Eurotripping with a Toddler
Travel is a huge part of our life.
John and I had only been dating four months when we flew to New York to see Kings of Leon in concert. Since then, we’ve been to Germany, Colombia, Ireland, Morocco, Spain, St. Thomas (twice), New Orleans (twice), Colorado (twice), Utah, Arizona, Nevada, Nashville (twice), Asheville, Chicago, Texas and New Jersey.
Put us on a plane and fly us to anywhere.
That being the case - it’s really important to us that travel be foundational for Will and a big part of his childhood.
John’s cousin was getting married in San Sebastián, Spain (congrats again guys!) so we took this as an opportunity to have a European adventure.
Families take their kids to Disney all the time. They wait 120 minutes in line for a ride and walk about 17 miles in a day in the brutal Florida heat.
If I’m gonna wait 120 minutes, I’d rather do it at customs than for the teacups.
We normally fly coach but since we had a long-haul flight with a toddler in tow, we flew business class on Turkish Airlines because we figured it would make the experience a little less stressful.
I cannot recommend this airline more - world-class service, super comfortable and literally, the kindest flight attendants I’ve ever met.
Miami to Istanbul - Istanbul to Paris - Madrid to Istanbul - Istanbul to Miami
Yes, it was a longer flight (almost 16 hours in total) and yes, flying business class costs more but it is worth it for four reasons:
Access to the lounge where Will could burn off some extra energy and we could snack/drink to our heart’s content.
Better in-flight food - They served a mezze plate with honeycomb and legitimately good muhammara, freshly toasted nuts and complimentary champagne
More legroom. When you’re 4’11” like me, legroom isn’t a big deal but when you have an active toddler in the mix? It’s kinda a huge deal.
Nicer bathrooms with much needed cologne and lotion
That last one came in handy when Will threw up and the three of us had to jam into the bathroom to clean him off and change his clothes.
Layflat seats. A total game-changer. They’re super comfortable and if you’re not sharing with a wriggly toddler, I can totally see exiting the plane refreshed as opposed to looking like you’re stumbling out of a NOLA drunk tank after Mardi Gras.
Sixteen hours of travel time is tough no matter what but traveling business class makes it suck less. This has basically become my new life philosophy - Embrace the things that make it suck less because eventually, it is gonna suck.
For example - on the way home, we landed in Istanbul around 11:00pm. Will woke up and immediately began howling as we dashed across the airport - approximately the size of San Bernardino County - to board our flight home.
Because we had a diplomat on our flight, we had to go through a security check before boarding. Will was screaming in my arms and I was told I need to be wanded and pass my exhausted son over to our niece.
Ma’am, I’m wearing leggings and a tank top. There are precious few places I can hide something. You can’t just wand me while I’m trying to comfort my kid? I promise you, I don’t have a shiv in my kid’s diaper.
Luckily, making it suck less was the bowlful of Spanish pub mix I snagged from the Madrid airport lounge.
Never underestimate the power of a good snack. Also, where can I get these snacks? Typing “Magical Spanish Snack Mix” into Amazon isn’t as effective as one would think.
The hardest thing about traveling internationally was getting Will used to the time change.
John and I are champs when it comes to time change - you land, you go hard on the first day and you crash that night after a good glass of wine and a hot shower.
Unfortunately, this doesn’t really apply to toddlers.
We arrived in Paris at 10:00am and Will didn’t go to bed until midnight for the first two nights. In case you’re wondering what it’s like to be up for 40 hours straight and calm an overtired toddler who keeps yelling “nap” but won’t actually sleep?
It is hell.
It is the 40th circle of hell, well past Satan using Julius Caesar as a chew toy. Well past a MAGA Rally and far beyond trying to find parking in the Trader Joe’s lot the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.
There is a reason that sleep deprivation is considered a torture technique and I can promise you right now that the average toddler does not give a shit about the Geneva Convention.
John strolled Will around the streets of Paris at midnight in the hopes of getting him to sleep and despite having a crib in the room, Will slept in between us. We are not co-sleepers but any port in a Cat 5.
Our first stop was Paris where we did cyclonic tour of the city, walking 23 miles in three days.
It isn’t enough. You fall in love with Paris in ten minutes but you really need…a lifetime to get to know her.
We took the funicular up to Sacre Coeur where I saw a silver statue of Mary and the Child Christ.
I think about Mary and her Son and wonder how anyone continues on after their child is gone. Yes, He was divine but He was also her baby.
I thought about her grief, grabbed my son tight and said a prayer of protection in this holy place…and I am not the praying type.
If I ever see Pieta in person, I’ll likely break into sobs.
We picked up watermelon at the Marche St. Honore, sandwiches at Nomad and headed to the park where we feasted on jamon, falafel (Paris’ falafel game is strong and now, I feel like I kinda have to visit Tel Aviv to compare and contrast) and macarons from Laduree. Will liked the chocolate ones and had no time for the rose nor the pistachio.
We sailed down the Seine past Notre Dame, we wandered the grounds of the Louvre, my kid danced wild and free in front of the Luxor Obelisk, we drank Bretagne Spritzes by the river and I finally understood why Paris truly is the city of love.
Our itinerary for the trip was a bit of a whirlwind - Paris to Nantes to Bordeaux to San Sebastián to Burgos to Madrid.
Admittedly, this is an insane itinerary for a family with a toddler but we figured it out. Isn’t that basically the crux of parenthood - figuring shit out?
On the way to Nantes, we stopped at a château for lunch and to stretch our legs. You know, as one does. It was on this stop that I started planning our next trip to France - a roadtrip from Brest to Normandy to Provence.
I had never been to Nantes before. I had never heard of Nantes before but it is a gorgeous town and one I cannot wait to revisit.
We visited Les Machines de l'Ile where we rode a fantastical carousel that looked like something out of Jules Verne’s fever dreams and then, we rode a giant mechanical elephant straight out of a steampunk Moulin Rouge.
I know Paris has a world-class dining scene but the food in Nantes was my favorite. It’s rustic, simple and delicious - crepes and cider, bread, soup and cheese.
Will eats in Nantes. I have never seen him devour fries and roast chicken…or anything with such ferocity. I convinced him that my crème de marron is actually chocolate and we shared it, cuddled up on a couch on a drizzly Sunday night making “yummy” noises together.
Bordeaux with a toddler in tow seemed like an insane idea but we made it work. I found a Guardian article about family-friendly wineries and we went from there.
One of our biggest parenting philosophies is that we want Will to act like he’s been there before and feel comfortable wherever he is. It helps if he actually has been there before, so we take him pretty much everywhere.
Granted, there were some places we didn’t think unleashing a toddler was a good idea - like, no-one needs a toddler running around while contemplating Liberty Leading The People - but for the most part, everywhere we went welcomed kids with open arms and little treats.
At Château d'Agassac, our guide Rebecca held Will’s hand through the tour.
And at Château Saint Ahon, Elodie poured us rosé and gave Will some sparkling grape juice so he could be part of things too.
Also, if you ever go to Bordeaux, please go to Michel’s and order the onion soup. It is the best thing I ate in France.
We took the bus across the border to San Sebastián and it is a great experience. We utilized a lot of public transportation on this trip between the metro in Paris and the bus in Madrid. It was quick, cheap and efficient and while Will hated the metro, he loved the bus and saw it as a big adventure.
I love Spain. We honeymooned here in 2019, so coming back with Will was really special. I walked through cobblestone streets and daydreamed about living here - walking Indiana and Roxy and giving them a little jamon as a treat, Will kicking a football around the plaza with his little friends and then, rushing up and asking if we can get churros on the way home, John and I watching the sunset from our balcony with a loaf of bread, a bowl of olives and a bottle of rioja between us. There’s a magic here.
Much like Nantes, I had never heard of Burgos before but it was a good midway stop between San Sebastián and Madrid (where we were flying out), so we figured we’d stop for a couple of night and check out the cathedral.
I am so glad we did. Burgos is beautiful and the cathedral - a UNESCO World Heritage site - is awe-inspiring.
Two of my favorite moments on the trip happened in Burgos.
The first was when Will saw a statue of the Virgin Mary holding the infant Christ, pointed up and said, “Baby!”
The second was when we came out of the cathedral - known for featuring one of the most beautiful resting places in all Christendom - and Will saw a garbage truck.
“MAMA! GAH BIJ TUCK! WOW!”
You literally just saw the face of the divine carved into stone but yeah. Sure. Gah bij tuck. That’s the best thing so far.
We also had surprisingly delicious Japanese food in Burgos at Sibuya Urban Sushi Bar.
Will woke up from a surprise nap and looked like he was headed for a meltdown but sushi rice and chicken teriyaki saved the day.
If you go, order the gyoza and the yakisoba.
One of my biggest travel tips - whether you’re with kids or adults - is check out the markets and local grocery store. On this trip, the grocery store was a necessity as we needed to grab fresh milk and snacks for Will every couple of days.
The produce in both Spain and France is fantastic during this time of year. I’m pretty sure we kept EU raspberry farmers in business during our trip with Will inhaling an entire carton of raspberries during our stop at the El Corte de Ingles department store.
Pablo Neruda wrote odes to all sorts of ordinary things - soap, socks, onions
After eating tomatoes in the blistering Spanish sun - served with peppery olive oil, fleur de sel and tiny green sprouts of basil and mint, I can understand why the tomato is worthy of poetry:
The street
filled with tomatoes,
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
Will must have eaten at least a half dozen tomatoes on our trip and I don’t think I can eat them any other way ever again.
One of my favorite places in the world is the Mercado San Miguel in Madrid and my kid quickly learned how easy it is to con his way into a €5 cookie - be adorable and point.
“Awww! Bebe tiene una galleta?”
”Yeah. Bebe always tiene una galleta…”
Another thing Will picked up quickly is that tapear is life.
It is literally my favorite way to eat - you have a drink and a little bite and then, you walk around the corner and have a drink and a little bite and then, you cross the street and have a drink and a little bite. Nothing gives me more joy than a tapas crawl and I am so proud that my kid is the same.
One of the best things about being in Spain was introducing Will to the things I love.
Churros and chocolate for breakfast (because I’m obviously super health conscious) and my favorite chain restaurant that isn’t In-N-Out (I’m sorry but animal style fries, an animal style grilled cheese and a Diet Coke is a perfect meal) - 100 Montaditos. The kid loved the patatas bravas and the teeny little jamon y queso sandwiches.
When we arrived in Madrid, the temperature was basically the surface of the sun.
As Floridians, the heat is our ally. Everyone else has merely adopted the heat but we were born in it, molded by it.
And then, we got to Madrid.
Fuck.
Is this an oven? Are we in an actual oven right now? Is there a witch trying to bake us?
So, we did what any reasonable person does in this situation - seek refuge in an Irish pub.
The drinks were cold, the place was dark and cavernous in that homey way that only an Irish pub can be and it was the respite from the heat we desperately needed.
I love an Irish pub. Truly I do.
One might argue that He already did, but God bless the Irish. They make the whole world feel like home.
Our last days in Madrid were spent trying to beat the heat. Will drinks lots of freshly-squeezed orange juice (something he doesn’t do at home) while John and I quaff Tinto de Verano - a refreshing combination of Shiraz and lemon-lime soda. We started calling it “juice” and decided that it’s the official summer drink of House Elder.
Before going home, we headed to Centro Centro for a drink with a view.
Will sipped ice water flavored with fresh orange slices and munched on potato chips under a mister in 90 degree weather. Tapear is life.
My make-up long melted off and cute was something I stopped aiming for about three days ago, but I remember being really happy in this moment and crystalized it as a memory of how good life can be.
I know how lucky I am and I try to vocalize it as much as possible. Taking a moment, taking a breath, looking around and exclaiming or murmuring or thinking at some point, “If this isn't nice, I don't know what is.”
I certainly didn’t grow up taking European vacations and I lived in Europe.
I’m glad John and I can give our son these kinds of experiences while providing a foundation of love, security and support.
I know Will is too young to form memories and he will not remember this grand adventure we took when he was a toddler but I hope looks at the pictures and the blog post and the home movie and has a fleeting sense of nostalgia - toddling up stone steps in the shadow of a cathedral, devouring buttery roast chicken on a drizzly cobblestone street, cuddling up with his parents and feeling warm, happy and safe no matter where he is.
And I hope that this trip sparks a sense of adventure that will guide him for the rest of his life.
