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My oldest grandchild just turned 17. Ever since he was born, I have been planning for the time I could take him, his sister and their cousins on a trip. Just us, no “adults.” I confess to priming them for the event as early as when Max was soaring on his favorite ride, the swing, and we chanted, “What are you doing?” “Flying.” “Where are you flying?” “To Italy!” And, the postcards from every country I ever visited. One to each. Occasionally, the parents, but always one to grandchildren.
So, this was the summer–while they were still willing to travel with a grandmother and not totally engrossed with friends. Now or never.
Logistics are a problem with most travel but trying to coordinate between two families in two different places is beyond problematic. The end result was to take two trips, back-to-back, with siblings, to a place of their choosing. Europe was the choice with different destinations for the two groups. Here follows the tale.
Max and Zoё chose Germany and anything close. Of course, Germany (Berlin, Dresden, Munich, Neuschwanstein) got expanded to include the Czech Republic (Prague), Belgium (Brussels and Brugge) and Holland (Amsterdam and Haarlem). Airbnb was our primary source for accommodations (that and two wonderful friends, Diana and Palmer!) and our experience was mostly favorable. Of course the favorite of the teenagers was the “bachelor pad.” Inappropriate sayings sprayed on the wall, xbox and a forest of wires for the electronics, dimming multi-colored lights leaning towards red. But the real clue was discovered by my granddaughter. Coming from the bathroom, she confirmed that it was indeed a bachelor’s pad. The toilet was fixed with duct tape. A problem later but still part of the fun.
And fun we had from the discovery of the gypsy camp to Mad King Ludwig’s castle and everything in between. Only a few incidences of sheer panic, always on my part and usually having to do with missed or almost-missed connections, and many u-turns. Navigationally handicapped, those nifty little city maps downloaded on the iPhone were a godsend. Every day was a day of discovery and a lot of wandering, clocking a minimum of ten miles a day. For two amazing weeks we caught early morning trains, not the norm for growing teenagers, ate lots of bratwurst, sampled newly discovered dishes, visited museums, cruised canals in pedal boats, rode bicycles and stayed out late. A perfect start.
A mere ten days later, I was off to LA to pick up the next two, sadly leaving behind the eight-year-old, but a paper cut-out joined us. Their first choice was probably France, but my daughter gets that one as she spent a year in Paris–it’s only fair. Where did they choose? According to Gavin, “Grandma owns Italy!” and Eleanor was delighted with the choice. What’s not to like about long meals and lots of pasta? Finally, flying with grandchildren to Italy. Once again, Airbnb satisfied our housing needs except for a three-day home exchange in Venice. Mostly I got those right. Where I erred was in forgetting the heat and how, even though the sites said “air conditioned,” this was not a universal understanding of “air conditioned.” And it was hot. That said, we managed with my wisest inclusion in my bag, the spritzer bottle and Vape for those ubiquitous mosquitos.
From Rome and its fantastic antiquities to Florence with its art treasures, from day trips to Siena and that “tower” in Pisa to cycling the walls of charming Lucca, from gondolas on the Grand Canal to the colorful houses of Burano, to Cremona, the home of the modern violin with its incredible collection of ancient instruments to our flight out of Milan, we feasted on pasta, including the inky variety, cinghiale, and lots of gelato–at least twice a day, sometimes more–coveted shade, napped at mid-day, spritzed our faces to cool and stayed out late. Another amazing two weeks and a perfect ending to a perfect summer.
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