“How was your trip?”

 If I had a dollar for every time we got asked that question, we’d be off on another trip. Not that I mind that question at all, but it’s one that I find difficult to answer - so depending on who’s asking and how much time I think they have, I either respond with a polite “Good. Really good.” or I might pick out one aspect of the trip and talk about that briefly.

The trouble with answering this question is – how do you answer it? REALLY answer it? I’ve tried to ask myself the same question and each time I come up with different answers. So now that we’ve been back to our ‘normal’ lives in Sydney for a couple of weeks I’ll attempt to answer it once and for all – for me at the very least, and for anyone else who wants to know the real, unfiltered answer to the question.

So, how was our trip?

It was INCREDIBLE. Incredibly tiring. Incredibly challenging. Incredibly draining. Incredibly exciting. Incredibly liberating. Incredibly educational. Incredibly uplifting. Incredibly overwhelming. Incredibly satisfying.

Incredibly tiring.

Logistics alone would have you in a pickle if you weren’t slightly organised. Anyone who knows me knows that I am far from organised and fly by the seat of my pants most days. But you have to be organised and for me, that’s tiring.

You need to be organised to pack up your life in a 4-bedroom house in Sydney and live out of a few suitcases that not only need to fall within airline weight restrictions but, more importantly, need to fit in the back of a car. At some point in the middle of the year, we had help from our “luggage fairies” (family in Madrid, Spain and Zug, Switzerland who served as luggage drop off and storage points) but despite that, managing and packing our luggage for each move - we counted 51 - gets tiring. To complicate matters further, we had to plan our wardrobe and pack for changing seasons that ranged from an Arctic winter to a Mediterranean summer and everything in between. Arguing about what goes where and what fits where gets tiring. 

Then of course there’s the sightseeing. But that’s a fun kind of tired so I didn’t mind that too much. It comes with the territory. Rarely do I get the chance to get so physically exhausted that it hurts. Everything hurts and you’re so tired you can’t even sleep. That’s what happened when we hiked for 5 hours crossing over the border from France to Switzerland one day, only to go back and do it all over again the next day at Mont Blanc. By the end of that second day, it hurt…but it was worth it. Then there was that day in Sarajevo, Bosnia where I did 2 walking tours in one day in the blistering summer heat, then went on to do a 5 hour walk the next day in the mountains surrounding Sarajevo (again in blistering heat) with Jasmin – a local who fought with the Bosnian Army against the invading Bosnian Serbs. There was no way we would’ve missed that opportunity to hear about the war first hand, so we pushed. I pushed, ending the day curled in a ball in bed with one of the worst migraines ever.

Then there was that day back in March when we had to journey across 2 continents and 3 countries in 1 day getting from our hotel in Asilah, Morocco to our accommodation in Lagos, Portugal via Seville, Spain. Our Moroccan guide drove us from Asilah to Tangier Port (Morocco) to catch a non-existent 12 noon ferry, we then took the 2pm ferry across the Strait of Gibraltar to Tarifa (Spain), caught the bus from Tarifa to Seville, picked up the rental car and drove 3 hours to Lagos, Portugal...bags in tow. THAT was tiring.

There were a few of those during our trip – times where we pushed ourselves beyond exhaustion but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Otherwise, what was the point of even being there??!

Then there was the mental exhaustion when your brain has to work overtime trying to think and construct sentences in a different language... and decode a different language.  Out of the 10 months  spent in Europe and Morocco, we had 5 days in an English speaking city - London - where we could communicate freely, read signs without effort, read packaging, cooking instructions, and ingredients without having to think too hard. And just as we were starting to get used to key words in one language, we would move to a different country speaking another language. Sure there were English speaking people in most places but, apart from that, you're on your own (with Google Translate) to figure everything else out. It got to a point where I had gotten so used to simplifying my English using basic words so I could be understood that I felt my English starting to go downhill. There were at least 9-10 languages we had to navigate (not including Spanish dialects in the Basque Country or Galicia).

So it wasn’t all sunsets and margaritas but too much of that can get boring anyway.

Incredibly challenging.

This is where I reveal the ugly truth of long-term family travel. The trip was challenging on many fronts. Planning and managing the itinerary, managing the budget, researching, booking accommodation and transportation, keeping up with the kids’ formal schooling while ‘on the move’, taking care of things back in Sydney….

Luckily John is a Project Manager by profession so I was more than happy to leave most of the logistics of route planning, accommodation and transportation bookings, and budget management to him. He was even tracking our ‘burn rate’ on the budget. Who does that?? A Project Manager. Definitely a ‘must do’ though.

Meanwhile I took care of researching and planning the activities and sites to see, the kids’ (mostly Miguel’s) schooling, and anything else that needed attention back in Sydney. For the most part, I think this division of labour worked – although John might have a different view. We usually get along fine and can work as a team (after 22 years of marriage you would hope so!) so whilst it was challenging, this wasn’t really what I would consider ‘incredibly challenging’.

The incredibly challenging part comes from learning to live with a ‘new’ family dynamic – a dynamic where the 5 of us were all thrust together, living together 24/7 in a totally foreign environment doing things that were, in many ways, pushing personal boundaries. Add to that the fact that our kids are not so young with a wide age range (9, 15, 18) and, as with the nature of many teens, they can be quite outspoken (opinionated), strong-willed (stubborn), and self-absorbed (self-centred). Getting them interested and engaged in everything we, as parents, found interesting and engaging was not only incredibly challenging, it was downright emotionally exhausting. Whilst their input had been sought on the itinerary, we had a full year and different seasons… so we had to plan accordingly and couldn’t possibly do everything that everyone wanted within the first few months. That led to friction. A lot of friction.

Here we were, 5 of us, suddenly living with each other 24/7, often in tight spaces, in a totally foreign environment, forced to work as a team, totally dependent on each other. It was a pressure cooker waiting to explode and explode it did.

I hit my first low point 3 weeks into the trip spending Christmas Eve in tears. It was supposed to be one of the highlights of the trip – the White Christmas where we would all bond and have a magical and meaningful Christmas as a family. In the lead up there had been several arguments - few were getting sick of visiting Christmas Markets. And, apparently, on this night of nights, the same few were not as thrilled as I was about going to the little chapel in Obendorf (Austria) where the famous Christmas carol ‘Silent Night’ originated to hear it sung in the original German version by candle light on Christmas Eve. Nor were they thrilled about attending midnight mass in Salzburg Cathedral…and they made sure I knew it.

We were off to a rocky start in those early weeks with several arguments and yelling matches escalating to a child (who shall remain nameless) prematurely packing bags and catching the train solo to Zug, Switzerland for some time out. The  rest of us continued on with the planned journey from Vienna, Austria to the Czech Republic. This was early January –  4 weeks into our year away. It was going to be a loooonnnngggg year.

The ‘prodigal child’ eventually returned a week later to join us in Frankfurt, Germany enroute to our Lapland arctic adventure.

Add to this the different personalities of family members where you have a couple of ‘passive peacemakers’ and a few ‘loaded firecrackers’; a couple of ‘high energy’ individuals together with ‘I need my space’ individuals; a few ‘control freaks’ (ok maybe just one) and the ‘don’t tell me what to do’ types – all of which are magnified under the pressure and strains of travel. People don’t change. We weren’t going to change - but we somehow needed to learn to live with each other, function as a team, and enjoy each other’s company… THAT was the challenge – a mighty big one.

Good or bad, I now know more than I wanted to know about every family member’s personality - including my own - than I did a year ago.

Incredibly draining.

See above – ‘Incredibly tiring’ and ‘Incredibly challenging’. All of that sustained over an extended period of 13 months was incredibly draining.

After a day of hiking the Tre Cime in the Dolomites, Italy in early August I hit the lowest point in the trip as I stood outside our apartment staring at the beautiful mountain views. I was seething. It had been another day of fights – the family was sick of hiking - and I had had enough. What was the point of us coming all this way if we weren’t going to experience what the place had to offer?? I cursed myself for coming up with the idea for the year away. What was I thinking?? It was the worst idea ever, no one appreciated anything, it was a complete waste of time and money, a total and utter failure. I was ready to pull the plug and go home.

But, of course, after moments like this you just take a deep breath, pull your big girl socks up and keep going…

Incredibly exciting.

Who doesn’t get excited about travelling to a new place, meeting new people, doing new things? No explanation needed.

Everything was exciting. The Christmas markets; the snow storm; driving through the snow storm; dog-sledding in Lapland; learning about arctic life and people at the Arktikum; seeing the Northern Lights; learning and speaking Spanish; living in and exploring the back streets of Seville; engaging in local festivities; experiencing Northern Morocco; driving for hours across some of the most remote and scenic landscapes in Northern Spain; watching the sunset over Duoro river while sipping on Port wine in Porto, Portugal; market days at cute French villages; photographing and picnicking by the lavender fields in Provence; hiking in the French, Swiss and Italian Alps; walking through WW1 trenches in Italy; walking through bombed out ruins from the Croatian and Bosnian wars; swimming in the warm Mediterranean sea without fear of sharks or jelly fish; driving through deserted mountain roads in Bosnia; catching several ferries across countries and continents; meeting and speaking to convicted criminals; swimming with the turtles and jelly fish…

It’s all exciting…to the point that exciting becomes the new normal.

Incredibly liberating.

There’s a joke between John and I (more his joke than mine) that I am the CFO (Chief Financial Officer) but he is the CEO. Read into that what you will but it’s an undisputed fact that I am the family financial controller. From managing investments and savings to paying bills, to organising all sorts of insurance, to staying on top of our tax obligations… I do it all. So it was incredibly liberating to let go of that for a whole year and let John manage the budget and finance for our trip away. I would just ask for money when I needed it and spent it when I needed to. That felt so good - so good that I refused to look at my emails or check the physical mail received online for the first 7 months to find out what was going on back in Sydney. I don’t think I even checked our bank balances. I didn’t care, nor did I want to know. Before leaving I ensured we had tied up all loose ends but if something was overlooked or came up while we were away – too bad. I needed a break. By July there was a pile of physical mail waiting for us in Switzerland care of my sister-in-law who flew in from Sydney. Needless to say, there were a few fires that needed to put out by that stage… but I had had a good break from it all by then.

Apart from the obvious freedom of not having to work during the year, what was equally refreshing was not having to run around trying to juggle schedules on weekends filled with sporting commitments, kids’ birthday parties, and other social obligations. It was just us. We owned our time and had full control over that time. We did what we wanted, when we wanted – without having to consider anyone else. That probably sounds incredibly selfish but I’m sure if everyone just stopped and thought about it, you would realise how much of your time you really don’t own. Some might be totally fine with that. I wasn’t.

Incredibly educational.

One of the key reasons for this trip was education. A chance to expose the kids (and ourselves) to different lives, cultures, historical places, and experiences.

We learned about the Spanish and Portuguese conquests and the Spanish Inquisition relating them back to our history and roots in the Philippines. From the Spanish side we learned how religion was used as a means of control over colonies and people and the abuses committed as a result. 

We learned more about the cruelty of WW2 with a visit to Dachau Concentration Camp and saw how these camps were designed for mass murder; we understood how these camps and the cruelty within remained a mystery to their neighbours; we learned how Hitler rose to power ending with the war crime convictions that followed in the famous Nuremburg Trials; we stood on the podium where Hitler stood at the Nazi Party rally grounds in Nuremburg where he addressed thousands of his followers as I tried to gain a perspective and understand the popularity and appeal of one of the most evil men in history. We learned how Switzerland, a country that had positioned itself as neutral territory during WW2, was prepared for an invasion from the Axis troops (Italy) with several military fortresses built into their mountains. Until recently, these fortresses were unknown to the outside world. We stayed in the village where the Italian dictator, Mussolini, was eventually executed outside a home near Lake Como as he tried to escape to Switzerland towards the end of WW2.

We learned about WW1 beyond Gallipoli and how it all started in a tiny city called Sarajevo. We walked the WW1 trenches of the Dolomites where there was intense fighting between Austro-Hungarian and Italian troops, ending in Austro-Hungarian defeat.

John learned how to drive in the snow – in a snow storm, in fact. He learned how to shovel snow off a car, scrape ice off a windscreen, discovered that you need to plug the car in overnight or it won’t start the next morning, and how making a last-minute decision to turn right when driving on icy roads leads you into a pole.

We learned about the Sevillanos and their way of life - how a city that on the outside appears to be entrenched in religious tradition to the point of fanaticism is actually quite divided on the inside. We learned about Sarajevo and how Sarajevans manage to retain a sense of humour and optimism despite the cruelty they have lived through. We experienced Polar Nights and arctic life which is a world away from the life we have on the opposite end of the globe down under. For the first time I learned to appreciate cave art and an entire civilisation from an era that I had little interest in before discovering the caves of Lascaux and Les Eyzies, France.

We learned about the former Yugoslavia - a region we knew very little about. So little that I wasn't even sure what Yugoslavia was. Nor was I sure if the war in Bosnia was actually over.  We learned about Sarajevo and what really happened there, and elsewhere in Bosnia. As a teen in the 90s, Bosnia and Sarajevo had become familiar names to me for all the wrong reasons. We learned about the wars that led to the break-up of Yugoslavia, and how people felt about life then and now. We saw how countries faced with war can take years to recover - if at all. I shudder to think what the future holds for Syria and other war torn countries. 

We learned that being able to speak 3 languages is the norm for most Europeans, while the Moroccans that we met are able to speak 5-6 languages. Being able to speak English is a definite advantage but quite useless when travelling outside key cities… and if it’s the only language you can and are willing to speak then good luck.

Despite the proximity of countries to each other within Europe, the progress and prosperity of a neighbouring country stops at the border, as with the language. The cultural division between neighbouring countries and cultures is so pronounced, it’s amusing. The French and Spanish, the Spanish and Portuguese, the Swiss and Italians, the Croatians and Bosnians, the Italians and Austrians. Groups of people can be so different yet are all the same. Despite the wars that they’ve been through and the political bull dust they’re now living in, everyone just wants security, a means of making a decent living, and to be able to get on with their lives.

You’re never too old to get educated.

Incredibly uplifting.

When you spend a day with someone who has been shot at, who has witnessed cruelty and death and has faced death himself, who was betrayed by friends who wanted to kill him, yet somehow manages to maintain a sense of humour and optimism despite that, you can’t help but be in awe - and feel incredibly grateful for the life that you have devoid of that cruelty and need for survival. Suddenly my woes about daily traffic on the M2 and the ridiculous cost of living in Sydney paled in comparison. I have no doubt that Jasmin and his family suffer invisible scars from the war in Sarajevo, but their survival and optimism are a testament to the resilience of the human spirit. We can all learn from people like him.

Likewise, when you realise that you can have conversations and communicate with people without a common language. Despite seemingly having nothing in common, you have plenty in common. It just takes a willingness to listen and understand.

The world is a safe place and people are kind. This is what we experienced on this trip, and previous trips, where we’ve ventured outside our comfort zone to places and countries where our safety may have been deemed questionable. Questionable only due to our ignorance and unfamiliarity with the place. Bosnia is one country I didn’t imagine us going to, ending up there merely by chance. Yet it’s turned out to be one of the most interesting places we’ve visited. Our first foray into the predominantly Muslim country of Morocco several years ago washed away our fears and gave us one of our best travel experiences, so much so that we went back again on this trip to explore a different part. Even conversations with a convicted murderer and rapist at Iwahig Prison in the Philippines challenged my prejudices, making me realise that not every convicted person is, or should be treated, as a lost cause. Many people are there because of poverty and circumstance, not because they’re a murderous psychopath.

It's uplifting to see that despite all the craziness peddled in the media, when you get out into the real world, people are inherently good and the world is generally a safe place. Wars aren’t started by people from different cultures or religions. They’re started by idiots.

Incredibly overwhelming.

See ‘Incredibly exciting’.

We saw some of the most beautiful monuments, walked through many interesting cities, and hiked and drove across some of the most breathtaking landscapes. Doing that over an extended period gets overwhelming. Feeling the need to see it all and do it all gets overwhelming.

There were many times when I wanted to do more, but our bodies (and minds) couldn’t keep up. In Bosnia, we wanted to go to Srebrenica, then I wanted to go to Serbia; in Switzerland, I wanted to go up and hike around the Matterhorn; in the Philippines, I wanted to go to Bataan. There were many things I still wanted to do but, in the end, I couldn’t keep up with myself.

Incredibly satisfying.

The biggest satisfaction comes from knowing we didn’t throw the towel in and come home early like we had threatened to several times, to not have that ‘what if’ or ‘should have’ hanging over our heads. We did what we set out to do. Had we thrown the towel in too early we wouldn’t have seen the fruits of our earlier challenges.

The family dynamics changed from the rocky start and by the end of the trip we learned to deal with (or tolerate) each other better – I think.

Kat and Bea developed a sisterly bond which I didn’t think was possible – from sharing make up tips, to sharing clothes and ‘boy notes’. I put it down to their sharing a room in most places – something they don’t have to do at home in Sydney. We also learned the art of compromise – I let them skip some sightseeing on the condition that they needed to participate in activities deemed ‘non-negotiable’ without fuss and attitude. I feel both sorry and disappointed for them – for the things they missed out on because they preferred to stay home and watch Netflix. I will never understand it but had to pick my battles.

We identified the ‘high energy’ individuals and called them out when their energy was disrupting other family members’ peace. With the number of hours spent on the road, there was also a lot of conversation – more than we would have had leading our ‘normal’ lives in Sydney under one roof but totally detached from one another. The kids talked about and consulted us on career and educational choices, dreams and goals. I liked having the open conversations and being able to impart some ‘parental wisdom’ about their choices. Then there was the endless nagging (negotiation) about getting a dog when the trip was over.

We settled into our roles in Team Travel so we were no longer stepping all over everyone and getting in each other’s way. By the end of it, everyone either knew what they needed to do or accepted that they needed to do something and not be an idle spectator. At some point on our 5-month road trip I became redundant as co-captain (happily so) while Kat took over the packing, navigation, and coordination of arrival times with our hosts – many of whom didn’t speak English. When she decides to travel the world on her own, she’ll be more prepared than others her age.

Bea and Miguel have developed a sense of independence and confidence that wasn’t there before. They too have grown up before my eyes.

Lastly, and probably most importantly, I’ve come home more content.

Before the trip, I had visions of grandeur wanting to leave the Big Smoke, to live in a small village in rural France or Spain. I wanted to get away from everyone and everything that was going on around me, around us. If we had to work, I wondered whether we could move to London and start a new life there, or even Spain, Germany, or France. Anywhere but Sydney.

In hindsight, I think we were simply burnt out – I was burnt out – not by work, but by life. It seems we have it pretty good in Sydney – or Australia in general. I know people keep saying that but until you get to see the other side, you don’t really know where the grass is greener.

Where else can you take a year off work and come back to your job? American, Spanish, English, Portuguese, French, Swiss, Filipino…. it didn’t matter who we talked to – this was never heard off in their part of the world. It should be, but it isn’t.

Distance education… Australia is set up for it – not just at University level but in Primary and Secondary levels. Again, unheard off with many. Home schooling would probably be the closest but that’s a whole level harder than simply supervising a pre-determined curriculum and lesson plan. While I have my misgivings about the whole Distance Ed curriculum thing (ie. having to do 6 weeks’ worth of work on Coral Reefs while we were in the middle of the Alps with no sea nearby; or having to study about ancient Egyptian pyramids when we are walking around the old city of Dubrovnik which is equally interesting), we are lucky to have it and to be able to use it as we try to raise socially aware children while keeping up with formal schooling requirements.

Needless to say, I no longer have the immediate desire to permanently run off to some remote village in Spain or France. It’ll always be there waiting - if and when we’re ready. For now, we're back where we need to be.

So in a nutshell, THAT was our trip. Congratulations if you've reached this point.