Travelling with a 16 month old

Friday 3 February

Three days before flying from Brisbane to London we decide to move out of our apartment and rent it - possibly not the most appropriate way to prepare for a month long tour! The Gods of packing pass a weary smile and we haul our last load at 6pm on Thurdsay night before arising at 5am Friday for an 8 hour flight. At Gold Coast airport I wait for the baby change room and am surprised to see a single man exit. When I enter the plume of cigarette smoke in the baby room it becomes much clearer - ew, who does that? After changing Ella while holding my breath and envisaging that terrible Youtube of a chubby baby smoking a cigarette, I confront the sneaky smoker. Denies it, then ignores me. Smoke detectors. Always a wise investment in an airport. Bikini clad meter maids or protecting babies from nicotine poisoning - it's your choice Gold Coast!
Toys, ipad, food and the combined powers of Tnee, Greg and I amuse Ella on the 8 hour flight. She seems quite at home!

Severe weather warning: snow is imminent!

Saturday 4 February

We disembark at Gatwick airport after a marathon 14 hour flight. Even though we had a glorious 12 hour stopover at a lush hotel in KL, we are all flattened by the huge journey. Tnee starts complaining about the cold ... and we're not even outside yet! The car hire lady alerts us to an imminent severe weather warning. It's 4.30pm and at 6pm it's meant to start snowing. This would be okay except that we need to 1. navigate our way to the next suburb to collect a baby seat and high chair, 2. get to a friends house a collect a portacot, 3. get to my Uncle's house in Essex BEFORE it starts to snow. Luckily the angel hire car lady gives us a free upgrade to a divine Peugot 708 wagon, my navigation skills are Jedi-like and the snow doesn't actually arrive until 9pm, one hour after we've eaten dinner in a cosy home and are ready to retire.

I wake up at 5am and the vision outside is like a picture postcard. About 15cm of fresh snow. Stunning.

Snow-mobile

Tuesday 7 February

It's been a couple of days of enjoying the snow and adjusting our body clocks. Time to scrape off the snow and get going to the West Midlands for our first show. The drive through snow-covered hillsides from Essex to Coleshill (just outside Birmingham) is dreamy. Even though the snow is apparently a headache for a lot of people, we can't get over how pristine everything looks when covered in a soft white layer of fluffy snow! After a pitstop to drop off gear and Ella with my cousin we race to the train station to collect Greg and motor straight to our first venue: Harvington Village Hall.

First snow for Tnee and Ella

Sunday 5 February














The vision of snow in this area is so beautiful. We three head off for a walk to the pretty Rayleigh High Street. Small children are hooting as they get slid along in sleighs, snowballs are hitting their targets and the local school playground has transformed into a winter wonderland.

Even with a bit of jet lag, Ella is fascinated by the snow and I am back in my six year old Manchester skin (before we emingrated to Australia) relishing the playtime.

Shakespeare country

Wednesday 15 February



Since we're just up the road from the Bard's hometown we decide to pay him a visit. Lunch is taken at a beautiful old, old pub in the tiny village of Henley-in-Arden. Were it not for the cars and mobile phone ads, you could easily feel as though you'd slipped into a back-to-the-future ride and landed five hundred years earlier. The high street is dotted with thatched roofs and tudor frontages and cobble stones underfoot make for happy challenges to pram navigation. After filling our bellies with beer and beans we drive a few more miles to Stratford-Upon-Avon where we circle round the bustling streets, revered theatres and picture-perfect surrounds. This is only partly choice as we seem to be caught on a road direction sign that keeps us going in circles over the river, around the river, down the road and over the river, down the road ... Finally we stop at the beautiful Holy Trinity Church (burial grounds of Shakespeare and Anne Hathaway) where Ella delights in running wild around the grounds. Tnee and I face the parent's dilemna "Is it wrong to let my child dance on a gravestone"? I am sure William would be okay with a little graveside jig.