Traveling Solo As A Mother Of Two

"You do not travel if you are afraid of the unknown, you travel for the unknown that reveals you within yourself." ~ Ella Maillart

For me, living abroad has been all about getting out of my comfort zone and enduring the inevitable discomfort that comes along with doing so. In the beginning, everything was uncertain- language, laws, procedures, locations, friends, etc - however, eventually we grew accustomed to our new ways of life and have returned to living primarily within our comfort zone, yet a redefined one.

Our first year in Javea was all about settling into our new home, learning the language, and creating a network of friends, so we didn’t travel as much as I thought we would. The only travel we did besides exploring the areas surrounding Javea, was a short trip to Ireland with my parents over Christmas break, and a five-day trip to Barcelona in the spring. Therefore, this year our intention is to travel more throughout Spain and Europe! So far we’ve had a girls trip to Paris, and a family road trip to Toledo.

Back in November, we discovered RyanAir flights to London that were dirt cheap and booked a trip for all four of us in January. Round trip for all for of us totaled €100 and we figured that even if it didn’t work out it was worth booking at that price. In the end, we found out that Davin would not be able to make the trip because he needed to go to the US for work. Of course, I was disappointed but decided that I wasn’t going to miss out on an opportunity to a new city/country even if it meant taking the kids solo.

The reason I that love travel is because it is always an adventure, and I love adventures. I don’t particularly like travel in-and-of-itself. I don’t like planning, I don’t like packing or unpacking, I don’t like flying (a fear I’ve developed since having kids), and I can’t stand crowded sterile environments. My personal travel style is to plan enough to not miss out on the must-sees, bring the bare minimum, explore by foot, avoid tourist crowds, and let the trip play out as it will. I believe that excessive planning removes the element of surprise inherent in adventure and can lead to disappointment if things don’t go as planned - or at least I use this as my excuse for not planning. I love discovery, surprises, and overcoming minor challenges which I think make travel an adventure. This is my style and it suits me… at least when I’m alone or traveling with Davin.

However, last Friday I embarked on a five-day adventure, solo, with the two kids to London and this style didn’t particularly serve me on this occasion. We returned on Tuesday and I’m not sure how to respond when people ask me, “How was your trip?” Usually, my response is "Amazing!!! Let me tell you all about it" - but not in this case. I think someday in the future, I will look back on the trip fondly and with pride, but as of now, I’m still trying to mentally and physically recuperate. Was it fun? No, not really. Am I glad I went? Definitely. In fact, I have never regretted any travel because it is always a gift - new things learned, new experiences, cultural takeaways, people met, memories made, stories to tell, etc.

There are many priceless gifts I'm taking away from this trip. The highlights for me were: watching the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace, strolling through Hyde, St. James, and Green parks, bird watching, helping the kids do a scavenger hunt through Westminster Abbey, visiting the London Tower Bridge, going to see the theatre performance of “Aladdin” in Prince Edward Theatre, sitting in the square while the kids drew sketches of Big Ben, and navigating the Tube around the city. I’ve included pictures below that prove I had some really wonderful experiences and special moments on this trip with the kids:

But what I’ve been processing since I’ve returned to Javea (and back into my comfort zone) is that traveling alone with both kids was extremely stressful and at times traumatic. I feel guilty even exploring these feelings because I hold such tremendous gratitude to have had this and many other once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to travel. I don’t take this for granted for a second. But I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit that being a solo parent, at home or on the road, is freaking hard! You are responsible for precious lives of little humans that you love more than anything in the world.

So when I embarked on this journey last Friday at 7 am in the dark driving to the airport with these little beings that I love, my heart was pounding out of my chest and my mind non-stop. Would I get lost on the way? Would this company I contacted meet me at the airport to take my car to long-term parking? Would I get there on time? Did I remember to print tickets, hotel confirmation, directions (in case my data didn’t work)? Would my phone battery last the entire day? Are our passports safe? Have the kids eaten? Did I bring enough snacks? Where do I exchange money? I have to pee, can I make it? And on, and on, and on (on top of my nerves to fly).

Luckily, everything worked out with the parking, we got on the flight, and we arrived at Stansted Airport outside of London. As we stood in customs I started to feel a bit faint and flush, my stomach turning. I thought it was because I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so once we got through we grabbed the most convenient option -Burger King veggie burgers. I had to force myself to eat (which is a very rare occurrence) and soon all of my stress about travel logistics turned into panic and fear that I was coming down with the flu, which both my kids had endured the two weeks leading up to the trip. I can't get sick. I can't get sick.

We got on the Stansted Express heading toward downtown London, and I only continued to feel more nauseated as the train car swayed back and forth. Shit. When we arrived at Liverpool Station, which was huge, packed with people on the move, and completely overwhelming for me in my state of being. It took everything I had to keep track of two kids, three bags, and figure out how to purchase Tube tickets and navigate to our hotel. I found myself channeling the sage advice of my high school tennis coach who alway said, "dig deep!” as I swayed back and forth in the standing room only train car clutching onto a pole with one hand and holding the Burger King left-over bag in the other hand next to my mouth ready to puke at any moment. I received many disconcerting looks from fellow passengers who tried to steer clear.

As luck would have it the nearest station to our hotel was out of service so it felt like a never-ending walk to the hotel carrying luggage and hurrying the kids along. I grabbed the key from the hotel desk clerk and walked away before she finished her introduction. We made it to our room and I almost cried with relief as I collapsed on the bed. I was able to puke my guts out and writhe in misery from stomach cramps in privacy in our hotel room at least! And I did for several hours. I barely had the capicity to order overpriced room service so the kids had dinner, while I laid in bed suffering, and thought, now what? I’m in a foreign country. My husband and family are a half a world away, I’m sick and alone with my kids, and I don’t have an adapter to charge my almost dead phone battery - my only access to the online world of information.

So needless to say, London was nothing short of an adventure. Luckily, I was able to keep food down the next morning and got out with the kids. And thankfully, I continued to feel better over the next few days although I was still feeling off. My emotions reached both ends of the spectrum, with moments of “This is amazing!!! I’m so glad I’m doing this” to “What the f*ck am I doing?! This is horrible!!!” - which is exactly what you get when you adventure into the unknown. It is always uncomfortable whether good or bad and in the end, it forces you to become more resilient and more gracious. This trip taught me a lot about myself.

Like most mothers, I constantly worry if I’m doing right by my kids. There were moments on this trip where I was not a great model, particularly every time I screamed at them to “RUN!!!!!!!” when we crossed the streets because I wasn’t entirely sure which direction the cars were coming - or- how I’d lose my sh*t when it was time to do their homework and they didn’t immediately comply. Nobody was hungry at the same, someone always had to go to the bathroom just after the opportunity has passed, it rained on the one outing I decided no to carry the umbrella, etc. How I handle myself in these situations is how I'm educating my kids, and while I'm far from perfect, I try my best. It’s exhausting work to be a patient, understanding parent and to model the behavior you want to see in your kids when you're on your game let alone when you are in unfamiliar territory and not feeling well. I hope that my kids will remember what they saw, heard, and learned about the culture and history of England when they think about this trip. I hope they will forget and forgive me for those moments of flawed parenting. Until they have kids of their own, they won't realize the courage it took me to get out of my comfort zone so we could all expand our and minds and experiences.

My wish is that by having these adventures early on in life they will develop a never-ending curiosity towards life and a willingness to put themselves out there in situations that force personal growth. They say that if you really want to know someone, travel with them. During this trip my kids showed me who they are when they brought a wet cloth and rubbed my back while I threw up, when they said  “please and thank you” to strangers, when they carried my backpack because my shoulders ached, and when they refused to give up on the kids scavenger hunt at the Abbey even after two hours of working on it.

We were all ready to go home at the end of the trip. When the kids and I arrived at the Alicante airport at 10:30 pm on Tuesday, the long term parking company I had hired actually showed up with our car and the key (a gamble made when I turned them over to a stranger without any paperwork). I drove home in the dark using every last ounce of my focus get us home safely and we arrived at midnight. I felt like I'd crossed the finish line of a marathon when I walked through the front door, exhausted and relieved of the immense responsibility. I fell into Davin’s arms and said, "They're all yours." It was exactly like those days when I was a stay at home mom, they were one and three years old, and I counted down the hours until Davin returned from work. Parenting is an adventure, and to travel with you kids, well maybe that is the greatest adventure one can have.