I’ve been fortunate to travel a good deal over the years. This is one of the areas of memory that appears to be more intact than others. Over the last 8 years, the most pleasurable and memorable trips have been the ones that have involved the whole family. When our twin grandchildren, Emma and Jacob, were four years old they, with their parents, their aunt and her friend, and our French cousin, all stayed in a little house in the south of France (Port Grimaud) on a lovely vacation. At that time, playing on the beach, “fishing” with a branch and string from our little boatless dock, hearing another language spoken by everyone else, and learning to love croissants and cheeses were lovely experiences. I do remember Jake sighing on his return to California: “Back to bagels” when he couldn’t get croissants that tasted like the ones in France.
We returned to the same area when Emma and Jacob were eight, with the same cast plus our cousin’s ex-wife and her dog, Titou. This time the children were ready for some branching out to other sights in other towns. There was awareness and appreciation of the obvious great age of places they visited – so different from California. They wanted to return to the castle ruins they remembered climbing in Port Grimaud when they were little, and were very aware of the soccer excitement in Europe. They were travel-savvy enough to go on to England to visit Aunt Andie’s friend Geoff’s home in Wales and the Cutty Sark and British Museum in London. London was full of people and energy, but they loved the pace and countryside near Wales the best. (Sheep roaming freely through town was a big hit!)
Just two years ago, for our 50th wedding anniversary, the group assembled in a lovely villa near Arezzo, in Tuscany. At ten, living in a very old villa, walking to a nearby village for dinner, enjoying brief explorations in museums and churches, and shopping for local cheeses, pastas, and gelato were among the highlights. When Aunt Andie arranged for a tour, with driver, of nearby towns and an ancient winery, there was something to enjoy for every age level. Back at the villa playing Yahtzee on a 500 year-old table was memorable – just like home, but so different.
Going on for several days to Barcelona was icing on the anniversary cake. The Rambla through ten-year old eyes was a daily feast for the eyes, as was the amazing Gaudi architecture. Imagine seeing a huge cathedral, the Sagrada Familia, still a work in progress, and glimpsing how it is really built, and playing at the Miro Museum. A reminder of how expanded their world is compared with ours when we were young came when they were able to talk by cell-phone to friends boarding a tram in the Swiss Alps while Emma and Jake were in Barcelona.
It’s easy and great fun to plan the kind of trip that accommodates the interests of young and older children. And it’s so gratifying when they enjoy the experiences and you see them grow as a result. Seeing other parts of the world through the eyes of four-, eight-, and ten-year olds truly sharpened our own vision as we watched them blossom as traveling companions with a broadening view of the world and their place in it. We hope they’ll retain wonderful memories of our travels together. Gram and Grampop certainly will. [Leave a comment here.]
ElderChicks 
Wonderful people produce wonderful children! All of you are delightful, one at a time and en masse. I wish for many more trips for all of you together.
WHAT A LOVELY ARTICLE !!
YOU ARE A WONDERFUL AND ARTICULATE WRITER !
YOU ARE A TOUGH ACT TO FOLLOW !!!
ADELE
I’m looking forward to the next episode in a year or two. I’m sure all of you are too.
In 1961, I started to travel by sea, air and bus and have visited about 90 countries. There have been many memorable experiences one of which happened in 1982 when I was traveling with my friend, Julia, who had never been out of California . We were riding on Eurail from Athens, Greece across Europe to Lisbon, Portugal where we were to pick up a ship back to Athens sailing threw the Mediterranean. We had been carrying water bottles with us and when we were waiting for our train in Madrid we decided that since we were going to be on the train until we arrived in Lisbon there wouldn’t be any need for them so we gave them to some young back-packers. When we got on the train our passports were collected by a man who didn’t wear a uniform and Julia became hysterical and finally calmed down when I told her that I saw him turn them over to the conductor. The cabin had two phones , a sink and our bunk beds. At six in the morning I went to the bathroom and when I returned my phone rang and I was told to dress and pack immediately. Once again Julia was in a frenzy about her passport until I looked out and saw them being delivered to the lined up passengers. We were all thrown off the train with out a word of explanation until a couple of broken down ancient buses appeared. We were told that the buses would take us to Lisbon since the rail workers were on a one day strike.
The seats on the bus were just rows of backless planks! We didn’t have any water, Julia hadn’t been able to go to the bathroom and the only food we had was half a roll of mints. We hadn’t eaten since our early dinner the night before. The bus drivers didn’t seem to know the route and after a lot of map studying and many arguments we set off. Some four or five hours later we arrived at a village where we were able to use the bathroom at the local bar. We tried to buy some food but we didn’t have Portuguese money so were out of luck. When we arrived at the train station in Lisbon we were able to change our money so that we could get a cab to the courtesy Hotel where we were to be picked up by the Cruise Ship. After washing up we went out to get some food and found an outdoor cafe were we sat down and immediately started to eat the rolls when the lady next to me said that they only served full meals, since we just wanted coffee and the rolls we left leaving a tip. We finally found another cafe and when we entered saw it filled with men who laughed at us but the owner saw that we were tourist that seemed to be lost and invited us in, when we told him our problem he served us coffee and cake. We were finally picked up by the Cruise Ship and had a wonderful cruise back to Athens and shared our experience with our fellow travelers. More happened on the way back to the States but that will have to wait for another telling.
You have all written wonderful, fascinating stories about your delightful travels. My husband and I are no longer travelers, except to go to Florida, starting in October. (That sounds like being a vegetarian except for burgers.) Yet I must admit that at 75, I can no longer say that I am middle-aged, unless I live to be 150. In the meantime, I have two 13-year-old grandsons (first cousins) who are going to be Bar Mitzvah-ed in three weeks and I must tell you that I am not thrilled with myself; I’m not crazy about my dress, my shoes will hurt due to the higher heels, and instead of losing the 20 pounds I intended to lose over the past year (which amounts to not even two pounds a month), I have gained three pounds and have to buy a REAL GIRDLE.
Yet, I do have blessings to count: When I say this, my husband always says, looking at the sky, “one, two” and then he stops. I know I shouldn’t complain because I am very fortunate that my 76 year-old husband is healthy and takes no pills (he wouldn’t remember what to take or when to take it anyway), and we both love living where we live in center city Philadelphia and walking wherever we can, even though we compromised four and one-half years ago by moving into a one bedroom condo from a three bedroom in the suburbs. (Downsizing.) I loved that we were able to downsize so easily and comfortably. We entertain a lot, bicker about his driving too fast, and laugh constantly at and with each other. We find humor in everyday life, and try not to take ourselves too seriously. But I am worried – where do I find a girdle? I am open to suggestions.
I’m sure you’ll look beautiful at the Bar Mitzvah. Are you sure you need a girdle? How about a lovely over-blouse? A caftan? A medley of stoles? I think this is a question for Rosemarie Bauchemin!
I think you should look in your mother’s hope chest. My mother thought I should include a girdle in my trousseau along with two house dresses –just on general principles. I refused to do that and a few other things –also on general principles. Leave the girdle and the too high heels at home and enjoy the beauty of the day instead.