Pete has been travelling for work a lot lately. It’s unfortunate that his business travelling has picked up now, since we have a toddler and I can’t easily tag along with him. At his last job, he travelled overseas quite a bit, but when we met and he started working for a new company, there were no travel opportunities. He would make the odd trip to Montreal and that was about it.
But in the last three months, he has gone to Europe three times. The first trip was to the UK and that was in late February/ early March, and it was for NINE DAYS. That was far too long. The second trip was in April, and that time Pete spent six days in Munich and the UK. And now he is back in England for five days.
I wasn’t very envious the first time he went away. He was travelling in winter, and the weather was terrible (both at home, and in England). I was a little jealous that he got to tour Oxford and to see Lincoln Cathedral, but I got over it quickly.
The second trip, I felt a little more envy. I’ve only ever been to Berlin, and I would have loved to see Munich. But it turns out that Pete’s Munich hotel was terrible, and since it was adjacent to a strip club the noise would likely have kept Little C up all night. Plus, the few days he spent in England were in Slough, a suburb of London made famous by The Office (UK version, of course). Not a place I’m dying to visit.
But this time, Pete is staying near the picture-perfect town of Arundel, in southern England. He’s close to the sea. It’s late May. I’m imagining flowers in bloom and swans in the river. I’m wishing I could be taking a tour of Arundel Castle and visiting the cathedral.
Pete and I did actually consider going together, with C, to England this time. He wasn’t travelling with any colleagues, and it seemed possible for us to come along. But when we considered the logistics, we decided against it. Touring a castle with a 21-month-old would probably be a disaster. Pete would be in meetings all day and I would have to keep C fed, amused and happy all day alone in a strange town. Having to put a toddler to bed at 7 pm every night in a tiny hotel room didn’t sound like much fun. But despite our decision, I’m feeling sorry for myself.
As I’ve written here before, I love travelling. I love England. I’ve pored over history books and I’ve told Pete all about the significance of Arundel and its castle (his summary: the Duke of Norfolk is the dukiest of dukes).
My parents have assured me that someday, when our kids are a little older, we’ll be able to travel again. It still won’t be the same sort of fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants travelling we used to do, but it will be possible.
In the meantime, I’m consoling myself with upcoming summer plans. They’re less impressive than a trip overseas, but they will likely be more relaxing.
The first will be a bachelorette trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake (Ontario’s wine country) in June. My lovely friend Anna is getting married and we’ll be celebrating with her at a cottage by the lake.
In July, Pete and I are taking a babymoon of sorts, in Algonquin Park. Even though we had a great time camping with C there last year, we’re hoping to have a little alone time before the new baby arrives. So we’ll be leaving her with her grandparents and heading up for a relaxing weekend of paddling and hiking.
And now, a question for parents out there. Have you managed to travel with little ones? Share your wisdom!