ILLUSTRATION BY MARLEY ALLEN-ASH
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Many people talk about the joys and challenges of family travel with toddlers and teens. But what about the next phase: Travelling with adult children?
My wife Jill and I spent two weeks in Madeira and Lisbon with our 29-year-old daughter Claire and her partner Graham, then later that same year, a week in Amsterdam and Brussels with our 33-year-old son Martin and his partner Chantal.
We learned a lot and discovered that leadership roles on the road are shared but mostly reversed now. We did things on these trips that we wouldn’t do on our own, and their new travel approaches spurred reflection on our parenting.
First, it was a relief that our love of travel had been transmitted: Early family trips were marked by resistance ranging from sullen and passive to hostile and mutinous: A tear-filled meltdown at the Tower of London, stiff rejection of our plea for “just one last castle” in Spain and total refusal to leave the hotel movie channel in Nice, France.
In retrospect, these were effective strategies engaged by our then preteens against unrealistic plans. We had naïvely assumed that a compressed regimen of museums, churches and charming villages would miraculously spark the same appreciation and delight acquired by their parents over many years. Worthwhile travel lessons may have been absorbed, but at a deeper level than hoped-for epiphanies about Miro or Romanesque architecture.
Back then, bribery was critical to even minimal cultural engagement. A first European vacation necessitated a Lego purchase in Paris for a week without TV. Dodgy Internet cafes became mildly risky babysitters permitting brief but essential wine-based parental self-care. Food also bought temporary co-operation in Barcelona’s architectural walks.
Our bribe-in-reserve was the two-gelato day, powerfully applied before and after museums, and sometimes during. An historic wooden plough in the Museon Arlaten in Arles, France, might still bear the stain of an errant scoop of frutti di bosco.
But sometimes we went too far. Much was missed driving in Andalusia, Spain. They were instead enthralled by The Simpson’s 10th Anniversary Guide book.
Being in Korea reminded me that where I came from and where I live are both home
We saw vacations as liberation from domestic constraints. Travel makes the habits and restrictions of home life irrelevant. As author Don DeLillo once wrote “Tourism is the march of stupidity,” a grateful suspension of the pressure to always know what we are doing. Our kids must have felt this freedom from routine too because now, as adults, we’ve noticed they still enjoy travelling with their parents.
Perhaps it was the shift in power – vacation partners now, not victims. They assumed responsibility for our comfort and enjoyment: ensuring we were stimulated, well-fed and not over-fatigued. In Amsterdam and Brussels, Martin and Chantal scheduled and booked flights, hotels, trains and restaurants. One late night, when we missed dinner, they had food delivered to our hotel. How they did this in a foreign country was beyond our imagination.
In Madeira, Graham expertly steered a car rental through cliffside curves that would have stressed this 70-ish driver. Smoke billowing from front brakes was handled calmly. Claire found a nearby mechanic who told us excessive brake wear was typical for tourists unused to the steep terrain. The confidence of youth turned worry for parents into unexpected delight: The recommended 30 minute cooling period prompted a beer at a remote hillside shack.
In the cities, Jill and I learned “Google-Uber” travel. Our usual approach was carefully planned days focused around a major site like a museum, supplemented by highly rated restaurants, interesting neighbourhoods and nearby architectural sites. All this planning minimized our travel time and cost as we expertly used public transit.
Our children had little patience for what seemed a fussy and antiquated waste of time. Instead of intricate planning, they favoured spontaneity. After a museum, we would decide where we wanted to go next – in the moment! Then take a ride-share. While we missed the immersive company of locals on buses and subways, we gained fascinating insight into the lives of each city’s ride-share drivers.
Instead of choosing restaurants in advance for strategic location, Google Maps allowed us to choose from highly rated, and importantly, currently open, restaurants within a 10-minute radius.
These lessons were not just about travel, but also suggested an alternative to our deliberate and cautious parenting. Such reflection wasn’t new. When Claire was about six, she asked for a colourful, cheap toy at a local street fair. My wife’s visiting cousin bought it for her. Claire still tells of her amazement that it came without a lecture on the toy being trashy or an inquisition on why she needed it.
Looking back, did we instill habits of being practical and thoughtful, or did our scrutiny analyze and calculate the joy out of things? The balance intended may not be the balance resulting.
For long-time empty nesters, a vacation together with grown children is a reunion with the results of a job well done, or at the very least, done.
Of course, parents know that any vindication of parenting is temporary; worry and doubt are largely a permanent parental condition.
Chester Fedoruk lives in Toronto.