Though our travel itineraries prevented us from meeting up again, we’ve stayed in touch with Nikos and Georgia. We’ve followed their travels, which led them back to Europe, then onward through North and South America. When they decided to write an e-book about Traveliving (which I helped edit), I even featured them on my blog.

So when we found out we would be traveling to Greece this summer, they were obviously the first to know. Normally they were planning on still beeing in South America, but, as fate would have it, earlier this year they decided to return to Greece because they’d found out they were pregnant!

We were pumped to get a chance to meet up after over five years, and when Nikos and Georgia offered us the use of their family home on the island of Evia, we knew it was an offer we couldn’t turn down.

Evia is one of Greece’s largest islands, but unlike Crete, it is little-known to foreigners. It receives almost no tourism at all, which is strange considering its proximity and accessibility (by bridge) to Athens. As intrepid travelers, Bruno and I always welcome the opportunity to visit a non-touristy destination. And after a very touristy few days in Athens and a ten-day stay in the popular island of Paros, Evia sounded like the perfect end to a well-balanced trip.

Nikos’ family home, in the hamlet of Agios Ioannis (just inland from Aliveri), is about as local as you can get. It’s a large traditional brick home surrounded by olive farms and decorated inside with religious art (made by Nikos’ mother) that gave the living room the air of an Orthodox Church. In the kitchen were jars of olives and jams and unidentified pickled goods, and by the stove, a pitcher of thick, golden olive oil hand-pressed by the Dimitriou family themselves. Outside, plants were potted in old pairs of boots (Bruno left them his holey five-year old sneakers for more planting opportunities!); old farm equipment was showcased, like a museum exhibit, along the exterior walls; and the tables, window frames, and doors were hand-painted with traditional farming scenes. We were definitely set up to do some proper traveliving here.

That’s exactly what we did. Our first morning we took an exploratory walk around the village. At its highest point was its church, fashioned with grey and white bricks, an old brick square at its feet. A few kids rode around on bicycles; nearby, a few elderly men drank thick, strong Greek coffee and stared at us. Actually, everybody stared at us – they definitely knew we weren’t locals (guess they don’t get many foreigners here). The village was tranquil, and, as we wandered down its roads, we picked fresh figs from the trees, and fed raw olives (also picked fresh from the trees) to the goats.

A lot of our time was spent in Nikos’ family home. This is just the reality of traveling with a child and wanting to cater to his needs and sleep schedule. We took our meals outside, surrounded by a few village cats (who received all of Phoenix’ leftovers). We bought our bread from the local bakery up the road. While Phoenix napped, we rested under the merciful shade-giving giant tree in the garden.

I was definitely in need of some serious rest. In Athens, I’d met up with my friend Erin, her partner, and her family, and gone out late two nights in a row. Then, out of our ten nights in Paros, I was out late seven of them, and five of them in a row – a dinner with Alex’s (the bride) family, the bachelorette party, a canape and cocktail rehearsal dinner, the wedding itself, and a hangover barbecue. Add to that bachelorette party planning, wedding prep, and a sunset boat ride – and keep in mind Phoenix was still waking me up every morning by 6:30am – and you can see why resting at the shade of our Evia tree was about all I could muster during those afternoons.

Thanks to our rental car, though, we did find some time to explore a few nearby places. One morning, we drove to a nearby bird reserve that I’d read about on Google maps. The birds were supposedly drawn to a little lake in the middle of the hills of this very arid island. In reality, the lake was almost non-existent, the birds too, and the place was almost inaccessible through the prickly bush past the farmland. At least we ran into a little ruin up on a nearby hill.

A better success was our visit to Kakolimano Beach, about 25km from our house. To drive here, we took small country roads inland up into the hills, and once we reached the top we began to see some pretty dazzling sea-views. The drive was so picturesque that, in itself, it was a wonderful outing. But then we came upon a little cove at the end of a small traditional village. The blue water was surrounded by rugged, rocky hills that called to mind northern Spain, or Scotland. Apart from a few locals, we had the beach to ourselves – no restaurants or rental beach chairs. Just pebbles and the sound of lapping waves, and gorgeously refreshing water. I actually went for a full-on, head-under-the-water swim (which is rare).

Kakolimano would have been reason enough to spend a week in Evia, but our real reason for being here was to see our Greek traveling friends, of course! They’d just had their baby boy a month earlier, and were currently based in Athens, so I actually wasn’t sure if they would indeed make it to Evia for the weekend, as planned. We were very grateful (and impressed) that they did – goodness knows you couldn’t have gotten me out of the house that first month postpartum!

Since we remember the newborn days oh-so-well, we made sure to have lots of wholesome food available to Nikos and Georgia, and to keep our days low-key. Rather than going to visit Aliveri or Eretria or yet another gorgeous beach, we just stayed home. Caught up. Watched baby Fivos sleep (and, let’s face it, cry too). Talked a lot about the challenges and joys of parenthood. And talked just as much about future travel plans.

Because, like us, Nikos and Georgia plan to travel again as a little family. They’re not sure yet how that’s going to look, and they are wisely going to spend the first year in Greece adapting to parenthood (yeah, they’re wiser than us, for sure). But one day soon, they are sure to install a car seat in their van and hit the road again. We are pretty sure Phoenix and Fivos will meet up on the road somewhere and be little baby nomads together. Cute.

On our last day in Greece, we returned to Kakolimano Beach for one last afternoon of Greek sun and sea. Just before heading home, I strolled alone up a dead-end road and took a little dirt path to the edge of a cliff. The view beyond was of deep blue sea and rugged coastline. The sea seemed endless; the wind swept my hair into my face; and a few white houses sparkled in the setting sun. And I thought to myself: this is Greece. This place with its rugged beauty, its endless sea, its feeling of aliveness.

Greece had been on my bucket list for almost fifteen years, and it was an absolute dream come true to finally step foot in this country and see what all the fuss was about. Maybe I didn’t explore as much of it as I’d have liked (having a toddler does limit you, let’s be real), but maybe that’s actually a bonus – because now we have an excuse to come back one day.

Thank you to Alex, for planning your wedding in Greece; thank you to Nikos and Georgia, for opening your family home to us; and thank you Greece for being so darn wonderful!

That graduation was thirteen years ago. Since then, I have not one, but TWO, failed attempts at visiting Greece. The first was a 2-week Greece-and-Italy trip with a friend that turned into an Italy-only trip once we arrived in Venice and realized 2 weeks was too short to visit two countries (rookie mistake!); the second was after our road trip through Turkey in 2015 when, due to Bruno’s date with a scalpel, we had to beeline through central Europe to get back to France rather than head into Greece.

So you can imagine that when my best friend, Alex, announced that she would be getting married in my #1 bucket list country, I didn’t need a lot of arm twisting to RSVP.

Our three week trip to Greece would include ten nights on the island of Paros, where Alex would be married, followed by an 8-day stay in the holiday home of some Greek overlanding friends we made many years ago in Kenya.

But first, we would [naturally] start our Greece adventure in Athens. Though I’d heard more than once that Athens wasn’t a great travel destination – hot, dirty, overly-touristy – this Greek philosophy buff was pretty pumped to see some of the most important sites in all of western civilization!

We hit the ground running. Or should I say I hit the ground running. Unsurprisingly, I had made a pretty long list of things I wanted to see and do during our three full days in Athens, and they started the morning after our red-eye flight. But Bruno – not a city-lover under the best circumstances, but now also the father of a toddler – had other ideas. He was happy to do a wee bit of wandering, but with the heat and smog and traffic and jet lag, he actually preferred to stay home and let me check off my long list of sites alone. Way to take one for the team, Bruno!

It was pretty strange how normal it felt to be wandering a city alone, like I used to do back before my mothering days. I started things off – as I often do – with a free walking tour of the main historic sites. I like doing this because it gives me a historical overview as well as helping me get my bearings of the layout of the city and bookmark any key sites I want to return to later. This tour did the trick, and gave me two additional benefits: 1) it illuminated a few interesting sites that I didn’t know about, and 2) it assured me that most of Athens’ ancient ruins could be experienced satisfactorily without paying a ticket to enter the grounds.

As our tour guide led us from one ruin to another, we kept getting views of the most-famed site in perhaps all of Greece – the Acropolis. In fact, I caught my first few as I arrived in Monastiraki Square, where our tour group met (and it was glorious). Again and again, no matter where we were, the Acropolis would pop into view, towering over the city. It seemed like all roads in Athens lead to the Acropolis!

I was definitely pumped to get up to the Acropolis, but I wanted to be smart about visiting the site I’d waited so long to see. First – on the recommendation of my tour guide – I opted to check out the New Acropolis Museum. My boys came as well – it was calm and air-conditioned, after all. The museum holds most of the original items from the Acropolis (most things at the site itself are now replicas) and its layout is designed to model that of the Acropolis, too. That means that on the first floor going up are items found along the hillsides of the Acropolis, on the east side are things found on the east side of the Acropolis, and so forth. As a bonus, when the museum was built, ruins of ancient Athens were discovered underneath, so now you can descend below the museum and actually visit them!

On our second morning in Athens, I convinced the boys to wander the streets of ancient Plaka with me. It’s the most-touristy area of town, but it’s also very cute. Little orthodox churches hold space between shops and cafes, and ancient ruins rub shoulders with the traffic and construction of a modern megalopolis. It’s a charming neighborhood, though it definitely makes me want to pull out my wallet and spend money on stuff I can’t fit in my bus!

We also visited the Greek parliament to witness their hourly changing of the guards ceremony. Apart from the serious solemnity and pomp of the guards, it was quite a different ceremony from the one in Buckingham Palace. The Greek guards – who were all tall and slim – did a lot of slow leg kicking and leg-holding, rather than traditional marching. It was much smaller scale, for sure, but it was interesting to see another country’s interpretation of this tradition.

The afternoon had finally arrived, and with that my plan to visit the Acropolis. I’d decided to visit in the later part of the day because I wanted to avoid crowds (which are insane!) but figured there was no way I would manage – with Phoenix – to be out of the house by the required 8am to skip the long lines and miss the crowds. Plus, in the morning, I would have had to skip all the ruins on the hills and beeline straight for the Parthenon to beat the crowds. This way, I could take my time going up and be near the Parthenon as the heat abated and the golden hour of light set in.

I was glad to have gotten a better historical and archaeological preparation before my visit of the Acropolis, and to have timed my visit as I did. The build-up to visit the Acropolis was just right, and it did not disappoint. Every step I took on this ancient rock felt meaningful. The view overlooking modern Athens, with its white facades shimmering in the sun and a distant glimpse of the Aegean Sea , was breathtaking. The Parthenon itself was under renovation – with cranes inside and no tourist access, but I preferred the temple with the Caryatid statues, anyway.

Best of all, though, were the two theaters – the Theater of Dionysus and the Odeon of Herodes Atticus – on the hillsides of the Acropolis. I had studied ancient plays that had actually been performed on the stage of Dionysus’ theater thousands of years before (the one I remember most, actually, was called The Bacchae, and actually featured Dionysus – the God of wine and debauchery – himself!) And now, here I was walking along these rocks, sitting on the same seats. As cliche as it sounds, the experience was practically spiritual.

Yes, the Acropolis did not disappoint. Nor did Athens, actually. Despite its intense summer heat, traffic, and mass tourism, I found exactly what I was looking for there – a chance to walk in the footsteps of all those philosophers I studied and loved all those years ago.

And anyway, you can’t go wrong in a city whose roads all lead to the Acropolis, right?

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Anyone who knows my husband, Bruno, knows that to hear these words coming out of his mouth is sort of jaw-dropping. To say he’s more of a small-town kind of guy is a massive understatement.

So when he returned to our campground in Cholula from his first dentist appointment in Mexico’s fourth-largest city, Puebla caught my attention. We’d had vague plans to visit on a day trip by taking the new Puebla-Cholula scenic train, but it was more because of its proximity to our campground than any idea that it was a must-see city.

It seemed that Bruno needed a root canal and several more appointments at this Puebla dentist. So we tossed around the idea of all going into the city on one of those appointment days, getting a hotel room, and spending a few days visiting the city. When I found the perfect Air BnB, brand new and right in the center of town, we knew it was meant to be.

This was our Air BnB… can you spot us?

The view from outside our Air BnB balcony.

Inside our Air BnB!

Love that artwork!

Bruno’s dentist was in THIS beauty of a building.

I could tell, right from the start, that Puebla was hopping. The traffic just to get to our apartment was insane, and the shops and sidewalks were bursting with people. When we took a mini-exploratory walk around the neighborhood, we ended up on a pedestrian-only street that was brimming with people, buskers, music, and hawkers selling everything from balloons and plastic knick-knacks to bags, handicrafts, textiles, and food.

When I say food, I don’t just mean tacos. Cut-up fruit is sold, sprinkled with multi-colored sugar; chips and popcorn with various salsas squirted on top; crispy deep-fried pig skin; soft and hard ice cream and popsicles; churros y chocolate; nuts and seeds; sweet pastries like gorditas de nata; and all the variations of meat and tortilla you could think of, all washed down with an agua fresca of the day.

It was a lot to take in, especially since Mexicans seem to love blaring music and firecrackers. Worried about my baby’s ears and my hubby’s head, we headed home for a quiet evening in our luxurious digs, but not before trying some kind of vegetarian antojito, or snack.

Cinco de Mayo pedestrian street is full of buskers, people, and trinkets for sale.

Cinco de Mayo pedestrian street.

Tacos and old doors.

Yummy street snack!

The following morning we headed straight for the zocalo, a Mexican architectural feature in essentially every town that equates to a centrally-located town square. There’s usually some greenery and a bandstand, and there’s always a water fountain. This is fortunate for Phoenix, who gets so mesmerized with the flowing water that he could easily spend thirty minutes standing at the edge and watching.

A zocalo is a great place to people-watch, and even without a child, I have a feeling Bruno and I would have spent a fair amount of time at Puebla’s. It’s surrounded on all four sides by majestic, almost-European buildings, most of them showcasing intricate tiling on their facades. On one end of the square is la cathedral de Puebla, a gigantic 16^th century Baroque building that towers over the rest of the city.

Close-up of the type of tiles along the facades of many buildings in Puebla.

View of la Cathedral de Puebla from the zocalo.

But with a toddler, the zocalo comes to life on a whole new level. First of all, it’s so satisfying to watch Phoenix scurry around all the open space, taking in all the action (because there’s always action at a zocalo). He is so curious and excited, taking everything in with a careful eye, and mesmerized by so much more than simply fountains. Mexicans seem to be very family-oriented, and there are young families and children everywhere, so one of the things that Phoenix watches most is the other children.

It’s an added bonus that having a toddler gives us a chance to interact with the locals. Phoenix gets a lot of attention wherever he goes in Mexico, so, apart from adults cooing over him, parents with kids of all ages urge their children to come over and greet Phoenix, and, often, caress his skin. I can’t tell you how many kids Phoenix has held hands with or blown kisses to. It’s a lot, and it’s almost always in a zocalo.

Phoenix loving the zocalo fountain.

OMG, heart melt.

From the zocalo, we made our way into the cathedral, which isn’t the first Mexican cathedral I’ve seen with a strange interior design. The pulpit (or altar), where the priest gives mass, is in the exact center of the church, so that we could walk the circumference of the church, behind the pulpit. Along the walls are various mini chapels with all sorts of religious images and art. In this cathedral there was also a raised section for the choir, surrounded by four gigantic organs. I can image how powerful the music must be in this space.

Next, we really wanted to visit the Biblioteca Palafoxiana, the first public library in all of the Americas. It has over 45,000 books and manuscripts, some over 500 years old. The texts are organized according to topic, all of which (as far as I could tell) are religious or philosophical. The classification system is all hand-written, and the spines of these oversized books remind me of a spell book straight out of Harry Potter. It was pretty cool, especially since Phoenix is now obsessed with books and got really very excited about the whole place.

Inside the cathedral.

Wow, that organ is massive!

La Biblioteca Palafoxiana, the oldest library in the Americas!

A pleasant surprise was that, in the courtyard below the library was a concert. A classical mariachi orchestra began to play, accompanied by an operatic-style mariachi singer. Suddenly, traditional dancers marched out on stage, all wearing colorful traditional outfits and showcasing Mexican culture through the ages. As a music-loving family, this was possibly the highlight of our time in Mexico.

The impromptu (to us) concert outside the library.

Dancers came out!

A Spanish walz.

The following morning was Bruno’s dentist appointment, so Phoenix and I went in the opposite direction of the zocalo and stumbled upon a market hall with row upon row of restaurants serving the region’s specialties (often mole poblano, a, sweet-savory sauce usually containing a nut, a fruit, chili pepper and spices like cinnamon and cumin). After a little walk through a park, Bruno joined us, mouth half-frozen, for an afternoon of aimless wandering.

This wandering felt so familiar, as Bruno and I had always conducted our tourism in this aimless sort of way. It was comforting to be wandering again, but it also felt new, because now we have Phoenix. But not just baby Phoenix – walking toddler Phoenix! Walking toddler Phoenix is a lot more fun to wander with because he, by nature, is a wanderer. He takes a few steps, stops, looks around, takes it all in, and takes a few more steps in whatever direction and toward whatever thing calls to him.

So Phoenix fit right into our style of wandering travel, which this afternoon took us behind the zocalo to what I can only call the bohemian section of town. Here, shops were more boutique than tourist kitsch, buildings were painted in attractive brights and pastels, and on John Lennon Lane, young bohemians sold jewellery or jammed on drums, guitars, and flutes. Phoenix jammed right along with them.

A square we stumbled upon during our wanderings.

Cute colors in the bohemian part of town.

Love these colors, though!

Puebla is one of the most important Spanish colonial cities in Mexico, as well as the site for the infamous battle of Cinco de Mayo, but we didn’t get to any of that stuff. We spent our time taking in the squares, interacting with local kids, aimlessly wandering the streets and soaking in the rather stunning architecture. We made sure Phoenix caught both his naps, which actually gave us a much-welcomed chance to relax for a couple hours during the hot afternoons before heading out again. And we were home each evening for a quiet dinner as a couple and an evening of surfing YouTube on the giant TV.

It might seem strange to choose YouTube over Cinco de Mayo historic sites, but we do things differently now that we are parents. We arrive somewhere new with little expectations and no check-list. We visit places that are “kid-friendly” and integrate tourism into our life, rather than the other way around. Instead of must-see sites, we get our greatest amount of joy from watching Phoenix discover the world around him. And at the end of a day, our exhausted, new(ish)-parent selves are quite happy to eat dinner in our pyjamas!

Bruno was right – Puebla is a really nice city, and we had a fun weekend away. It might sound strange to say, but as I mentioned in my last blog post, I’m once again happy that Bruno needed a root canal!

It was a pretty ambitious trip, if I do say so myself.

The boys catch some zzzzs on the airplane to Florida.

The idea of our Florida trip was birthed last summer, during a visit with my aunt Louise to the majestic Mohonk Mountain House in New York State. “Florida is on the way to France,” Bruno told had her. “We’ll just give ourselves a layover in Miami and pop in for a visit to your winter home.”

That fall, while failing to coordinate a meetup on the Gulf Coast with my oldest childhood friend, Nanette – who has a boy six months older than Phoenix – I mentioned we’d try to be in Florida on our way to France and swing by for a visit instead.

Then, I thought of my high school best friend, Lizzy, who now leaves near Tampa. I hadn’t seen in eight years nor met her two kids. So, I committed to another visit.

Under a canopy of live oaks in Vero Beach, Florida.

Phoenix playing in the sand at the beach for the first time!

Gotta love Florida beaches.

Then, I remembered that my aunt and uncle winter in Florida, and found out that my cousin would be there in April with her hubby. And then, I found out that another childhood friend would be in Florida the same week as us, with her father and newborn baby, in their family winter home. So, I committed to another couple visits. They were along our route, after all.

Before I knew it, we had one helluva road trip planned.

Despite the fact that we live in a bus and travel overland full-time, we hadn’t ever done a traditional road trip with a baby (or even as a couple, I might add). Our traveling lives very rarely involve set itineraries, and they never involve lugging around suitcases and moving into and out of sleeping quarters every few days. This was definitely a new experience!

The first thing we noticed is that, unlike our pre-baby days, we no longer travel light. We had to visualize prior to packing, how we would actually carry all our luggage – I could manage a backpack, my purse, Bruno’s laptop, the stroller, and the toddler, and Bruno would have a backpack, Phoenix’ travel crib (which is also a backpack), and two rolling suitcases (poor guy). I was very relieved to find out we could carry a small piece of luggage for Phoenix without extra charge, as I have no clue how I would have packed that travel crib into a suitcase with all the rest of the stuff we were lugging for him.

Unpacking for the night at an Air BnB in Miami, only to pack up again the next morning!

Poor Bruno!

What, exactly? Well, besides the bed (which was a godsend, allowing him to transition from one new place to the next without feeling unfamiliarity at bedtime), we brought 24 reusable diapers, his foldable high chair, and his potty. Yes, we packed all those large items into a suitcase, and still managed to bring toys, books, and clothes! Oh, and of course, a gigantic backpack full of food for our flights (this is me we are talking about, after all! We could just barely carry all our luggage, which was essential, because later in our trip we’d have to transfer from the Barcelona airport to the train station via the metro.

We’d booked an Air BnB in Miami because we were arriving at 5:30pm and had to pick up a rental car. Had we been alone, we could have driven all the way to Vero Beach that evening (though my aunt Louise might not have appreciated the late arrival!). But we knew we’d have a tired baby on our hands (he slept once for about an hour in my arms during the flight from Mexico City to Miami). We’d actually also booked an Air BnB near the Mexico City airport the night before our midday flight, as it was a 50km ride from our campground to the airport which, in Mexico City traffic, can take as much as three hours! One thing I can say is that convenient travel with a toddler sure is pricey!

So, how was Phoenix during our road trip? Well, our car was very comfortable and easy to drive, so we made good time (relative to our bus, anyway!). And, we timed our drives for his nap times (something we do in our bus, too) so that we could drive for longer periods without him getting bored or fussy. So, the drives themselves were pretty easy. The only issue, truly, was finding good places to stop for diaper changes, snacks, and meals. In the bus, we have everything we need, so I had forgotten the perpetual search for picnic tables and bathrooms that is a regular road trip!

Breakfast on the ground in the Air BnB we rented near Tampa – we ate where we could!

Phoenix having a blast on our road trip.

Phoenix having a blast with new friends.

Could this guy get any happier, really?!?

We figured the drives would be a cinch, but we had assumed Phoenix would have a tough time adjusting to all the new people and spaces. After all, when we moved into our rental home in Cuernavaca, Mexico, he wouldn’t let us put him down on the ground at all the first day, and he cried himself to sleep for the first few days.

It was probably great that we took Phoenix out of his comfort zone a couple months before our Florida trip, because he was an absolute gem. He took each new person in stride and explored each new home with gusto. Not only that, but he fell asleep each and every time in each new bedroom without so much as a peep. I attribute a lot of that to having his familiar travel crib with him (he’d slept in it for 7 weeks in Cuernavaca), but we were nonetheless totally amazed. It turns out that Phoenix is an incredibly well-adjusted, flexible toddler!

It was a lot of fun seeing our baby boy interact with dear family and friends. In our regular lifestyle, Phoenix simply doesn’t have that much chance to socialize. The first babies he’d ever “played” with were 14-month old twins that we met in a campground, a mere ten days before our trip, and he’d been terrified of them for the first half-hour (until we brought out the toys, that is!).

In Florida, he played with a few different toddlers (and four different dogs, no joke), and it was heart-warming to see. In Tampa, he spent an afternoon at the park with Lizzy’s almost-two year old, which also happened to be his first time playing at the park! He took to it like fish to water, climbing up steps and slides and walking (with me) high above the ground.

Phoenix befriending Bokeh the dog.

After this trip, Phoenix’ favorite animal sound is WOOF!

First time playing on a playground and he took to it like a fish to water!

Phoenix making friends with Annabelle, my friend’s almost-two year old.

And in Naples, he got to spend five nights with Nanette’s 20-month old, Teddy. I think they are best friends in the making, seriously. Phoenix watched Teddy like a hawk, mostly because he could walk and do a bunch of other things Phoenix can’t yet do. (To be fair, Teddy watched Phoenix pooping in a potty like a hawk, so I guess they’re even!). They played in water buckets together, went swimming, stole each other’s toys. Teddy fed Phoenix snacks, and Phoenix finally started taking an active interest in walking practice.

What was even more great was putting the boys in the bath together. Nanette and I have baby photos of us taking baths together, so I cannot express how special it was to do the same with our own babies.

Phoenix and Teddy, the makings of a best-friendship!

Water play – Phoenix’ new favorite activity!

Teddy pulled up those chairs so we could all comfortably watch Phoenix potty. How thoughtful!

My fave moment every – bath time with our boys (something their mamas used to do together as babes!)

This trip was special for me in so many ways. I got to return to Vero Beach, a place which holds so many childhood memories for me. I got to connect with family and reconnect with long-lost friends. This is something I miss in my overland life – connecting with special people – so our road trip to Florida filled my heart with a lot of love.

So, I guess the challenges of traveling with a toddler were worth it for me (I can’t speak for Bruno, who still looks exhausted, haha!). We might not plan such an ambitious trip again anytime in the near future, but the one that we just completed will go down in the books as a total success!

A lovely visit to Vero Beach with my aunt Louise.

8 years in the making – girls’ night with my high school bestie, Lizzy!

A visit with good family friends and a new addition to their family!

And a meetup with my cousin and her new pup!

Childhood Besties Bandits (actually, we were making homemade sunscreen!)

Yes, 2019 is shaping up to be quite the year of travel – and not overland travel, as is usually the case. We will be on more airplanes – and in more strange beds – than since I began overlanding with Bruno, back in 2012!

Our family has big plans for 2019!

Here are the trips we have in the works for 2019:

April – May: We will spend a month in France, visiting with Bruno’s family. It will have been almost a year since Bruno’s parents will have seen Phoenix! It seems our trip falls during Easter, so most of the family will be together on the Mediterranean Coast for a nice little reunion. A twist to this yearly voyage is that, on our way to France, we have decided to layover in Miami and make a little holiday of it. We will rent a car for 10 days and visit my aunt, two childhood friends, and a travel friend of Bruno’s in various areas of south Florida. Maybe we’ll even squeeze in a visit to the Everglades?

July – August: I missed last summer on my favorite beach ever, so this summer we are definitely returning to my family home in New Brunswick for a couple weeks! We are thinking of doing a layover in Toronto to visit my brother and his partner as well as some wonderful family friends who have yet to meet Phoenix. Talks are in the works to rent a lake house near Toronto for a couple days of fun in the sun with everyone!

August – September: (This might be the continuation of the previous trip depending on what is more economical, flight-wise.) My best friend is getting married in early September in Greece, so we are trying to combine this trip with some more European family time. We are in the process of organizing a big family reunion in Greece for a week, and my own family might come, too! We will also return to France after the wedding for a couple weeks so Phoenix can have another visit with the grandparents.

We hope to spend a lot more time with family in 2019!

In between these international trips, we plan to be in Mexico and Guatemala (later in the year). We may rent a home near Mexico City for a month or two (more on the reason for doing so in an upcoming blog), and we will welcome my dear friend, Sahnah, to Mexico for a week in February (we’re still waiting to hear back from a few other friends who have expressed interest in visiting us). Otherwise, we will be slowly traveling south. We hope to spend our next holiday season either in the Yucatan or Guatemala.

Our 2019 in a nutshell:

January: slow travel in central Mexico

February: house rental in Cuernavaca (?); an 8-day visit from my good friend, Sahnah

March: house rental or slow-travel in central Mexico; hopefully meet back up with my parents before they leave Mexico

April: 10 days in south Florida; trip to France

May: 15 days in France, then back to Mexico

June: slow-travel in Mexico, heading south

July: trip to Toronto and New Brunswick, Canada

August: family reunion in Greece

September: my best friend’s wedding in Greece; two weeks in France

October – December: slow-travel in the Yucatan Peninsula and Guatemala

We hope to experience lots more culture in 2019!

If all goes according to plan, then, 2019 will have visiting SIX countries, and two of them (Greece and Guatemala) will be new for baby Phoenix and his mama! Although Bruno isn’t chuffed about leaving our Big Blue Bus for so many months this year (and our wallet isn’t too happy about all these trips!), I’m looking forward to a year of connecting with people we love all around the world! We are so fortunate to have wonderful people willing to host us in various countries, and lucky to have the passports and funds to do the international travel we want to do this year.

We hope that you are feeling as blessed this year as we are, and that you also have a few exciting travel plans in the works! We’d love to hear about your travel plans – or any other exciting blessings happening this year – in the comment section below. Happy New Year!!!

That can’t be the Mohonk Mountain House, I thought. What I’d pictured, in the weeks leading up to our two-night stay here, was a small, very quaint lodge with a traditional, almost colonial feel. This place looked more like it had come straight out of a Tim Burton movie.

“They say that Stephen King used this hotel as his inspiration for The Shining,” my Aunt Louise announced as she met me at the main entrance of the hotel. At least my Tim Burton vibe wasn’t that far off, I thought. Still, it didn’t explain why everything – even the entrance of the hotel – was odd. I’d learn the reason for that later.

The Mohonk Mountain House.

The hallways of the Mohonk Mountain House.

Months earlier, when Bruno and I had conceived the plan of traveling from Atlantic Canada down the east coast of the United States, we’d gotten in touch with Louise, who has lived so long in NYC she’s practically native. We’d visited her there in 2016, but this time – with a bus and a baby – we suggested meeting up with her somewhere outside of the US’ largest metropolis.

She suggested the Mohonk Mountain House, a historic hotel about 90 minutes north of the city, at the foothills of New York State’s Catskill Mountains. She’d always wanted to go, and here was her excuse.

As we were led through the endless carpeted halls (me replaying Jack Nicholson scenes in my mind) to our two-bedroom suite, we learned the reason this hotel has earned its fame these past 149 years. From the balcony of our room we looked out upon a turquoise private lake tucked like a secret between densely forested hills.

The view of the private lake from our balcony.

The hidden lake and boat dock we could view from our balcony. Our room was on the left edge of this shot (in the green section).

Louise and Phoenix, posing on our balcony.

If I’d been nervous about bringing our not-quite five month old baby boy, Phoenix, on this mini holiday, I was now, instead, determined. Determined to make the most of this amazing place, to have an unforgettable reunion with my aunt, and to drag Phoenix around as much as needed in order to accomplish this.

We immediately set out. From the balcony we could see a little boat dock and a few wooden huts along the water’s edge, so we headed in that direction. After admiring – and perplexing yet again over – the architecture of the hotel from this vantage point, we discovered a little hiking path that followed the circumference of the lake. I suppose it was accidental, then, that Phoenix did his first ever hike. With 85 miles of maintained trails on the property and adjacent preserve, it sure wouldn’t be his last.

Louise and I, with Phoenix asleep for his first ever hike.

Enjoying the hikes and observation huts at the Mohonk Mountain House!

At the end of the hike we passed the lodge’s little private beach where a sweet-looking young lifeguard was on duty. Earlier that day, Louise had been disappointed to learn that the babysitter she’d scheduled for our two evenings had come down with a cold. Louise had tried unsuccessfully to find a last-minute replacement, and so we were facing the choice of which of the three of us would watch Phoenix while the other two had dinner in the dining room. I didn’t like the sound of that, so I went straight up to the lifeguard and asked if she knew any babysitters available. She was, she told us, if that was alright with us. YES, I said immediately. Yes, yes it was. (Don’t worry, parents, she had her first-aid and EMT training!). And that was how Phoenix got his first babysitter.

It was surprisingly easy leaving Phoenix for the first time, and even more surprising how quickly I reverted back to my pre-parent days, sipping wine and talking about adult things and eating at my first restaurant in five months. Sure, I thought about him, hoped he was still asleep (as I’d left him), and even missed him a bit, but I think I needed that evening away more than I’d realized. (It probably helped that my first time “away” we were technically in the same building and only a 5 minute walk from our room).

The dinner itself, however, was disappointing. I’d been ogling over the menus on the hotel’s website, but, because of renovations, dinner was buffet-style stations. That meant waiting in lineups for each food item we wanted and having semi-cooked, lukewarm food that we mostly ended up eating alone at the table because the others were still waiting in line for theirs. At least the sunset was something to write home about.

Getting dressed up and heading to dinner. This is not our room, but one of the many lounges scattered throughout this gigantic maze of a hotel.

The dining room, with a view over the Catskill Mountains.

That evening’s glorious sunset.

I knew Louise was not impressed, either. The next morning, after our breakfast (which was, by the way, Phoenix’ first restaurant – see photo!), Bruno and I went for a little stroll on another trail between the lodge and the lake. We stumbled upon an outdoor picnic-style restaurant, called the Granary, that served BBQ food at red-checkered picnic tables overlooking the lake. I spoke with one of the employees and learned that, yes, we could eat our meals there, and also that that evening, their three-course fine dining restaurant was open for limited reservations.

Phoenix’ first restaurant…

… and the boy steals my spoon!

Our morning stroll along the lake, visiting some of the observation huts.

Strike a pose, Bruno! (And check out the odd architecture behind!)

I immediately went to the front desk, on a mission to remedy our dining situation. Unfortunately, they could only seat us at 8:45pm. I begged and pleaded, returned later that day, and left our phone number in case anything changed, but it didn’t looking good.

In the meantime, we decided to go on the history walk offered that morning. Both Louise and I were curious to know more about the Mohonk Mountain House. With Phoenix asleep in the sling on my chest, we learned about how the Smiley family had stumbled upon this property, purchased it for $28,000 and turned it into a hotel to pay off the bank loan; how they instilled their Quaker influence into the ethos of the hotel (even today, you have to go searching for a drink as their bars are not in evidence); how the building was designed by several architects, and built, piece-meal over the years (that explained more than just the uneven floors!); and how the hotel’s reception area was originally in New Paltz, a couple hours’ carriage ride away (that was why the main entrance of the hotel didn’t feel main-entrancy!).

With Phoenix now awake and in his stroller, we ate burgers and brats, watermelon and beans, salads and macaroni at a picnic table overlooking the lake. The forecast hadn’t been looking good for our stay – and the season thus far had been incredibly rainy – so we marvelled at how lucky we were to be sitting outside on a sunny day picnicking with such a view!

Lunch with a view.

Dessert was pretty delicious, if I do say so myself!

While Louise went off to digest her meal, Bruno and I took Phoenix to the hotel’s beautiful indoor swimming pool. Phoenix absolutely loves swimming (luckily, during our travels, we have found several lakes and pools in which to swim) so we had a great time bobbing with him in the water.

Phoenix is excited to swim!

Not a bad-looking swimming pool, eh?

Then, we all decided to go on our biggest and best hike yet – up to the Skytop Tower. We’d spotted this structure at the top of the hill overlooking the lake, and had learned during our history tour that that was where the Smileys first spotted the little inn below and immediately fallen in love with the property. I put Phoenix in the baby carrier on my chest (he was due for another nap) and we make the steep climb up. Along the way, we stopped at several of the 150 observation huts and were rewarded with progressively more stunning views. At the top, we completely understood why the Smileys had to have this piece of land – the view of the hidden lake, green hills, and Catskill Mountains was as beautiful as a mountain getaway could be. Eagles glided overhead, we spotted a deer grazing on our way down, and all of us felt very happy to be sharing this time together.

On our way to Skytop Tower!

The view from above!!!

We spotted a deer!

It was during our happy-hour drink that our third strike of luck struck (the first two being the babysitter and the weather). We received a phone call that we could dine in the fine dining restaurant that evening at 7pm! We went back to the room, dressed ourselves up, put Phoenix to bed for the night, welcomed the babysitter back, and enjoyed a lovely, relaxing, luxurious three-course meal.

We got lucky, and got a spot at the fine dining restaurant.  Phew!

Elegant and tasteful. Just what we were hoping for!

The next morning – our last – as we enjoyed a final view, stroll, and meal together, I was filled with such gratitude to Louise. Not only had she invited us to experience the wonders of the Mohonk Mountain House with her, but she had given us an even greater gift – a taste of our old life, mixed in with the joy of our new life. For it was during this mini-holiday that we dared – for the first time – leave Phoenix with a babysitter, take him to restaurants, and do activities like hikes and history walks with him in tow. I’d spent five months living in a self-imposed cave with my baby boy, enjoying him, of course, but also grieving the loss of my old life.

Louise helped me see that, even with a baby, a stress-free, memorable holiday can be had.

Thank you so much, Louise, for the wonderful time, and the wonderful life lesson!

Thank you SO much, Louise!

You’re the best!

A final view of Mohonk Mountain House, an absolutely memorable place!

It’s not just because I’m traveling again – after a two-month travel hiatus – that I’m so happy, nor is it simply because I’m in a new and exciting city.

I’m so happy because two of my best friends in the world are about to join me in Europe for a ten-day reunion!

Erin (middle) and Alex (right), two of my very best friends.

The three musketeer, exploring Europe together!

I met Alex and Erin almost a decade ago in Bangkok, Thailand.  We had all arrived mid-school-year to teach English at a private bilingual school in the city.  Though our time together in Thailand was brief, we took full advantage of school holidays to explore the region, creating lifelong memories along the way (one of my best ever was camping on a deserted island in the Philippines with Erin; I’ve also had a few epic trips with Alex since then, most notably to Egypt and Zimbabwe).

Alex now lives in Singapore and Erin in Washington, DC, so the only time the three of us have been together since Thailand was in 2012 for Erin’s wedding.  Here in Barcelona, all that was about to change.

Three Nights in Barcelona

Barcelona is the perfect backdrop to a girls’ trip.  The city is large, exciting and energizing.  The weather is mild and sunny.  Cafes and tapas bars line the streets – the perfect places to have long lunches.  Which is exactly what we did.  Over glasses of wine and mini tapas plates, we reconnected and filled one another in on each of our lives.  We looked like total locals with our late, lingering meals.

The Gothic Cathedral of Barcelona

Wacky Gaudi architecture.

Palm trees and balmy weather

Erin hadn’t been to Europe in about 14 years, so we did make sure to do a bit of sightseeing.  Most of it involved Antoni Gaudi.  We visited the Sagrada Familia, a cathedral that is perhaps the landmark of Barcelona.  Its construction began over 100 years ago, but, because of its magnitude (and other factors), the cathedral is still not finished.  It is hoped that the structure will be complete by 2026, exactly 100 years after Gaudi’s untimely death.

Our Air BnB was only a 7-minute walk from the Sagrada Familia, so we were lucky to catch a glimpse of its imposing exterior several times and in different light.  Though the interior was celestial, for me, the cathedral is all about its exterior facades and skyscraping arches.  I’m happy we got to soak up the grandiosity of the Sagrada Familia over the course of our three-night stay in Barcelona.

The infamous Sagarada Familia

We did an audio tour inside the Sagarada.

And saw cool things like this very celestial ceiling!

Because our accommodations were just down the road, we got to see the Sagarada Familia in all different types of lighting!

We also visited Gaudi’s Parc Guëll.  The park is massive, but we concentrated our guided visit on the inner Monumental Zone, where you can find a few preserved homes, Gaudi’s infamous mosaic salamander, and the old viaducts.  We were so lucky that it was warm and clear, and so we stayed long enough to sun ourselves, and to catch an epic view of the entire city, with the Mediterranean Sea in the background.

Admiring the panoramic of Barcelona from atop Parc Guëll.

The famous mosaic salamander at Parc Guëll.

The lovely viaducts.

Some of the funky Gaudi buildings inside the Monumental Zone.

With the rest of our time in Barcelona, we wandered fairly aimlessly around the city (talking, of course, all the while).  We went to Barceloneta, the area of town where locals congregate along the city beach.  It was pretty happening on this Saturday afternoon, with hawkers set up along the wharf and bands performing on the street.  We had an al fresco drink, Alex got a mini-massage, and we dipped our toes in the Mediterranean as we watched an incredible lightning show in the sky over the sea.

We also wandered around the alleys off Las Ramblas, in the Gothic area.  We stumbled upon the Catedral de Barcelona, a small farmer’s market selling cheese and wine and honey, and we feasted on the best churros y chocolate in town.

We ate really well throughout our trip, actually (thanks to Erin, who had done her research).  Our first evening we dined at La Yaya Amelia, where we had a tasty (and affordable) three-course meal.  Funnily, the restaurant was almost entirely empty at 8pm, but started to get packed as we left around 10pm.  Our final afternoon, we stumbled upon Arume Restaurante, a super popular and funky place famous for its paella.  Amazing food and ambiance.  I highly recommend both!

Churros y chocolate, with some more chocolate on the side (cuz why not?)

Tapas!!!

Arume, a delish restaurant.

Paella, and an amazing artichoke dish, at Arume.

A Night in Carcassonne

From Barcelona, we took the train to Carcassonne, France.  I had long wanted to visit this city, as it has a massive medieval Unesco World Heritage fortress on its hill.  On the day we arrived, we were shocked by the wind and plummeting temperatures, but we braved it and visited the fortress, anyway.

Actually, I didn’t plan the trip very well.  In the off-season, the castle and ramparts close by 5pm, and we were too late arriving to enjoy the recommended two-hour visit.  We were happy to know we could still walk around the outskirts of the ramparts, which allowed us to get sweeping views of the city.  The buildings sported the same red Roman tiles as the roofs in the south of France, but because of the dampness here, the red has gone a greenish grey.  I like that you can tell which region of France you’re in based on the color of the roofs!

View of Carcassonne from the fortress ramparts.

Lots of cafes inside the fortress, but not the weather for sitting outside!!!

Carcassonne’s picturesque fortress walls.

Happy to find out we could walk the perimeter of the ramparts!

Carcassonne’s Cité is full of kitsch tourist shops, which doesn’t make for the most authentic experience.  I think tourism has ruined what could have been a very charming village.  But what makes Carcassonne absolutely worth the visit is a view of the fortress walls at night.  The place looks like a Disney fairy tale castle and it’s hard to believe that, not only is this place real, but it’s 1000 years old.

Fairy tale castle, right?

Erin is the selfie queen.

Carcassonne at night – the highlight of our time there.

When in Carcassonne, one must try the regional dish of cassoulet, a white bean and meat stew.  Because it was Monday, the restaurant our Air BnB hosts had recommended was closed, but the girls still managed to try the dish at the only restaurant open in the “nouvelle cite” (for one should never try cassoulet in the fortress).  Then, because it was cold and our apartment was just so darn cute, we bought wine, cheese, charcuterie, and chocolate mousse, and headed home for a proper French girls’ night.  I’m so glad Air BnB exists, as we were able to find lovely private apartments at each destination, which maximized the time we could spend simply being together.

Cassoulet, Carcassone’s infamous dish.

And our nightcap at our lovely Air BnB.

Two Nights in Bordeaux

This city was high on Erin’s destination list, because she’s totally in love with Bordeaux wine.  Our first afternoon there, we simply wandered around the old town, which is mostly pedestrian streets and funky shops and brasseries.  Because it was still so cold, we had a hot beverage under the heat lamp overlooking a cathedral and a square.  It felt very French.

That evening, we visited L’école du Vin, where we could sample glasses or flights of wine from the Bordeaux area.  The staff was knowledgeable, the environment sophisticated, the glasses affordable, and the pours generous.  I loved it, and Erin was in absolute heaven.

Bordeaux’ Old Town.

We sat outside sipping on hot beverages with a view of this lovely cathedral.

Bordeaux’ classy pedestrian streets, lined with boutiques.

The next day, we decided to make her dream of visiting a real Bordeaux château come true.  We hopped on a local train to St. Emilion, one of the most famous wine-making regions of Bordeaux.  We had no plan and no idea what to expect, but the village was so charming that I didn’t even care if we didn’t visit a single château.  We ate crêpes by another cathedral overlooking another square, caught glimpses of the green-grey-tinged Roman tiled roofs, and wandered past endless rows of perfect grape vines.

St. Emilion, one of Bordeaux’ wine regions.

So.Darn.Charming!

Vineyards as far as the eye can see.

So.Darn.Charming!

We did eventually head to the tourist office, and they were very helpful in organizing a wine-tasting visit for us.  First we visited one of two domaines in the village proper that allow you to wander through their underground wine cellars for free.  It was a quick visit followed by an equally quick two-wine tasting.

Next, we visited Château Haut Sarpe, a smallish family vineyard.  The tour was in French (because we booked last-minute in the off-season) so I did quite a lot of translating, which allowed me to truly understand the entire process of wine-making from grape to bottle.  I found it absolutely fascinating, and would recommend a visit for any wine-lover or curious individual.  It made the tasting at the end all the more delicious and meaningful.  One day, I’d love to return to Haut Sarpe in September to help with the grape harvest for a few weeks – what a cool cultural experience that would be!

The Chateau we visited, Haut Sarpe.

Haut Sarpe not only makes great wine, but it’s a historic chateau with lots of pretty old buildings, including this wind mill.

Pretty stoked to have visited St. Emilion with my besties!

Four Nights in Agde

After getting to visit three new European destinations (yay!), I brought the girls home to Bruno’s neck of the woods.  I wanted Erin to meet Bruno and see our little home and village (Alex already had back in 2015), and it was also a way for us to save a bit of cash while winding down the tourism part of our trip and focusing on soaking each other up as much as possible (because who knows when the three of us will be together again?).

I took the girls to La Table d’Emilie, my favourite French restaurant in Marseillan, for a gourmet five-course meal.  They loved it all up.  I took them to Pézénas, the medieval fortified city full of talented artisans selling their wares (the shops are much more interesting here than in Carcassonne).  And I took them to the local spa, followed by an outdoor lunch of moules frites along the edge of the Herault River.

But mostly we cooked.  We talked.  We walked the beach.  We talked.  We sang.  We talked.  We laughed.  We talked.

Enjoying dessert after 4 previous courses at La Table d’Emilie.

La Table d’Emilie, in Marseillan. Fabulous restaurant.

Walking the beach (despite the wind) outside our home in Agde.

And we promised each other we would meet again soon.  This trip had been rejuvenating and illuminating for our souls, and we knew we needed to make one another a greater priority in our lives.

That’s the thing about long distance friendships.  Time makes you slowly forget, adapt.  You lose the urgency of being with that person.  But the moment you’re next to one another, you remember.  You pick up where you left off, you soak it all up, you fill your heart with that person, and you hold on to them that much more tightly because you don’t know when you’ll be able to do it again.

I’m sitting at my departure gate at the Barcelona International Airport.  Our girls’ trip has come full circle, as I’ve returned to the city where just ten days before I happily awaited Alex and Erin while contemplating the quirky architecture of Barcelona’s renowned Antoni Gaudi.  I’m tired – exhausted, actually – but I am happy.  So, so happy.  Over the past ten days I have discovered three new regions of Europe, which is always exciting for a traveler.  Better yet, I discovered these regions with friends.  There’s no better way to discover a place.

Saying goodbye (for now) at the Barcelona airport.

Most of the photos for this post are courtesy of my lovely talented friend, Erin Socia.  Thanks for letting me share, and for being our official trip photographer!!!

Being with Bruno’s family this past week brought me back to another recent family trip that I haven’t yet had a chance to blog about: our three-RV road trip to Nova Scotia, Canada!

An epic three-RV roadtrip!

After hitting it off in France and Morocco, Bruno’s brother, sister-in-law, and niece decided to make the trip to Canada this past July to visit my parents.  Once we caught word of their plans, we decided to get in on it (how could we not?!?).  In fact, joining our families was the reason we embarked on our cross-Canadian road trip!

By the time we arrived, Bruno’s family had already seen Niagara Falls, a bit of New Brunswick, and Prince Edward Island.  We’d made it in time for their 9-day RV adventure through Nova Scotia.  Back in Morocco, Bruno and I had done an RV road trip with my parents, but this was our first time traveling as three vehicles.  Without a doubt, it was an unforgettable (if logistically challenging) experience!

Our itinerary for our 9-night RV road trip through Nova Scotia, Canada.

An unforgettable time with family!

Our primary destination was Nova Scotia’s famed Cape Breton Island, so for that reason we spent our first night just before the bridge to Cape Breton, in Havre Boucher.  There was something special about that first stop which had nothing to do with the campground itself, but more to do with the coming together of our three vehicles and the kick-off of this much-anticipated trip.  Everything was new to us all – the way we’d set our vehicles up in a campground to maximize common space, the excitement of sitting out on camping chairs and enjoying the afternoon, the rhythm of our rituals.

Bruno and I had arrived several hours before our families, so we prepared a huge welcome dinner.  Cooking for seven was quite the endeavour – and one that we never could have managed in Totoyaya – but in Big Blue we had ample space (indeed, later in our trip, we would be up to four people in Big Blue’s kitchen chopping and sautéing and baking away!).

Sitting around enjoying our camping chairs at our first campground, just after setting up camp.

Our first camping dinner, prepared by yours truly.

Four bodies cooking comfortably in Big Blue – what a feat!

Welcome to Cape Breton!

The following morning we made for Cape Breton and the little town of Baddeck.  Some of mom’s ancestors were from here, so she has memories of spending summers at the local beach.  Boy, had the town changed since she’d last been!  It’s now a hopping tourist town with ice cream and knick-knack shops, boat rides off the pier, and nightly ceilidhs.

A ceilidh is a traditional Scottish social gathering, a kitchen party of sorts, with Scottish music and dancing (and, traditionally, drinking!).  I love fiddle music and was dying to take part in one, so jumped at the first opportunity.  I’m so glad we did – the ceilidh ended up being one of my favourite parts of our entire road trip!  The two musicians, red-headed sisters from the other side of the island, were fantastic, and they duelled and talked and danced their way through a captivating fiddle and piano performance.  My dad and I even got up and learned a little Scottish square dance!  Cape Breton is most famous for its Gaelic roots, and here in Baddeck we first witnessed its cultural richness.

The following morning, on our way out of Baddeck, my parents opted to stop at the local cemetery to find my great-grandmother’s grave.  The afternoon before, mom had gone to the town’s historical society to enquire as to where she might have been buried and learned much more – the lady remembered Frieda and talked about how wonderful a music teacher she (and her son) had been.  She even gave mom an old black and white photo of Frieda, all dressed up in her Sunday best.  A very special encounter, and a sign that Baddeck was still the tight-knit community it had once been.

Ice-cream refuel in Baddeck.

The two wonderfully-talented sisters performing traditional Scottish jigs at a ceilidh.

Dad and I learned some Scottish square dancing.  You can tell he’s having fun!

Visiting my great-grandmother’s grave in Baddeck.

Most people come to Cape Breton to drive the Cabot Trail, a 300km scenic loop along the northern tip of the island.  We didn’t want to miss it, either – nor did we want to miss Cape Breton Highlands National Park, which encompasses a good section of the Cabot Trail.  And so we stopped, on Day 3, at the Broad Cove Campground on the eastern side of the park.  And it was just the type of campground Bruno and I like – spread out and surrounded by nature.

We decided to do exactly what people do when they camp in parks.  First we followed a nearby hiking trail to a spectacular viewpoint of the park (the views of boreal forest, rugged and mountainous coastline, and deep blue water are quintessential Cabot Trail views and we would spend the following day stopping and admiring as many of them as possible).  Then, we came back to the campground fora barbecue and bonfire.

Hiking up to a viewpoint in Cape Breton Highlands National Park.

Admiring the views along the Cabot Trail.

A quintessential camping experience: a barbecue/bonfire!

We held up the rear of the convoy along the Cabot Trail.

And we stopped A LOT to take in all the wonderful views!

Eating proved to be something we would do much of and probably my favourite ritual of our road trip (this is probably not surprising to those who know me).  In the evening, we always cooked up a feast that we would share on picnic tables between our RVs.  During the day, we would find scenic spots to pull over and picnic.  This is not an easy feat when you’re three large vehicles, but, thanks to Bruno’s experienced eye, we almost always managed a very lovely spot.  One of my favourite was on Day 4, near the NE side of the national park, at a picnic table right along a lovely pebble beach.

One of my favourite lunch picnic spots.

Another really lucky lunch picnic find.

Post-lunch digestion stroll.

There were a few small disappointments on Day 4, however.  Bruno’s family had opted to try whale watching that morning in Ingonish; they joined us at our lunchtime picnic having seen nothing more than seals.  I knew that whale watching in Cape Breton wasn’t nearly as sure of a bet as in Quebec’s St. Lawrence River (where Bruno and I had successfully whale-watched a few weeks earlier), but I still felt badly for our guests.

The other disappointment was the Cabot Trail’s infrastructure.  There was so much construction throughout the national park section of the trail that it was not fun to drive.  Much charm was lost because of the dust, noise and trucks, and the notoriously-dangerous road became treacherous.  It took us so long to drive through the park that we didn’t have time to hike the infamous Skyline Trail, and we only reached our campground in Cheticamp near nightfall.  At least the boys did have time for a dip in the ocean before another wonderful campground picnic!

Bruno’s family on a whale-watching trip.

Bruno wasn’t brave enough to join our other boys in the water. Too bad for him!

Day 5 was slightly disappointing as well, but in a funny and ironic sort of way.  On this day we drove from Cheticamp to the other side of the island, to Mira River Provincial Park near Louisbourg.  After another fantastic lunchtime picnic spot, we arrived at the provincial park late afternoon.  It was, yet again, the type of campground Bruno and I totally get down with, and I could have seen us spend a couple days there enjoying the nearby river and the nature peace of the place.  Instead, we chose to quickly park our vehicles and drive 40 minutes on into Louisbourg, after having heard that there was both the Tall Ships Festival and the kick-off of their annual crab fest.

Sometimes there are those moments in travel when your timing is just off.  We arrived into town just as the Tall Ships had finished their open-house visits for the day, and the Crab Fest wasn’t due to start for a couple hours.  Louisbourg, itself, was so dead that it was almost like a ghost town!  We couldn’t even find a restaurant to sit down in for a drink or a bite to eat.  Suddenly, Crab Fest didn’t look too enticing, and we opted to head back to the campground.  It was 9pm and dark as blazes by the time we’d cooked up our campground dinner that night.

The Tall Ships festival in Louisbourg. I actually think we caught those same tall ships a few weeks early along the St. Lawrence in Quebec!

I wouldn’t have minded spending the afternoon at this campground!

The following day reversed our mini slump, though.  We visited the Fortress of Louisbourg, and it was just as interesting as the Acadian Historical Village Bruno and I had fallen in love with a few weeks earlier.  The seven of us were there the entire day, and hadn’t even visited the entire fortress by the time the place closed.  We’d witnessed the firing of muskets and canons in the re-enactment of military pageantry, heard fife music, watched the children’s dance, listened to First Nations stories, seen a public punishment, dined on traditional 18^th century food at the restaurant, and learned oh-so-much about life in the fortress from the costumed staff stationed in each building.  Oh, how I love these living museums!

Learning a lot from the interpreters at the Fortress of Louisbourg.

The children’s dance was one of many re-enactments at the fortress that day.

The Fortress of Louisbourg was well-worth a full day’s visit.

Several months earlier, mom had reserved spots for our three RVs in campgrounds around Nova Scotia.  She opted to do this because Nova Scotia in summer is very, very popular!  Even then, campgrounds (especially in parks) were full for our August dates, and mom wasn’t able to plan our itinerary exactly as she’d have liked.  For Bruno and me, it was simply a very strange experience to have an itinerary, to have to arrive at a particular destination on a particular date, and to be staying in jam-packed campgrounds every night.  But we understood mom’s decision, as every campground we stayed in was fully-booked and never could have accepted our convoy without prior reservation.

We learned that the hard way after visiting the Fortress of Louisbourg.  This was the only night mom hadn’t reserved a campground.  There was no space anywhere within an hour of Louisbourg so she’d opted to give us a bit of flexibility.  In reality, this meant a two-hour drive after a day of sightseeing to get back to Havre Boucher, on the other side of the Cape Breton bridge, because it was the only campground that had space.  This was not Bruno’s idea of a good time, but when you travel with others (and when you’re not in charge of your plans), you have to compromise.  We arrived at the campground well after dark and all fell into bed that night, but at least we were closer to our destination for the following day – the Peggy’s Cove/Lunenberg area, well past Halifax.

This allowed us several hours of sightseeing in Halifax, a must-see spot when visiting Nova Scotia.  It just so happened that the infamous Busker Festival was on!  I have memories of going to this festival as a child, so it was really cool to return with Bruno and his family.  The buskers were talented and entertaining – and, to top it off, their performances took place right along the wharf downtown, so we were able to simultaneously see the best and most beautiful of Halifax!  That was definitely another highlight of our road trip.

The Buskers’ Festival in Halifax.

Enjoying the afternoon along Halifax’ wharf.

Earlier in the day, we’d had our first bout of rain, and it had been so heavy I wasn’t sure we’d be able to take advantage of Halifax at all.  As such, I booked us in for lunch at one of my favourite restaurants – Envie, a tiny vegan restaurant in Halifax.  Since we were showing our Canadian culture to Bruno’s family, I figured a vegan restaurant fit the bill – French people definitely don’t have vegan food!  Everyone was mightily impressed that you can eat so deliciously without animal products!

Thankfully the weather cleared up, and, after checking out the buskers, we had a lovely, very quaint drive to Indian Harbour.  We got lucky at our campground and were given three side-by-side spots (the only time this happened) with a stupendous view of the ocean and the sunset.  Nova Scotia is almost entirely surrounded by water, so it was nice to be able to spend some time contemplating its beauty.

Yummy vegan food! And cultural, too (because, let’s face it, French people don’t have vegan restaurants)

We got three side-by-side spots!

And with a view of the water!

The next morning, we all wandered over to nearby Peggy’s Cove, a picturesque fishing village that was so adorable I wanted to eat it up.  The weather was gorgeously warm and sunny and we were headed for a two-night stay at Graves Island Provincial Park (hallelujah, two nights in a campground!), so after another charming coastal drive, we parked our vehicles and headed straight for an afternoon at the beach.

Peggy’s Cove, so adorable.

We are pretty adorable too, right?

And an afternoon at the beach! (I ALMOST made it into the water, too!)

I’m glad we got to take advantage of the campground itself, as that was one thing we hadn’t really had time to do.  A nine-day road trip to Nova Scotia isn’t nearly enough, and we’d packed our itinerary so fully that what was missing was downtime at the campground to enjoy camping.  At least that night we got to have another barbecue and bonfire.

I’m also glad we got to take advantage of the weather, because the following day (our last) it poured like nobody’s business.  We tried to visit Lunenberg, another picturesque (and historically important) port town, but it was so rainy that we were mostly only able to take cover in shops and a restaurant.  That night, still rainy at the campground, we packed ourselves into my parents’ RV for dinner and cards.  Their RV is pretty big, but it can’t exactly accommodate seven!  Thank goodness the weather had cooperated with us until that point, because picnics outside are a whole lot more comfortable!

Hanging out in my parents’ RV.

It’s definitely more fun (and comfortable) to eat outdoors.

The following day, we dropped off the rental RV in Halifax and headed home to New Brunswick for a final few days together before Bruno’s family returned to France.  I am so happy they decided to visit us in Canada, and grateful Bruno and I were able to join them on their Nova Scotia RV trip.  Bruno and I love traveling solo – the pace is definitely more to our liking! – but it’s absolutely wonderful to share the road with friends and family.  It shakes things up and creates a store of lifelong memories.  Between our RV trip in Morocco with my parents, our niece Lucile’s visit to Kenya, meet-ups with overlanding friends in Turkey, Sudan, and Spain, and my friend Sahnah’s visit to Morocco, the store of overland adventures with loved ones is getting mighty big… but there’s always room for more!

Feel free to take that as a hint.

For me, however, France is big meals at long tables with family and friends.  Increasingly – especially with my frequent visits in the last year – France is almost home.

Our recent visit to France drove home this fact.  Bruno’s brother and his family traveled down from Geneva to spend time with us during their school holidays.  We invited Bruno’s niece and her young budding family to spend a week by the sea in the mobile home on our property.  Bruno’s other niece and her partner couldn’t miss all the fun, so they, too, came down for a long weekend.

Bruno’s niece and family stayed in the mobile home on our property. Here, they’re getting their big family organized for the day while Bruno and I take breakfast on the veranda.

Elodie and her lovely family.

The girls gawking over the new babies of the family.

And so, we found our home – and table – filled to the brim with family.  With the exception of my parents, we were the same cast of characters as our family reunion last New Year in Morocco.  So it was just as loud, jovial, and – as with most French families – food-focused.

For most meals, we piled chairs around our dining room table or lined-up tables on our veranda and rustled up four-course meals together – my sister-in-law brought the salad, my father-in-law brought the wine, I managed a main course, and the house stayed loaded with cheese, bread, and Swiss chocolate thanks in large part to our nieces.

Between meals, we soaked in the final fall days of sun on the beach, played pétanque in the village, went shopping at the mall, did some yoga, and played board games.  I got to spend time with my favourite little man, Léo (my niece-in-law’s oldest boy), reconnect with my amazing sister-in-law and nieces, and get to know the two newest members of the family, Ava and Eden, five-month-old twins.

Playing pétanque, France’s most-loved game (besides football, of course!).

I organized a yoga class at our house for our family with my yoga teacher, Satya.

Playing on the beach with my best bud, Léo.

Little Ava is grabbing my hand! Oh MAN those twins are adorable!

Our family indulged in a few special out-of-the-house meals, too.  We went out for a tapas night at the restaurant of Bruno’s cousin in the nearby village of Saint-Thibéry, where Bruno’s parents used to live.  We spent the evening eating, drinking, and laughing with Bruno’s parents, brother, nieces, cousins, aunt and uncle.  Talk about a long table!

We also returned to La Table d’Emilie, our favourite French restaurant in Marseillan.  This time, we were celebrating the double birthdays of Pierrot, my father-in-law, and Elodie, our niece and mother of three.  Pierrot spoiled us all with a 7-course chef’s table, where each dish was a surprise.  We were at the table for five hours!

I’ve grown to truly love the long, zipper-popping meals with my French family.  They are a place for us to connect, to talk, and to slowly savour food and family.  I’d so much rather be at the table for five hours than gazing at artwork in the Louvre or snapping photos of old medieval towns.

Tapas night and one mighty long table (half of it isn’t pictured!).

Celebrating a few birthdays at La Table d’Emilie, our favourite restaurant in France.

The cheese platter course of our seven-course meal. Yum!

Pierrot wanted us to take a photo of the four generations of the family. He’s generation one. Bruno’s brother Patrice (white and blue) is second generation, Elodie (on the right) is generation three, and the three little kids are generation four. WOW!

France isn’t only a place of family – we always manage a bit of time with Bruno’s friends, too.  This year, we were in for a special treat because I finally got to meet the infamous Stephane, Bruno’s old friend who has been sailing around the world for thirty non-stop years.  If you thought Bruno was a wanderer, think again!  Stephane was exactly as I’d pictured him in my head – a fun-loving, open, inquisitive, freedom-loving person.  I liked him immediately, as well as his girlfriend, Karina.

We spent a couple afternoons with them drinking coffee and wandering along the riverfront in town.  One day we all piled in a car and popped in on some of Bruno’s other friends, Michel and Béa, in their hilltop town of Nébian.  We went for a long walk in the hills, tasting berries and nuts from the trees, keeping ourselves warm in old shepherd huts, and wandering through the streets of the very old village.  At the end of all of this, we – of course – sat down at a long table to a long, boisterous meal.

Bruno and his friends. The infamous Stephane is on the left.

Getting warm in the shepherd shelter during our hill walk.

The village of Nébian, where some of Bruno’s friends live.

Going for a walk with Stephane and Karina evidently means chatting up some sailors doing repair work on their boat along the Herault River.

Just like that walk through Nébian, I feel like my tourism in France happens accidentally, while I’m busy living life in a place I increasingly feel is home.  It happens when my family members decide on a sunny afternoon to wander through the beautiful alleys of Pézénas to look at the work of local artisans.  It happens when I decide to get a bit of exercise, take off on a bicycle, and end up sitting at a riverside café in old Agde watching the fishing boats go by.

In Pézénas with family.

Sitting along the Herault River in Vieux Agde.

It’s not even tourism, really, that I’m doing.  For tourism is purposeful, planned, goal-oriented travel – the place itself is at the forefront of the experience.  For me, in France, places take a backdrop to the people.  France doesn’t unveil itself to me from behind the lens of its tourist towns.  It unveils itself to me at its long, food-filled tables.  Increasingly, through these rituals of food and connection, France has ceased to be a two-dimensional place with a long list of places to see – instead, it has become a comforting, comfortable, community-filled home.