty of opportunities later on to revel in the joys of public transport! Freya also wants to go and buy some Indian clothes so "she doesn't look like a tourist". What she means, I think, is that she wants to look like Milly (her uber cool cousin who came here last year on her gap year) did when she came back from travelling.
Let's shop! At last! Parhaganj awaits! Bindis, bracelets, bags and sparkly stuff galore!
By choosing to put ourselves in this situation, we have placed several obstacles in our way. The most pressing hurdle we face right now is keeping the peace whilst being confined to a hotel room for too long. We're also struggling to sleep as we' still working on different time scale. We have no milk for Martha who is a total milk fiend, as she doesn't like the taste of it here. She's very limited with what she'll eat - she is at home too at the best of times, so we'll how that pans out. Gus is missing his friends."I wish now I was at Luke's," he muttered quietly as he builti)£.o,oj'"£,oj some Lego this morning.
There are frustrations for us too. I've been in Delhi for two days and done NO SHOPPING! Hamish and I can't go out for dinner or even a drink on our own.
When I watched the Channel 4 programme 'My Family's Crazy Gap Year' I was particularly struck by the story of the family who sailed to Australia with two kids under five. At first I thought they just insane. But as their journey unfurled, I watched them change. The kids were super hectic at first. Tumbling around like tiger cubs. Then they started to chill out, becoming more mellow. As I watched my kids doing the tiger cub thing, I wonder when, or if, we'll reach the mellow stage.
This journey is as much about sharing the delights of India with our kids as it is about us learning to live together as a unit, without the external distractions of friends, school, work and hobbies.
Martha (as I'm sure I keep saying!) is of course the biggest challenge. This whole experience would be completely different without her. Freya and Fergus are now old enough to occupy themselves for long periods of time, reading books, playing on the dreaded DS, watching a film or playing cards. But martha's attention span is so much shorter. She was brilliant yesterday, they all were, but then she fell asleep in the restaurant and it all went horribly wrong. She was up until nearly midnight whilst the rest of us were desperate to sleep. And now, trying to plan out final day in Delhi, it's all about keeping her awake.
Tomorrow we embark on a big trip into Rajasthan, covering many miles, taking us into the desert, to visit palaces and forts, and to ride on camels. Yesterday the kids were lucky enough to ride on an elephant around Gandhi's Memorial Park. Martha, understandably (it was enormous!) refused but said, "I'm going on a camel," Let's hope so!
Anyway Freya and I are off to buy provisions for our trip, whilst Hamish takes the other two to a sports shop in Connaught Place to buy cricket gear and a football. We've decided to knock the train on the head, plumbing for the more expensive option of hiring a car and a driver. They'll be plenty of opportunities later on to revel in the joys of public transport! Freya also wants to go and buy some Indian clothes so "she doesn't look like a tourist". What she means, I think, is that she wants to look like Milly (her uber cool cousin who came here last year on her gap year) did when she came back from travelling.
Let's shop! At last! Parhaganj awaits! Bindis, bracelets, bags and sparkly stuff galore!
Sunday 23 January 2011
Day 2
This is so amazing. It's crazy enough that we're her with Freya and Fergus, but it's having Martha here that really makes the whole thing mind blowing.
It's not without it's nightmares. It's learning how to manage them that we need to do. Its been 10 years since I last travelled properly and things are staring to come back to me. Like the fact that you have to put up with really crap, boring bits in between the gorgeous bits. We need to get out of Delhi. We need somewhere with a garden, the kids need more space. Martha, as we knew she would be, is the big challenge.
Everywhere we go, people want to touch her, cuddle her and take her photo. She doesn't like it! She asks to go to Nell's house about 20 times a day.
Freya on the other hand is becoming a brilliant traveller. She sleeps really well and can read anywhere. She's beginning to realise about the hygiene situation.
Gus is pretty cool too. He's struggled to sleep at night because of all the noises, but he hasn't complained once. He just says, "Delhi is one crazy place!" and shakes his head with a smile.
We had our first brush with illness over dinner this evening. We were sitting in the smartest restaurant in Parhgange when Gus suddenly announced,"I don't feel that great. I think I'm going to be sick!"
Much drama followed as I heaved the heavy wooden table out of the way to free Gus from his corner seat. The loud scraping of furniture on the marble floor brought four waiters rushing over. Hamish leapt over Freya and together they made a swift exit in the direction of the loo. This did nothing to allay Freya's fear of germs. A few minutes later, the boys emerged looking relieved and smiling. "Turns out he just needed to burp!" explained Hamish. Phew!
It's not without it's nightmares. It's learning how to manage them that we need to do. Its been 10 years since I last travelled properly and things are staring to come back to me. Like the fact that you have to put up with really crap, boring bits in between the gorgeous bits. We need to get out of Delhi. We need somewhere with a garden, the kids need more space. Martha, as we knew she would be, is the big challenge.
Everywhere we go, people want to touch her, cuddle her and take her photo. She doesn't like it! She asks to go to Nell's house about 20 times a day.
Freya on the other hand is becoming a brilliant traveller. She sleeps really well and can read anywhere. She's beginning to realise about the hygiene situation.
Gus is pretty cool too. He's struggled to sleep at night because of all the noises, but he hasn't complained once. He just says, "Delhi is one crazy place!" and shakes his head with a smile.
We had our first brush with illness over dinner this evening. We were sitting in the smartest restaurant in Parhgange when Gus suddenly announced,"I don't feel that great. I think I'm going to be sick!"
Much drama followed as I heaved the heavy wooden table out of the way to free Gus from his corner seat. The loud scraping of furniture on the marble floor brought four waiters rushing over. Hamish leapt over Freya and together they made a swift exit in the direction of the loo. This did nothing to allay Freya's fear of germs. A few minutes later, the boys emerged looking relieved and smiling. "Turns out he just needed to burp!" explained Hamish. Phew!
Day 1
We're struggling a bit with the dirt thing. Freya's finding it all rather worrying. She doesn't trust that the glasses, cups or plates have been properly cleaned. She's really anxious about Fergus who is constantly grubbing about in mucky corners and saying, "It's OK, I washed my hands an hour ago!"
Martha is utterly filthy. She's been barefoot since the minute we got here. Delhi is really dusty. You can't help but see filth everywhere. Hamish is hassling Gus to stay clean. We're all very tired. I just hope to goodness nobody's sick tonight.
We need to get this into perspective. It's hard when your kids are involved. I've even found myself inspecting the inside of the straws that went in their lassis. How is that going to help? Martha has now fallen asleep as dirty as she's ver been.
What has this night of our first Indian full moon got in store for us?
Martha is utterly filthy. She's been barefoot since the minute we got here. Delhi is really dusty. You can't help but see filth everywhere. Hamish is hassling Gus to stay clean. We're all very tired. I just hope to goodness nobody's sick tonight.
We need to get this into perspective. It's hard when your kids are involved. I've even found myself inspecting the inside of the straws that went in their lassis. How is that going to help? Martha has now fallen asleep as dirty as she's ver been.
What has this night of our first Indian full moon got in store for us?
The journey!
I spent the day furiously packing and cleaning the house. I couldn't have done it without Sarah's help and the children out all day. My friends have been brilliant, having the kids to play. I've barely seen them. But I know that's all about to change...
We arrived at the airport in one piece, travelling fairly light. There wasn't much time for lottering. That pleasurable past time of hanging out in the departure lounge, browsing the shops, is long gone since parenthood. Instead that part of the journey is really quite stressful as you do your damnedest not to lose an excited child or any of their belongings.
Actually, if I'm honest, Hamish and I have never had that many "casually window shopping and drinking Bloody Mary's experiences". We' usually too late.
As we ran to the gate, arriving sweating, Freya was getting increasingly concerned that we'd miss the flight. "Don't worry, Honey," I reassured her, "the plane won't go without us, it's got our bags on board. This always happens to Daddy and I. It's always alright,"
We boarded the plane with me hobbling and clutching a handful of ice. I'd had the most embarrassing slapstick style wipeout as dashing to grab a sandwich from Cafe Italia, I collided at speed with the edge of a fixed metal chair. I properly face planted. I picked myself up, wondered how many fellow passengers had witnessed my clutsy performance and waited to hear laughter. Nothing. No one even gave me a second glance. If I'd seen that I'd have been in stitches.
It was as we staggered up the aisle of the plane that I first sensed that feeling of disappointment (or was it panic?) from the other passengers. "Oh no, children. Night flight to Delhi. Please don't sit by me!"
But someone had to have us next to them! As it turned out, it wasn't so bad. Martha, whom I was most apprehensive about, had a wail of a time bobbing up and down on her seat, playing peepo with the people behind us. Not sure they had such ball, but hey, it made her laugh. Till past midnight. Gus was delighted by the TV in front of him and both he and Freya were positively ecstatic when dinner was served.
We had a spare seat between us so of course our smallest traveller ended up with the most space. The Big M happily shored away, comfortably stretched out across two seats, legs akimbo, making herself thoroughly at home.
Freya did her best to sleep, like a true traveller, in horribly cramped conditions whilst Gus, having snatched a quick kip, was happy to have free rein with the screens in front of him - he alternated between the TV and his DS for far longer than he'd ever be allowed to at home.
So already I'm understanding some differences of doing this with children. The plane journey for me, previously, has been about reflecting on the drama of getting to that point and contemplating the self discovery that lay ahead. This time, with kids, it's a lot more about the survival. Not losing anyone. Keeping them safe and well and happy. Hamish and I both spent the flight in awkward positions in an attempt to make them more comfortable.
Will this whole trip be one long series of compromises?
We arrived at the airport in one piece, travelling fairly light. There wasn't much time for lottering. That pleasurable past time of hanging out in the departure lounge, browsing the shops, is long gone since parenthood. Instead that part of the journey is really quite stressful as you do your damnedest not to lose an excited child or any of their belongings.
Actually, if I'm honest, Hamish and I have never had that many "casually window shopping and drinking Bloody Mary's experiences". We' usually too late.
As we ran to the gate, arriving sweating, Freya was getting increasingly concerned that we'd miss the flight. "Don't worry, Honey," I reassured her, "the plane won't go without us, it's got our bags on board. This always happens to Daddy and I. It's always alright,"
We boarded the plane with me hobbling and clutching a handful of ice. I'd had the most embarrassing slapstick style wipeout as dashing to grab a sandwich from Cafe Italia, I collided at speed with the edge of a fixed metal chair. I properly face planted. I picked myself up, wondered how many fellow passengers had witnessed my clutsy performance and waited to hear laughter. Nothing. No one even gave me a second glance. If I'd seen that I'd have been in stitches.
It was as we staggered up the aisle of the plane that I first sensed that feeling of disappointment (or was it panic?) from the other passengers. "Oh no, children. Night flight to Delhi. Please don't sit by me!"
But someone had to have us next to them! As it turned out, it wasn't so bad. Martha, whom I was most apprehensive about, had a wail of a time bobbing up and down on her seat, playing peepo with the people behind us. Not sure they had such ball, but hey, it made her laugh. Till past midnight. Gus was delighted by the TV in front of him and both he and Freya were positively ecstatic when dinner was served.
We had a spare seat between us so of course our smallest traveller ended up with the most space. The Big M happily shored away, comfortably stretched out across two seats, legs akimbo, making herself thoroughly at home.
Freya did her best to sleep, like a true traveller, in horribly cramped conditions whilst Gus, having snatched a quick kip, was happy to have free rein with the screens in front of him - he alternated between the TV and his DS for far longer than he'd ever be allowed to at home.
So already I'm understanding some differences of doing this with children. The plane journey for me, previously, has been about reflecting on the drama of getting to that point and contemplating the self discovery that lay ahead. This time, with kids, it's a lot more about the survival. Not losing anyone. Keeping them safe and well and happy. Hamish and I both spent the flight in awkward positions in an attempt to make them more comfortable.
Will this whole trip be one long series of compromises?
Friday 14 January 2011
Tuesday 11 January 2011
Food for thought
Everyone needs time to be alone,
to think,
to dream,
to wonder...
That's why travelling can be so life-changing. But how does that work when you travel with three kids?!
to think,
to dream,
to wonder...
That's why travelling can be so life-changing. But how does that work when you travel with three kids?!
Cold feet!
A week to go and I've got to be honest: my feet are feeling ever so slightly cold. Actually that's not entirely true. I'm experiences rushes of excitement, alternated with the grip of sheer panic. I've travelled in India several times (though I haven't been since 2001 and I'm expecting lots of changes) so I know how amazing it is. I know I love being there more than almost anywhere in the world. I've unquestionably had some of the best times of my whole life in India. It's so hard to explain without sounding like a cliche. But for me, it's a place where something happens to you. It's a dream come true. During my time there, I've felt so many different emotions. I have felt fear, discomfort, weirdness, joy, laughter, independence, love, hatred, stress, pain, grief, deep sadness, deep, deep happiness, relief, wonderment, enchantment...
I have seen Mother Nature at her ugliest and her most beautiful.
That's all brilliant for me. But for my kids? How will Freya and Fergus feel the first time they see a beggar? Or a child their age wandering the streets with some hideous deformity?
And then there's Martha. Of my three children, she's the one who worries the most when I think about travelling. As if in confirmation of this fear, she pulled out all the stops of defiance the day we had our photos taken for the visas. The Indian Embassy require passport photos of all travellers before they issue a visa (interesting point to note - they're not regular passport photos; no, in true Indian style they had to make it difficult - photos need to be 2"x2", hence a £60 re-sizing bill!)
Anyway, back to the trauma of Martha. She didn't want to sit and have picture taken. Following on from the school photo episode a month or so earlier where the poor guy was virtually singing and dancing to amuse her, but to no avail, we might have guessed how things would pan out. And sure enough, she dug her stubborn little two and a half year old heels in good and proper. The photo was awful, with me holding her at arms length in an attempt not to be seen and her screaming. Full blast.
Amazingly the Embassy accepted it. Disappointingly, it's a still as hideous as the memory and it's now scanned into her passport where it will remain till it's renewed in three years time!
I wonder how often she'll decide not to play ball whilst we're travelling. On the overnight train out of Delhi perhaps? Whilst trying to mount a camel in the desert? Or just being faced with yet another meal she doesn't trust?
Whatever happens, she mustn't spoil it for the others. Don't get me wrong. I feel like I'm giving her a really bad press. For 95% of the time, Martha is utterly gorgeous. A delight to be around. A bringer of laughter to all of us. She is quite simply my cherry on top.
It's just those tricky times tend to stick in your mind...!!
(As I'm stealing a few moments to write this blog, Martha is busy baking. She's mixing a baked beans, plain flour, garlic and play dough. She's making a cake.)
I have seen Mother Nature at her ugliest and her most beautiful.
That's all brilliant for me. But for my kids? How will Freya and Fergus feel the first time they see a beggar? Or a child their age wandering the streets with some hideous deformity?
And then there's Martha. Of my three children, she's the one who worries the most when I think about travelling. As if in confirmation of this fear, she pulled out all the stops of defiance the day we had our photos taken for the visas. The Indian Embassy require passport photos of all travellers before they issue a visa (interesting point to note - they're not regular passport photos; no, in true Indian style they had to make it difficult - photos need to be 2"x2", hence a £60 re-sizing bill!)
Anyway, back to the trauma of Martha. She didn't want to sit and have picture taken. Following on from the school photo episode a month or so earlier where the poor guy was virtually singing and dancing to amuse her, but to no avail, we might have guessed how things would pan out. And sure enough, she dug her stubborn little two and a half year old heels in good and proper. The photo was awful, with me holding her at arms length in an attempt not to be seen and her screaming. Full blast.
Amazingly the Embassy accepted it. Disappointingly, it's a still as hideous as the memory and it's now scanned into her passport where it will remain till it's renewed in three years time!
I wonder how often she'll decide not to play ball whilst we're travelling. On the overnight train out of Delhi perhaps? Whilst trying to mount a camel in the desert? Or just being faced with yet another meal she doesn't trust?
Whatever happens, she mustn't spoil it for the others. Don't get me wrong. I feel like I'm giving her a really bad press. For 95% of the time, Martha is utterly gorgeous. A delight to be around. A bringer of laughter to all of us. She is quite simply my cherry on top.
It's just those tricky times tend to stick in your mind...!!
(As I'm stealing a few moments to write this blog, Martha is busy baking. She's mixing a baked beans, plain flour, garlic and play dough. She's making a cake.)
Tuesday 4 January 2011
Two weeks to go!
In just a little over 2 weeks I'll be stepping off the plane and into the deep end. Sometimes I need to remind myself that this is a good idea. When you tell people you're taking your kids to India, they all say how brilliant it will be, how envious they are, what an amazing experience we'll all have.
Thing is, that's easy for people to say. Quite another matter to actually be the ones doing it. I don't see anyone else phoning up Trailfinders! We're the ones taking our children well and truly out of their comfort zone. They're living this blessed life in this idyllic pocket of the world -Little Gaddesden, home to a thousand acres of National Trust woodland, a huge herd of deer and some of the wealthiest people you could wish to meet. It is the epitome of a privileged place to live. The village green is punctuated with pretty cottages, enormous manor houses and other highly des res. The paths that crisscross our landscape are a haven for walkers, runners, cyclists and horse riders.
This brilliant community provides a different club for every day in the month, just adding to the amazing opportunities our children have living here. Martha goes to ballet classes in the scout hut - hardly Ballet Rambert but she loves it, Gus plays football for the village team every Saturday and Sunday, whilst Freya rides her pony in the neighbouring field, popping him over the jumps Hamish has made for her Or going out on hacks in the woods with some of her best friends. There's tennis for us all in the summer-even Martha goes to toddler tennis! And let's not forget the cricket team (was that a yawn you heard me surpressing?) which provides Hamish with a dream come true.
Think it sounds gorgeous - well it is.
All three kids (and us for that matter) are surrounded by friends. I often come downstairs on weekend mornings to find Fergus gone - off visiting one of the neighbours without even bothering to get dressed. Or they might be here in my house before I've even had a cup of tea. Luke from next door often mutters, 'Morning!' as he wonders into Gus' room. And there's someone and something for everyone. Martha loves playing with Nell here or there or best of all on the trampoline at the bottom of the garden. The kids have worn paths through the hedges that border our gardens like badgers do in the woods. At Fergus Five's (aptly named after the number of his house and to avoid confusion with ours) the kids get lost in a world of Lego - we've never had to make the trip to Legoland!
I value this sense of freedom my kids have immensely. Not only do they have great friendships with loads of kids, they also have a very comfortable relationship with a whole range of adults outside of our family unit.
We live in one of a cluster of cottages that back on to a park. Beyond that is the woods with Golden Valley in the midst of it. It's so gorgeous they use it for film sets: Stardust, Harry Potter and Robin Hood. We use it as our own. In summer there's picnics to be had, hill rolling, games of football, cantering on ponies knee deep in flowers. In winter, it gives us some of the best sledging this side of the Alps. We've built fires the snow to toast marshmallows, and spent the last two Christmas holidays somehow avoiding a ip to A&E as the village kids (and lots of their parents) speed down the slopes hurtling over jumps they've made by banking up the snow.
Then there's the Browns who live just along the village green. For me having a sister living a mile away has proved to be more amazing than I could have ever imagined. We never really got on as kids but being neighbours as adults is just brilliant. My gorgeous neices, Milly and Flora are adored by all the village kids, but none more so than my own kids. When Milly left to go to university last year, Martha cried for her to come back and paint her nails!
Thing is, that's easy for people to say. Quite another matter to actually be the ones doing it. I don't see anyone else phoning up Trailfinders! We're the ones taking our children well and truly out of their comfort zone. They're living this blessed life in this idyllic pocket of the world -Little Gaddesden, home to a thousand acres of National Trust woodland, a huge herd of deer and some of the wealthiest people you could wish to meet. It is the epitome of a privileged place to live. The village green is punctuated with pretty cottages, enormous manor houses and other highly des res. The paths that crisscross our landscape are a haven for walkers, runners, cyclists and horse riders.
This brilliant community provides a different club for every day in the month, just adding to the amazing opportunities our children have living here. Martha goes to ballet classes in the scout hut - hardly Ballet Rambert but she loves it, Gus plays football for the village team every Saturday and Sunday, whilst Freya rides her pony in the neighbouring field, popping him over the jumps Hamish has made for her Or going out on hacks in the woods with some of her best friends. There's tennis for us all in the summer-even Martha goes to toddler tennis! And let's not forget the cricket team (was that a yawn you heard me surpressing?) which provides Hamish with a dream come true.
Think it sounds gorgeous - well it is.
All three kids (and us for that matter) are surrounded by friends. I often come downstairs on weekend mornings to find Fergus gone - off visiting one of the neighbours without even bothering to get dressed. Or they might be here in my house before I've even had a cup of tea. Luke from next door often mutters, 'Morning!' as he wonders into Gus' room. And there's someone and something for everyone. Martha loves playing with Nell here or there or best of all on the trampoline at the bottom of the garden. The kids have worn paths through the hedges that border our gardens like badgers do in the woods. At Fergus Five's (aptly named after the number of his house and to avoid confusion with ours) the kids get lost in a world of Lego - we've never had to make the trip to Legoland!
I value this sense of freedom my kids have immensely. Not only do they have great friendships with loads of kids, they also have a very comfortable relationship with a whole range of adults outside of our family unit.
We live in one of a cluster of cottages that back on to a park. Beyond that is the woods with Golden Valley in the midst of it. It's so gorgeous they use it for film sets: Stardust, Harry Potter and Robin Hood. We use it as our own. In summer there's picnics to be had, hill rolling, games of football, cantering on ponies knee deep in flowers. In winter, it gives us some of the best sledging this side of the Alps. We've built fires the snow to toast marshmallows, and spent the last two Christmas holidays somehow avoiding a ip to A&E as the village kids (and lots of their parents) speed down the slopes hurtling over jumps they've made by banking up the snow.
Then there's the Browns who live just along the village green. For me having a sister living a mile away has proved to be more amazing than I could have ever imagined. We never really got on as kids but being neighbours as adults is just brilliant. My gorgeous neices, Milly and Flora are adored by all the village kids, but none more so than my own kids. When Milly left to go to university last year, Martha cried for her to come back and paint her nails!
Monday 3 January 2011
For those of you who don't know me...
Let me introduce myself and my family.
So there's me, Anna, a primary school teacher for 14 years, a mother for nearly a decade and a pusher of boundaries for most of my life. I'm married to Hamish, founder of Mind the Gap, a small travel company specialising in successful and, crucially, sustainable volunteer tourism.
Together we share the belief that the world can be a better place.
We have three fantastic children: Freya, 9, Fergus, 7, and Martha, nearly 3. They have had the good fortune to be born into a wonderful life, surrounded by friends, family and an active community. It is really important to us that our children grow up appreciating that not everyone has the privileges that they enjoy - a loving family, a great school, a lovely home, food in the fridge and water in the tap.
Freya is equipped with a great sense of determination and bravery. She gets very irate if she thinks things aren't fair. She's worried about seeing people who are hungry and perhaps unwell. She's really excited about seeing elephants and camels.
Fergus is a charming, gorgeous and sensitive boy (like his father!); he gives the best hugs and loves poking around in the woods with sticks and playing rough n tumble on the trampoline. He's very sociable. He's worried about missing his friends, but is looking forward to playing lots of cricket with the friends he will undoubtedly make.
And there's Martha. She's either utterly gorgeous or a total nightmare. She makes us laugh and frustrates us in equal measures. She'll miss her friends, her possee of dolls and her family. She'll love having us all together.
Together we're spending two months in India. We considered six months but then remembered that a two week holiday can be a long time for kids to be away from home. Having thought long and hard about this, we figured that a lot can happen in eight weeks - we don't live quietly, we invite experiences into our lives at every opportunity. So, in 56 days, we think we can give our children some memories to last a lifetime and some insights into another culture at might just help to shape the way they turn out. Either that, or we'll have kids that grow up only ever wanting to go on package holidays!
I am convinced that there is a plethora of 30, 40, 50 somethings who all had amazing times travelling pre-kids but now think those days are over. I want to prove that they're far from over. Just different. Very, very different.
So there's me, Anna, a primary school teacher for 14 years, a mother for nearly a decade and a pusher of boundaries for most of my life. I'm married to Hamish, founder of Mind the Gap, a small travel company specialising in successful and, crucially, sustainable volunteer tourism.
Together we share the belief that the world can be a better place.
We have three fantastic children: Freya, 9, Fergus, 7, and Martha, nearly 3. They have had the good fortune to be born into a wonderful life, surrounded by friends, family and an active community. It is really important to us that our children grow up appreciating that not everyone has the privileges that they enjoy - a loving family, a great school, a lovely home, food in the fridge and water in the tap.
Freya is equipped with a great sense of determination and bravery. She gets very irate if she thinks things aren't fair. She's worried about seeing people who are hungry and perhaps unwell. She's really excited about seeing elephants and camels.
Fergus is a charming, gorgeous and sensitive boy (like his father!); he gives the best hugs and loves poking around in the woods with sticks and playing rough n tumble on the trampoline. He's very sociable. He's worried about missing his friends, but is looking forward to playing lots of cricket with the friends he will undoubtedly make.
And there's Martha. She's either utterly gorgeous or a total nightmare. She makes us laugh and frustrates us in equal measures. She'll miss her friends, her possee of dolls and her family. She'll love having us all together.
Together we're spending two months in India. We considered six months but then remembered that a two week holiday can be a long time for kids to be away from home. Having thought long and hard about this, we figured that a lot can happen in eight weeks - we don't live quietly, we invite experiences into our lives at every opportunity. So, in 56 days, we think we can give our children some memories to last a lifetime and some insights into another culture at might just help to shape the way they turn out. Either that, or we'll have kids that grow up only ever wanting to go on package holidays!
I am convinced that there is a plethora of 30, 40, 50 somethings who all had amazing times travelling pre-kids but now think those days are over. I want to prove that they're far from over. Just different. Very, very different.
10 years later...
I'm finally doing it! Planning ANOTHER TRIP TO INDIA!!! Can't quite believe it. I'm going to be the one other travellers look at and think, "Oh my God, travelling around India with three kids- she's brave/insane/cool/crazy..." Actually I'm all of those. We always promised ourselves one epic adventure every decade, and as you can see from the title of this chapter in my life, time was fast running out on this decade of child rearing, sleepless nights (for the dullest of reasons, school runs, drama groups, football matches, pony club, Brownies, Beavers and Toddlers, reading books and spelling tests.
Gone have been the days of backpacks, long distance journeys and undiscovered places. The Contented Little Baby and Toddler Taming took the place of the Lonely Planet. We made a valiant effort to maintain the vaguest of customs from pre-parenthood. There have been some brilliant late night parties which we have approached with a determined defiance that "we can still do it", but boy, the price is high the next day. And the next one...
But now here we are about to embark on the greatest act of defiance our children have ever witnessed. We will go to India. They will love it, just as we do. It will change their lives a bit like it did for us. They can't fail to be touched by the way so many children in India live.
When I made my first call to Trailfinders to get a quote for flights, I had to give the age of the child. The guy on the end of the phone let out a low whistle and said simply, "wow,"
"I know," I replied, "I can't believe we're having this conversation,"
Gone have been the days of backpacks, long distance journeys and undiscovered places. The Contented Little Baby and Toddler Taming took the place of the Lonely Planet. We made a valiant effort to maintain the vaguest of customs from pre-parenthood. There have been some brilliant late night parties which we have approached with a determined defiance that "we can still do it", but boy, the price is high the next day. And the next one...
But now here we are about to embark on the greatest act of defiance our children have ever witnessed. We will go to India. They will love it, just as we do. It will change their lives a bit like it did for us. They can't fail to be touched by the way so many children in India live.
When I made my first call to Trailfinders to get a quote for flights, I had to give the age of the child. The guy on the end of the phone let out a low whistle and said simply, "wow,"
"I know," I replied, "I can't believe we're having this conversation,"
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