Thank you, Mark Twain. I couldn't agree more.
The first time I ever flew away from the US was one of the most defining events of my life. It was the 1990's. I was in college and my (totally unreliable) room mate and I had planned to head to Europe for the summer. I picked up extra shifts in the bar and the lab. I picked up a research project to do in Spain and that breathed some life into my suffocating credit card.
I spent hours researching backpacks, small towns and train schedules- before there was the internet. I had paper tickets for planes and trains in hand.
She (of course) bailed out and assumed I would too because what 20 year old girl goes to Europe alone? I wrote a check for the summers rent, put on an overpacked backpack and boarded an Air India flight bound for London.
I have never, ever been the same.
That summer I fended off an attempted rape in a hostel in Lyon, France*. I slept on the floor of a bus in the north of Spain and experienced a riot when a protest got out of hand. I had to give a report to the US military because the cute African American Navy Boys we were walking around with in San Raphael in the south of France were attacked by members of the racist National Front.
I kind of left out those details when I made my weekly calls (with a calling card! from a pay phone!) to my Dad.
More importantly, I stood in front of the Louvre and danced at midnight. I wandered Roman ruins in the dark with only the moon to light my way and breathed in the stories I would never know. I figured out bus and train schedules in several languages. I saw a lot of art and a lot of cathedrals. It never got old. I arrived on a Sunday in a small town in Spain and no restaurants or shops were open. So, I sat down with a family I had never met and spoke spanish and ate tapas until 2AM with a castle 50 feet away. I made friends at every turn. Western History, the Great Wars and the reality of it came into view for me with all of its twists and turns. I started to pick up newspapers and read them with my new eyes. It changed the course of my life.
I also learned that I was an incredibly capable person. I was so glad that my room mate had stayed behind because this adventure was completely mine.
I have since had the extraordinary privilege of jumping across many oceans on many occasions- by myself and with the love of my life. I have lived and worked in another country and that has changed how I live and work here. When I sat there, massively pregnant and fantasized about the world we would show our Bugaboo, Pad Thai in the northern Thailand rainforest came to mind. Croissants outside of Notre Dame! Bike rides to castles! Hikes through ruins!
Well, things havent gone exactly as planned while I was pregnant. I know, shocking, right?
It can be tedious to travel with young children. I think you should do it anyway. It's okay for things to be hard. It will be worth it. You don't need to cross oceans, just head somewhere that isn't right where you are. Lets be honest, going from Palo Alto to Alabama should require a passport. Take them to a National Park. Take them to a city. Just take them.
It can be petrifying and exhausting to travel with a young child who has severe food allergies. It is even worse when one of those allergies is perhaps the most common ingredient in food around the world. Eggs.
We have figured a few things out though. I'll fill you in.
*In case you were wondering if you and your daughter should take a self defense class, the "attempted" part of this story is why I think you should. The (disgustingly misogynistic) French police threatened to charge me because the attempted rapist was apparently in a lot of pain. Ooopss. I also learned to keep the American consulate number close at hand in case the (disgustingly misogynistic) French Police behave badly.
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