Hot Gipsy Babe
Anyone who has ever taken a baby anywhere vaguely off-piste has probably encountered the same vibes of disapproval that met our announcement that we were taking the H to Borneo. Okay, aside from the fact that the very word Borneo conjurs for many the image of some heart-of-darkness malaria infested tropical hellhole, there are also plenty who think that once you have a child you ought to remain in domestic purdah for, oooh, about 18 years. That if you choose to travel, you are imposing wilfully selfish ambitions upon your poor disoriented offspring, wantonly fracturing the vital routines that define and give meaning to their very existence.
Yeah, right. Like most parents, I'm not immune to guilt, and I did think twice about taking H somewhere exotic. D and I went to Borneo 11 years ago and we did have a rather different trip. But I think it's important to say to anyone contemplating travelling with a baby that it can be done, and done successfully. It's just a question of planning it and being more organised. Some compromises were made - we took some activities in turn rather than together so that one of us could babysit. We stayed in better quality accommodation, so that we had airconditioning and decent bathroom facilities. We spent some evenings quietly playing scrabble while the H slept. We worked around everything else - yes, H has a routine, but one which deliberately revolves around portable things (particular toys and songs, for example). We purchased quality travel insurance. I took detergent with me and scrubbed things I felt I needed to. And I would not have taken him anywhere that meant malarial medication for him, as that's not something I would be comfortable with, personally.
But yes, we rode in taxis where he was unsecured in the back seat. We stayed in the jungle where we were hours away from medical help. We took him hiking for hours in hot and humid conditions. We took what some people would consider to be unacceptable risks and we took them because we really wanted to go back to Borneo and we thought that we would all have fun doing it. I don't know where that puts us on the spectrum of responsible parenthood. I have a good friend who singlehandedly took his two year old daughter sailing around Scotland, tethered to the deck of his tiny boat, and even used her as a deckhand. When his elder daughter was three he took her and her 9 month old sister camping and hillwalking in the highlands. He's a wonderful father, but some people were horrified. Conversely, I know parents who never venture out of the house between 12 and 2 on any day as 'that's when the baby sleeps'. I know parents who refuse to get their child vaccinated, parents who smoked cigarettes while pregnant, parents who use their children as emotional frisbees. Parents who drag their toddlers out to restaurants late at night and then complain that their sleeping patterns are terrible. So on the Extreme Parenting scale, going to Borneo is quite pathetically tame.
Doing a round-the-world trip with a 2 year old, an idea which is currently in the formenting stage, may rank a notch higher. Oh dear, I've written this idea down. That makes it much more likely to happen.
What about the positives? A long holiday together meant much more quality time with Daddy - H is never happier than when in the backpack carrier on D's back. I now have a treasured memory of the three of us walking along the boardwalk path from Deer Cave in Gunung Mulu National Park at sunset, with H doing lots of frog and bird impressions as the light faded and the rainforest came alive with sounds. Even at such a young age he seemed to get a lot out of being in a different and interesting place. And we managed to avoid him getting bitten or sunburnt, my two major concerns. On average, the number of tantrums and the amount of crying was significantly less than it would be on a day at home. H has, like his father, a very low boredom threshold. So he adored meeting the local children and we found that meeting and chatting to people is easy with a baby to break the ice.
The only time we questioned ourselves on this trip was at the end of day 2. We thought he was struggling to adjust to the heat. His little cheeks were scarlet; he was grizzly and cross and not his usual self. D and I indulged in a little self-flagellation - maybe we had been stupid to expect him to hit the ground running in a strange place, maybe he was dehydrating, what would we do if he got worse? When, the following day, we discovered that a new tooth had poked through his gums, and he was back to his normal chirpy self, we felt pretty stupid. Teeth! If I'd been at home, I would at least have had the nous to administer some panadol and wait it out. Duh.
Yeah, right. Like most parents, I'm not immune to guilt, and I did think twice about taking H somewhere exotic. D and I went to Borneo 11 years ago and we did have a rather different trip. But I think it's important to say to anyone contemplating travelling with a baby that it can be done, and done successfully. It's just a question of planning it and being more organised. Some compromises were made - we took some activities in turn rather than together so that one of us could babysit. We stayed in better quality accommodation, so that we had airconditioning and decent bathroom facilities. We spent some evenings quietly playing scrabble while the H slept. We worked around everything else - yes, H has a routine, but one which deliberately revolves around portable things (particular toys and songs, for example). We purchased quality travel insurance. I took detergent with me and scrubbed things I felt I needed to. And I would not have taken him anywhere that meant malarial medication for him, as that's not something I would be comfortable with, personally.
But yes, we rode in taxis where he was unsecured in the back seat. We stayed in the jungle where we were hours away from medical help. We took him hiking for hours in hot and humid conditions. We took what some people would consider to be unacceptable risks and we took them because we really wanted to go back to Borneo and we thought that we would all have fun doing it. I don't know where that puts us on the spectrum of responsible parenthood. I have a good friend who singlehandedly took his two year old daughter sailing around Scotland, tethered to the deck of his tiny boat, and even used her as a deckhand. When his elder daughter was three he took her and her 9 month old sister camping and hillwalking in the highlands. He's a wonderful father, but some people were horrified. Conversely, I know parents who never venture out of the house between 12 and 2 on any day as 'that's when the baby sleeps'. I know parents who refuse to get their child vaccinated, parents who smoked cigarettes while pregnant, parents who use their children as emotional frisbees. Parents who drag their toddlers out to restaurants late at night and then complain that their sleeping patterns are terrible. So on the Extreme Parenting scale, going to Borneo is quite pathetically tame.
Doing a round-the-world trip with a 2 year old, an idea which is currently in the formenting stage, may rank a notch higher. Oh dear, I've written this idea down. That makes it much more likely to happen.
What about the positives? A long holiday together meant much more quality time with Daddy - H is never happier than when in the backpack carrier on D's back. I now have a treasured memory of the three of us walking along the boardwalk path from Deer Cave in Gunung Mulu National Park at sunset, with H doing lots of frog and bird impressions as the light faded and the rainforest came alive with sounds. Even at such a young age he seemed to get a lot out of being in a different and interesting place. And we managed to avoid him getting bitten or sunburnt, my two major concerns. On average, the number of tantrums and the amount of crying was significantly less than it would be on a day at home. H has, like his father, a very low boredom threshold. So he adored meeting the local children and we found that meeting and chatting to people is easy with a baby to break the ice.
The only time we questioned ourselves on this trip was at the end of day 2. We thought he was struggling to adjust to the heat. His little cheeks were scarlet; he was grizzly and cross and not his usual self. D and I indulged in a little self-flagellation - maybe we had been stupid to expect him to hit the ground running in a strange place, maybe he was dehydrating, what would we do if he got worse? When, the following day, we discovered that a new tooth had poked through his gums, and he was back to his normal chirpy self, we felt pretty stupid. Teeth! If I'd been at home, I would at least have had the nous to administer some panadol and wait it out. Duh.
posted by MotherFluker @ 10:22 pm
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