My dad always used to say that my mum had ‘gypsy blood’ because she was always planning our next trip – never content to stay in one place too long… it seems it was genetic.
I vividly remember my first foreign holiday – age 22 months – to the Greek island of Zante in the early 80s. I can recall instantly the bright yellow jeep we hired, the vivid turquoise water, the kind ladies at the road side fruit stalls and those long beach-side lunches. In fact, most of my childhood memories seem wrapped up in these foreign jaunts. My parents weren’t mega rich but they were both teachers – so we had 8 glorious weeks together every summer and they made damn sure we made the most of it.
From campervanning around Europe to 2 months in Hong Kong, getting stranded in the Amazon rainforest (true story) and walking the Great Wall of China all before my 18th birthday… there were no 2-week package holidays to Spain for us. They wanted to expose us early and frequently to a mix of cultures – food, people, history – so that we realised there was a big wide world outside our white, middle-class rural Devon lives. It was important to them that we didn’t see the glamour of glitzy hotels or the airbrushed side of our far-flung destinations – we swapped kids clubs and bucket and spade holidays for visiting schools in China and taking educational supplies to street children in Peru.
Did it work? Hell yes. I feel like it put my massively over-priviledged, comfortable life into context – especially during those teenage years – it’s amazing how spending time with families who would kill to provide their children with a full-time education cures you of your exam stresses… humbled, thankful, blessed… they’re all overused and naff ways of saying it basically reminded me how #firstworldproblems my life actually was. I think that’s the magic of travel.
I will go bankrupt before I cure my wanderlust and I want my boys to feel it too. Being half Italian and attending an International school they already had a good head start – plus the fact they are living half their time in France. I love how their vocabulary is a blend of Italian, French and English; how comfortable they feel in a foreign playpark, chatting away with other kids and how the 6yo is already reeling off the countries on his wishlist. He’s hooked – just like his mamma.
P.s. On that note, did I mention I’m off to India in September? More on that next week…
Image credit: photo by Janko Ferlič on Unsplash
