Living in China, I am always up for a new experience, a chance to make new memories and of course, a good story to write about! So, I rather enthusiastically agreed to go on a team building exercise with the hotelier and his well, team and their families! A day trip out to the mountains sounded idyllic…they were on my 'to do' list anyway. A peaceful bus ride out, taking in the sights …no sweat. Little did I know what lay ahead in the 13 hours of non-stop entertainment, China-style! Rewind your mind's images from that peaceful bus ride out……instead, cut to images of the 'happy bus' rolling off into the China madness with a quick round of 'rock, paper, scissors' followed by a frenzied game of hot potato! (Except in place of the potato, a soft toy in the shape of a (smiling) star.) Whoever was left holding said star when the music stopped had to perform "something" at the front of the bus, on the microphone! As I shrunk further and further into my seat, hoping this was just for the team…not the ring-ins, before I knew it, I found myself holding the 'yellow star' and being cheered loudly up to the front of the bus. Praising the lord for my small person who loves to put on a good show, I dragged her with me! What to sing to a bus load of Chinese speakers, most who wouldn't understand me in English anyway? A good old maori song of, course! This hit from my primary school days, that I've managed to hang onto in my adult life comes in handy sometimes (usually after a few too many beverages but rather more likely these days, singing up a storm with my small person in the privacy of my own home)! So, that bizarre picture there and then, really indicative of the day that lay ahead! Arriving at our destination, the base of Xi'an's famous Mt. Lishan (this is where the renowned Emperor Qin Shi Huang built his mausoleum and those amazing Terracotta Warriors to guard it) it was a toasty 32 degrees and as I looked up at the towering mountain before me, I was thankful I'd heeded the hotelier's advice and worn sneakers and shorts. What to do before we start the journey? A three-legged race, of course. (Careful not to be mowed down by the numerous tourist coaches flanking our race track!) A quick toilet stop (squat of course, byo tissues) and we were off! The walk started out as you'd expect… pleasant, calm, shaded…plenty of lush, green trees… Naturally the further we went, those paved steps got steeper and steeper and steeper, with every turn - just when you thought the top had to be in sight, another trek up calf-busting stairs. (Really wishing I'd stretched as opposed to a three-legged race!) The small person did remarkably well, motivated onwards by mum's rash promise of an ice-cream…little did I know, from about the half way point, there would be stalls with all sorts of ice blocks, ice-creams and much needed cold drinks (including beer) and eggs! (Thank you, Thank you!) After each set of stairs, there was usually a platform of some description to rest, where you might find an important statue, a carving, a monument…relating to the significant history of the mountain. Some people were selling pictures…others palm reading….and then this……caught me by surprise. Yep, that right there's a target range. Hire your bow and arrow and shoot. At what? Oh, that's just the Prime Minister of Japan. (Nothing PC about that really.) (Again, a story for another day!) Quick look at the view amongst the bow and arrow firing and onwards and upwards we went… Admittedly, it was becoming a bit of a tough slog by now….small person being piggy backed by daddy…in between the much needed pit stops! I really take my hat off to this lady…..I love my heels, but this is taking glamour to a whole new level! (Calls for a hash tag, #Glamourhiking) Finally we reach the top! Qualifying as the third team up! (Did I mention it was a race?!) More cool drinks and ice blocks….. and this spectacular view! A twenty minute pit stop to catch our breath, before making our way partly back down the mountain for lunch at this amazing spot - a farmer's house known in English as "Bushy Beard!" (Mind the chickens on the way out!) From here, it was (thankfully) a bus ride down the mountain to the Huaqing Hot Springs. Now, I've only really ever been to the hot springs in Rotorua, New Zealand, as a kid on our annual Christmas holiday - mostly they were mud pools and it didn't involve immersion! Naturally, I was curious about what to expect. These hot springs are quite new to Xi'an so the hotel exuded a modern, serene spa-type feeling. We were ushered into changing rooms and the fun began. No privacy here, ladies and gents…changing into swimmers with the rest of the 'team' and the changing room attendant looking on, impatiently! Ahem. I'm no prude, but the nakedness presenting itself in all manners around me, had me and small person desperately trying to fix our gazes firmly on the floor! (Hence, there are no photos!) Once in said swimmers, special shoes were given and mine whisked away. Realising, I would be the only westerner in a 'bikini' while others were wearing more appropriate bike-pant-type attire; in a futile attempt at modesty I attempted to put my shorts and t-shirt on (at least to walk out to the pools) but was sternly told to get them off!! They were to be locked in my locker! Pronto! Then, escorted to a shower (with several onlookers) we had to quickly wash ourselves down, before being plunged into the um, springs! The hotelier had an equally harrowing experience with the changing room attendant IN the shower with him (whilst naked) handing the shower gel. (Ahem.) Phew! We make it into the hot springs (I've managed to secure a towel around me) and we are met with a series of undercover square pools each with supposedly different health benefits. One was enticingly blood red, one was filled with giant cucumber slices, one was ridiculously freezing (although quite refreshing given by now it was 34 degrees and all the other pools were set at 38 plus!) Entering any of these pools, discreetly, nigh impossible -- everyone keen to check out the "foreigners" in their weird bikini/surfer shorts, who clearly thought they were off for a day at the beach! A man who appeared to be specifically on hand to straighten shoes, hovered about while we hung our towels up and slipped our rubber shoes off. Ava was given a floating ring and from there on in was happy as a pig in mud (cucumber). Meantime, the hotelier and I tried to stifle our giggles at the 'unusual' situation. We were given an hour and a half to absorb the tranquility. Sun lounges were dotted around, so you could relax (or sleep as we discovered most were). We later discovered some outdoor hot pools, much more to our Aussie sun-loving taste. After we had successfully turned ourselves into shrivelled prunes and inhaled the serenity (and dehydrated ourselves in the extreme heat) there was more relaxing to come! We were chaperoned upstairs into the 'massage/movie' room where 18 plush brown velvet chairs awaited us ….as we've now come to expect, many were fast asleep….and on the TV, a national geographic type program about rodents, played loudly. Down the hall some of the team had opted to play 'mahjong' - China's famous board game. Not the hotelier and I - we'd put our hand up for a massage, naively thinking we'd be taken into a private room….but alas this 'full' body massage was to be done right here amongst the masses…. I won't lie, it was quite good, especially after a thousand metre hike (apart from the part where my eyeballs and inside of my ears were massaged?!) And if I could just switch off the snoring sounds opposite me, the noisy Chinese game show now blasting out from the TV and the sheer horror that my bottom was being shaken in front of, God only knows who)! Successfully pruned, prodded pummelled and fuelled with a glass of warm Fanta, our next stop, dinner! This was a very authentic Chinese restaurant, with pretty red lanterns swinging in the breeze. We were ushered into two separate dining rooms which wore the hallmarks of the ancient chinese style homes in the north of China, including a giant, wooden bed. (Apparently due to the extreme cold and 'paper' windows, these beds used to have fires underneath to keep them warm!) Note: Now successfully used for children's play area. This was a distinctly northern style feast (when I say northern, I'm talking close to Russia!) although it included the ubiquitous pig's ear, not to mention an entire chicken, including it's head in this enormous bowl of soup (which was actually pretty tasty) and my favorite Xi'an style burger 'Man Tou'….very doughy bread with pork! Dessert involved a very sticky rice (which by the way, the Chinese used to use as a substitute for concrete in ancient times)! Who knew! The elusive bottle was perched on the table, we eyed suspiciously as Baijiu - but it turned out to be sweet rice wine, served in thimble sized glasses, followed by a glass or two of local beer. All tuckered out….what better way to finish off the day than with a spot of skipping!! Team building day - a success! Definitely 'out of the ordinary' but a bucket-list load of fun! This is China! Visiting Xi'an…..and want to recreate this fun experience for yourself! Get cultural in China! Where: Mt Li Shan or Shan Li, Lintong District, Xi'an Lunch: “Mao Hu Zi” (bushy Beard) Huaqing Aegean International Hot Spring Resort & Spa Dinner:“Lishan Shi San Hua” Proud to share this post on Seychelle Mama's monthly #MyExpatFamily series … [Read more...]
Week Three: So this is China…
So, it's almost three weeks into this "journey" and I've had some time to exhale and gradually ease myself into life in China. Ahhhh 'Life in China' -- even saying it out loud feels like a strange out of body experience. Me? In China?! How did that happen? I'm rediscovering that adjusting to a new city is by no means a quick process. For me, it's about slowly ticking the boxes, finding a routine of some description and getting used to the surroundings. In Xi'an, our immediate surroundings are by no means alien; a plush 5-Star hotel, leafy green streets, trendy cafes, bars and big shopping centres….all seemingly normal things, found in many parts of the world, right? But it's the little things that jolt you back into reality. Did somebody say NO chocolate?! 'Toto we're not in Kansas anymore.' (Care packages welcome.) Yes, the little things...for a start, cars are driving on the wrong side of the road! Now, that I can cope with…but they are also driving all over the road, not to mention on the footpath! (Yes, you can imagine the less robust pathways are in a constant state of repair.) There are no rules, or so it seems! If there are, they are of the unspoken variety. It's perfectly ok to cut across four lanes of traffic without so much as a flick of the indicator, or heaven forbid even the slightest pressure on the break. Drivers obliviously weave in and out from one lane to the next, all the while incessantly beeping (which in itself is enough to cause a small migraine, let alone the narrow misses and heart failing site of cars coming directly at you)! It's fair to say the one road rule that does apply, is 'whoever's biggest gets right of way,' and that includes pedestrians. You know those little green pedestrian lights - usually people or signs that say 'walk' or 'cross'? -- they differ in every country but generally it's universal for 'you may cross safely, cars will stop.' But not here. Here, you take your life in your own hands. Bikes, cars, trucks, busses and tuk tuks - will just keep on coming without slowing down (not even a little). In fact if you're in the way, you're likely to get a rather filthy look and a shake of the head. Miss A is learning relatively fast to proceed with caution in any public space! (Explaining to a small person why the cars don't stop when they should is a little challenging.) To add to the rather hairy situation, motorcyclists don't wear crash helmets, like ever. And it's a mode of transport that more often than not applies the "kid sandwich" theory. Dad on the front, mum on the back and junior in the middle…or juniors! I am impressed though, with their nifty raincoats and umbrellas attached like mini tents for those wet and wild days. Speaking of the weather, there's the little fact that the sky is more often than not a hazy shade of grey. Of course having lived in Hong Kong for four years, I am used to 50 shades, but here the pollution, brings a slightly more consistent shade to the mix. Having teased my British husband for being the eternal weather optimist for years (Him: "I can see a small patch of blue sky in the far, far east…there, can't you see it??!" Me: "NO, it's raining!") I now find myself desperately throwing open the blinds each morning, looking up and searching, squinting, scanning the sky, for a more favourable shade of blue-grey. To Xi'an's credit, we have had some beautiful summer days I must admit, to keep me sane. (Whistles tune "Always look on the bright side of life.....") What the weather lacks in colour, the city's architecture certainly makes up for. Oriental and ornate, rooftops are classically Chinese traditional styles and Xi'an is not short on stunning monuments, to gaze at in admiration. The city is vibrantly lit up with red lanterns and there is a genuine love affair with giant LED screens. For the most part there are no English signs, that's zero, zilch! Unless the retailers are going for the quirky "look I have hip English store name" that doesn't make a whole lot of sense - (but of course that's not the point). What these shopping centres may lack in Gweilo-friendly fare, they certainly make up for in kid friendly fun! There are more 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory' style 'fun centres' than any parent could dare to hope for. (For the record, I have discovered Zara, H & M and Starbucks, so I am essentially able to survive, despite the distinct lack of good chocolate and Mint Mochas!) Fun centres and chocolate aside, there is however, the small problem of bathroom visits, which with a three year old, come far more often than I'd like and naturally at the most inopportune moments. I'm used to hightailing it to the nearest loo, but even when you make it in time, the challenge is not over. The ever present 'squat toilets' occupy most shopping centres and public places. (Note to self and anyone visiting: never leave home sans tissues.) Squatting is clearly an art one must master and one I'm not all that keen on getting the hang of... but, I fear we have little choice round these parts. Good for the thighs they say! Anywhere in a public space, the level of staring is at best intense….I am now empathizing with Brangelina as I walk the streets, acutely aware there are pairs of curious eyes everywhere giving us the once over. (Who needs Hollywood!) The number of photos taken/asked for is slightly overwhelming…. Mostly they want a piece of mini blondie and it usually evolves like a scene from The Bodyguard - me at close range, sizing up the crowds for any sneaky phones pointing in our direction and fending off over excited locals who can't help themselves from reaching out to pinch Ava's white chubby cheeks or twirl that long golden hair. Anyone requesting photos is told to ask the celebrity herself and if she says no, then the red carpet is unfortunately not rolled out. Then there are the children who are literally thrown at Ava, their parents desperate to hear little Johnny or Jill rattle of his or her newly learned English. Say "Hello!!" they implore (the poor child often anything but keen to drape her arms around a child she's never laid eyes on). The parents unwilling to lose this photo opportunity, smile through clenched teeth, refusing to leave the scene until child cooperates and much wanted picture is captured. And all this, just on our way to coffee! Thankfully they are generally friendly and (provided we're not in a hurry) we can manage the paparazzi - but I can't help but notice the tiny toddler fact that many of them are wearing pants with the bottoms cut out! (FYI - that's toddlers not parents.) Ah yes, you might guess what comes next…apparently it makes for easy toilet access….. I can't quite grasp the concept but it appears to be a popular one. I guess there's nothing to say but, bottoms up! After all...This is China. … [Read more...]
It Takes a Small Village to Raise a Child in a Big City
It’s four days out from the big C (the “big C" being our imminent move to Central China). As you'd expect, I'm rushing around like the undoubtedly mad woman that I am, ticking off a ‘to do’ list longer than the Great Wall of China. Admittedly a lot of it involves ‘maintenance’ - all in preparation for a potential lack of hairdressers able to colour blonde hair or my inability to track down a decent manicurist. (First world problems of course!) Then there are the trips to my local GP to stock up on medication for those unexpected illnesses and of course buying more panadol, deodorant and toothpaste than you can poke a proverbial stick at. (My husband keeps reminding me, we are not actually going to prison, but I'm choosing to go with the Girl Scout motto that is, "Be Prepared!") So when I'm not out buying in bulk, I'm staring into space (which mostly involves looking at a somewhat spectacular view of Hong Kong’s strapping skyscrapers, rolling mountains and sparkling seas) wrapped in a million memories, mourning this chapter that's coming to a close. It's always a weird feeling between moves. Stuck in limbo...not quite part of your old life, and yet not belonging in your future life. I will soon be staring out at a giant Wild Goose Pagoda. (Yes I can feel your sympathetic but slightly amused smirk from here.) My husband has already arrived in Xi’an. He’s been there for over a week and barely surfaced for air! Meantime, I sit here, desperate for him to throw me a bone, on life in the ancient capital. Amongst his own madness that is running a new hotel he knows little about, he’s thankfully thrown me a few morsels, mostly some grainy photos showcasing the surprisingly buzzing tourist area (including giant Pagoda) where we will make our home; informed me of the smoke-free hotel car (not always a given) with its English speaking driver; and illustrated the wide, leafy streets and his relief at the displays of English signage. Oh and the space. Coming from a place where space is like a prized cow at a fairground, I’ve gotta say, this is quite exciting. And let's not forget the pictures of Starbucks across the road! Priorities!! Still, I'm anxiously twiddling my thumbs, wondering what to expect, really expect! My heart pounds nervously as I scour Facebook pages on life in China, naturally Xi’an in particular. (Yes, encouragingly there are Facebook groups, even if Facebook is banned in China.) Naturally in between all of this I am frantically farewelling my butt off. (I can wish.) In between stocking piling supplies and gazing longingly at Hong Kong, I'm squeezing in afternoon teas at posh hotels, dinners at iconic city spots and foot massages in true oriental style, all with a bevy of warm and witty women I like to call 'my village.' Having arrived in the Fragrant Harbour four years ago, well and truly preggars, I missed out on the compulsory Hong Kong induction, that largely involves wild days on Junks and long nights in Lan Kwai Fong, where jelly shots rule the streets and you don't emerge until daylight beckons. I’ll admit, a part of me (clearly a much younger version of me) was ever so slightly disappointed… but I’ve managed to make up for it in other ways. (Ever tried Jelly shots at home!) Amongst the sleepless nights and coffee-fuelled days spent in a haze, as a first-time mother in a foreign country, believe it or not, I’ve managed to get Ava to the ripe old age of 3.5 without having her choke on chicken's feet or poke herself in the eye with a chopstick. Winning! Now as I go about my daily life, stopping to say goodbye to the people who’ve punctuated our lives, the phrase ‘It takes a small village to raise a child’ echoes in my mind. We might just be tiny specks in a bustling, fast and furious city of seven million people, but raising a child hasn’t been done alone. From our good friends on the block, to my invaluable helper (nanny) who has helped us on far too many levels to count from day dot; to Ava’s little pre-school downstairs where the teachers have treated us like family and are without hesitation throwing my girl a farewell party; to the local dry cleaners who’ve been giving Ava a lollipop every single visit, since well, well before she had teeth! It's these regular faces that make our world go round. There's also the W hotel’s warm and generous staff, who've constantly showered Ava with love, attention and unexpected gifts of kindness; the Starbucks staff who make my much-required Mint Mocha before I’ve even hit the counter and the ladies who've been scoping out a seat for us in the crowded coffee shop, since Ava was barely a week old….. there were the ladies in the clothes shop opposite who entertained Ava (or perhaps it was the other way around) while I took a brief sanity break, inhaling my coffee at high speed. There's the concierge staff downstairs in our apartment block who high-five Ava every single morning on the way out (even if she is going through the “don’t look at me, don’t talk to me" grumpy toddler phase); the security guards at the gate who make sure she gets across the road safely with a smile; to the ladies in the supermarket who’ve chatted to her enthusiastically in Cantonese every Saturday morning since the beginning when she'd toddle in with daddy, usually, unintentionally sending the fruit and veges rolling down the isle. The myriad of friendly Filipino helpers who wave and call out to Ava wherever we go in our ‘hood. (I'm constantly surprised at the number of people my blondie actually knows.) This has been our small village, well and truly alive amongst the madness of Asia's World City... and for that, I’m forever grateful. I can only hope we will encounter some of the kindness this village has shown us, in Xi’an, China....where another city of 8-million awaits. Do you have a village in an unexpected place, that gets you through your daily life? Tell me! Psssst... If you want to keep up to date with the latest from China, and you haven't already, make sure you subscribe to the blog. Click here.. … [Read more...]
Travelling with Children? Top Tips for Flying without Fear!
So, not all that long ago I completed my 'gazillionth' flight with my small person to another country. No. Mean. Feat. Actually, as I began writing this post, I was still 'up in the air.' It was my husband's turn to sit next to the mini-tornado, so with an aisle between us (I like to think of it as the Berlin Wall) apart from tapping on the keyboard, I was lazily fantasizing - just for a minute - I was one of those single 'fancy-free' travellers with the luxury of nodding off with the rest of the plane at any given moment (after I'd eyeballed a movie and enjoyed a small glass of crisp Sav Blanc, of course)! My 'apparently' far-fetched fantasy brought to an abrupt halt, sooner than I could wave down the drinks cart! If you're a mum or dad who's had the pleasure of travelling with children, you'll probably get my drift....if you are reading this as a single traveller - thank your lucky stars and order another beverage, pronto! So, now that my in-flight passenger is the ripe old age of three - given our expat circumstances - she's probably what you might call a 'seasoned traveller' of the miniature variety and (newbies will be thrilled to hear) she's pretty good at it -- (which just quietly, by now she'd really want to be)! We've gone from this: To this! Mind you, I am wondering if I should be concerned that she views the in-flight 'safety card' as one of her favorite stories? ("Those big, bouncy slides really are for a special occasion!" said no mum ever....oh except me!) There's no two ways about it, mostly, flying with a baby/toddler is a frazzled affair…. the law of averages suggests flying with any child under the age of three has to be a little on the hairy side, right? Sitting in the doctor's waiting room not all that long ago, a woman walked in looking slightly flustered with an unmistakeable sense of urgency....she didn't have an appointment but was desperately wanting a few words with the doctor on getting through a long flight with a toddler and clearly hoping for a miracle! I didn't like to tell her there's no single cure for the symptoms of in-flight delirium. If you are lucky enough to be flying sans children, you may notice (if you care to glance up from that best-seller you're already engrossed in) many parents stumbling on board, loaded down with Dora backpacks, nappy bags, valium(?)… mostly, they'll be toting that glazed-over look (which i'm sure is not just due to a lack of sleep (or valium). They're desperately trying to ignore the stares from other passengers, boring a hole in their back, as they ever so tentatively make their way to their designated prison cell seat trying to discreetly tuck baby under their arm...out of sight. (Remaining invisible usually an impossible task should you have a toddler who adamantly decides she would like to wheel her princess suitcase All. The. Way. down the aisle - weaving recklessly, at snail's pace, of course). There's panic written all over your face (and most likely the rest of those faces seated within tantrum-throwing distance). Is little Johnny Junior going to cry inconsolably for the entire journey, while you pace frantically up and down the aisle, rocking and smiling through clenched teeth as he unleashes his own turbulence? The 'glazed over' look comes in handy when your small person kicks the back of the passenger's chair for the umpteenth time…(you know it's only a matter of time before 34 B turns around with a plastic knife and threatens on-the-spot murder). Taking deep breaths and shutting down can be an excellent way of pretending you are anywhere but here, squashed like a sardine with your tiny pocket of terror and no easy sane way of escaping. The glazed-over look also comes in handy when your small person decides he or she urgently needs the toilet, just when the seat belt light flashes on….(how things have changed….these days I don't even take my shoes off on a long flight…no use getting too comfortable is there)! I've said it before, I'll say it again - an over-tired toddler is a little like trying to control someone who's had too many Mimosas and won't listen. "Not there, sit down, no jumping, stop shouting, don't point!" Well -- no one said traveling the world was easy, did they?! :) Keep your eye on the end prize and before you know it, that mile high madness will be a distant memory. So, if you're about to embark on a journey of epic proportions across the sky; having flown with child, solo, more times than I can count....I've managed (somehow) to store a few tips up my wine-soaked sleeve when it comes to flying with children. #Tip 1: Short or long haul flights In my humble opinion, short haul flights are often harder than long haul flights…(believe it or not). (I'd probably define short haul as anything less than 5 hours.) Why? On a long haul flight, the aircraft is usually bigger and in the air, space is your best friend. Whether its leg space or aisle space, you can't get enough with a small person at your side. Short flights are often crowded, noisy (no one's sleeping) and service is limited, so getting help is not always readily available. Whereas on a long flight you can settle in and get comfortable, staff are usually helpful with things like putting cumbersome bags in the overhead locker, fetching bottles of warm milk, watching bub while you make a toilet pit-stop and anything else in between. If they're not, be bold and ask for help. #Tip 2: Where to sit? OK, so my theory on this one…. if you are flying long haul during the day, sit up the front where they have the baby bassinets (otherwise known as 'bulk-head' seats) - even if your baby isn't sleeping or is too big for the bassinet - you can pop them in it to play and the extra foot room is handy for them to sit (when the seat belt sign's off and if the Flight Attendants permit). NB: Some strongly advise against this, but if not and it's a long flight and junior's happily playing with some toys at your feet, it's a lot better than chasing him or her squealing up and down the aisle! (You can also breathe a sigh of relief that junior won't spend half the flight kicking the back of the seat in front of you. BONUS!) If you are travelling overnight and your baby is too big for the bassinet do not get the front row. The arm-rests have the television monitors inside them so won't lift up. Absolutely mortifying when you go to lie junior down and stretch him across your lap and the neighbouring seat! All the other seats' arm-rests behind the bulk-head generally do lift though, which is great for sleeping if he/she has a paid seat or you are lucky enough to get a spare seat. ALWAYS ask plead, grovel for a spare seat. Usually the oh-so-kind check-in staff will try to make your flight as comfortable as possible for you AND the other child-free passengers. It pays to arrive early to check in, before the plane fills up, so you get a better chance of grovelling having the seats you want. Tip #3 Beating jet lag There are many theories about beating jet lag….some stand by sticking your children to their normal sleep schedule, while others say it makes more sense to adjust to the time zone in the country you're going to, during the flight. I can't vouch for everyone but when we travel a 12 hour flight from Hong Kong to the UK, we always try to put ourselves in their time zone. At least if you arrive in the morning UK time, you can stay awake for a few hours if you've been sleeping in-flight...and have an afternoon nap before bedtime. Granted! The odds on this for many little people are on the slim side - different time zones are horrendous no matter which way your sleepy eyes look at it. In the past, on trips from Hong Kong to the UK, we've tried to stop Ava going to sleep in the afternoon we've arrived, hoping she would go straight to sleep at bedtime, only to have it seriously backfire and have her awake half the night or launch into horrifying nightmares because she's been awake so long. Usually no matter what you do it can take 3 to 5 nights to get settled, sometimes longer. Hence a week away somewhere in the opposite time zone with kids is not really going to be the relaxing family break you may have imagined. Re-think that trip to the Bahamas! Arriving in daylight makes beating jet lag a little easier. And having a day to catch up without being on the go is always a good idea. Tip #4 Night or day flight? When I travel to Australia (an 8.5 hour flight with a 2-3 hour time difference) everyone always asks whether it's best to travel at night or during the day? For me it depends on the child's age. Night is great if they are still not up for entertaining themselves during the day. Probably any time before the age of two, if possible, I would be opting for the night trip. A long day flight can leave you counting down the excruciatingly looong minutes as you pace up and down the aisles with a toddler who wants to practice his or her newly acquired 'balancing on two legs' skills! (This is great if you're looking to network and keen to get to know the entire plane - hand out those business cards!!) But gee, it's a killer! After the age of 2 and a half, a day flight is pretty good if they like to watch TV. A Peppa Pig obsession? You're in luck! An iPad or similar works miracles! Some people swear by buying their kids baby-sized headphones…. I am yet to do this but reckon it could be worth it. Oh and just so you know, once they reach three, it just gets easier and easier. I even managed a movie and a glass of wine on my last trip DownUnder! Hellelujah!!!!! Tip #5: What to take? If your baby is tiny make sure you feed them (breast or bottle) on take off and landing to avoid any ear problems or if they're older, give them a dummy or lolly to suck on. Taking a night flight usually means you get fed pretty late, so it pays to have a stash of food for the little one to eat before boarding or once they get on board, so they don't fall asleep on an empty tummy (or shout the house down demanding food)! When they are babies and young toddlers, take a baby carrier like the Baby Bjorn or equivalent, especially if you are flying alone. It is not easy getting yourself, baby and paraphernalia through x-ray machines and on board and this frees you up to fill in departure/arrival cards and lift bags etc. NB: They will make you take the baby out of the carrier going through the x-ray machines and the first time they did this to me, I seriously nearly had a pink fit. (Breathe Nicole, breathe!) My poor mum saying goodbye could see me from the gate but was helpless to do anything. At least if you expect it, you won't be ready to throttle the security dude on the spot (if only you had a spare hand)! If your little one is verging on toddler age....and walking steadily, make sure you take the stroller and don't check it in with baggage until the gate. If the airline asks you to, get a temporary one from then to get you through the airport in one piece. Trust me on this. I know it's hard not to want to take a truck-load of bags and you worry you won't have enough nappies, wipes, wraps etc… and obviously it depends on how long the flight is/stop overs etc, but less is more if you're traveling alone. Yes! You can take baby powder and milk on the plane…. if baby's on normal milk, the staff should happily fill your bottle(s) or warm existing ones up. I have also gotten away with taking baby food on board in the past when Ava was younger. Now at three she can eat normal airline food. (They usually make special kid's trays with plenty to pick on for a few hours of cartoon viewing.) New toys, colouring-in pads, crayons etc (things that don't require small pieces that fall down the side of the seat and drive you crazy) can come in handy for bribery - engaging your tot! Do take extra dummies etc in case you lose them down the side of the seat. Extra change of clothes for you and bub. Nappy bags….wipes, wipes wipes….Nurofen/Panadol or the equivalent in case of an unexpected high temperature or teething. #Tip 6: Sleeping Aids? When you first join the tubular party in the sky, many of you might be very tempted to try antihistamines in a panicked effort to make your baby/toddler drowsy (aka 'knocked out for the entire ride')! Trust me, I was a keen offender! Some doctors don't recommend it, but whatever it takes eh?...In a devastating blow for me, it appears I have a daughter who actually hypes up on these sorts of drugs…(panadol included). I can't recommend enough trying medication out before the flight!! If they work and you're comfortable with it, hats off to you! Otherwise, your best bet is to take your little one's favourite toy, any creature comforts and hope for the best.....keep their routine as normal as possible in the lead up to your flight, so you're not starting on the back foot. And from the mouth of my very own pediatrician: "Young children - feed them! Older children - buy a dvd!" Yep! It kinda sums it up really. I know if you're still not familiar with flying with children you're probably feeling a little anxious (ok sweating bullets might be more accurate)….but try to relax. Ask yourself, what's the worst that can happen? So Johnny Junior cries most of the way; passengers give you filthy looks and wonder what sort of parenting school you attended, you don't get to the toilet and only manage to shovel in a bread roll? Don't stress, those pesky passengers will get over it the minute their well-rested tootsies hit the ground, running. And you, you'll get over it the minute you see your beloved family on the other side! (Or that luxurious hotel suite.) I promise.... Pssst... just for the record, I (rather reassuringly) read in the in-flight magazine that 67 per cent of people would rather sit next to a whiney toddler on an airplane, over a smelly adult. (I can almost understand that given I was sitting next to a passenger doing that snorting in the back of his throat thing, every five seconds). So annoying, I started timing him…and possibly muttering something inaudible under my breath about 'manners!' What about you? Have you flown with small people in tow? What are your hot tips? Share them in the comments. I'd love to hear! ++For more in-depth details, Nicola Burke's blog Jetlag and Mayhem is brilliant. … [Read more...]
Strewth Mate! I Come From a Land Down Under
Latest Column for Expat Focus... G'day, If you're a regular reader of my ramblings, you probably know I've spent a fair bit of my writing time, wearing expat shoes and being quite vocal about the thrills and spills of culture shock - you know - stuff like: what happens when you find yourself catapulted into the arms of another country, anxiously wondering if this is simply a fling or a lasting love affair? Well, in answer to that - Hong Kong has me in its clutches, but Australia you'll always have my heart. (Awwww.) But on a recent trip back Down Under, it was kind of like running into an ex-boyfriend and finding something that had been so familiar, for so long, was suddenly quite alien. I think it's what they like to call "Reverse Culture Shock." Strewth mate! So where the bloody hell are you? To continue reading head over to Expat Focus - click here >>> … [Read more...]
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