Locked out: some tough lessons from our family summer holiday to France
Sometimes it feels a little like Jeff Kinney, the writer of ‘Diary
of a Wimpy Kid’ fame, might actually be observing my family life via my
smartphone camera.
On our recent road-trip to France we took the audiobook
version of ‘The Long Haul’. It's the one where, on a family car journey, Wimpy Kid’s brother Roderick manages to lock a frozen pizza in a
motel safe after he mistakes it for a microwave.
It didn’t take us long, then, when staying overnight in a youth hostel in Reims, for our kids to lock all their sweets, pocket money and even
some clothes in three separate lockers in our dormitory. Yes people, they had
combination locks. And they had no idea what the combinations were.
The under 10s may be entrusted to look after their own pocket
money and, when ignored long enough, are able to truly get to grips with an
unfamiliar locking system. But they have no concept of remembering a
four-figure number (remember, these kids do not come from an age where
remembering your home landline was a basic skill).
Both my older kids (aged seven and nine), were left crying, whinging
and devastated when they realised their possessions would be ‘lost forever’ in
the youth hostel lockers. They despaired, failing to believe that the staff might
have some sort of ‘magic key’* to liberate their chewing gum.
The seven-year-old, realising his jumper was also in a
locker, was so upset by its loss he could scarcely contain himself. It was a
jumper he had been trailing through mud at the park only hours ago, without a
shred of love for it.
I briefly blamed myself for failing to oversee this tinkering
with the lockers, but then decided it was perhaps a lesson that our kids needed
to learn. I’m not strictly sure what that lesson was, but they learnt it. ‘You
don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone’? Or perhaps more prosaically ‘Don’t
forget the combination lock to your locker.’
It got me thinking about what other lessons my husband and I had learnt from our exhausting summer holiday trip.
Here’s a few:
1. If you have packed
500 sandwiches and splashed out on several family packs of YoYo fruit sweets,
there will be no traffic delays. If you have forgotten to refill the 18 water
bottles stored within the fabric of the car for emergencies, there will be a six
hour traffic jam.
2. Parents should not
risk sitting down in the ‘childrens area’ on the ferry to Calais, not even for
a second. There is a high chance of being stuck limply gluing tissue paper at a
craft table, knees around your ears on a tiny stool, for a full 1 hour and 20
mins while their partner is ‘lost’ in some other area of the ship. Grim times.
3. French hotels have
definitely improved, even the ‘charming’ independent ones. Nice tea and coffee
making facilities, decoration from as late as 2002 and fully-functioning toilets
and showers. But they do still appear to be run by the same prim, short-haired
lady wearing glasses hanging from a little chain. All of them.
4. If there is a
children’s menu in the restaurant, featuring ‘Les Nuggets enrobés de miettes de
pain’, no child will rest from their sulking and whinging until it is served. Children’s
menus have pretty much ruined eating out with kids in France.
5. If there are animals,
everything will be ok. Our kids – including the most cynical who believes
himself to be pushing 25 - fed chickens for hours, embraced goats and stroked
reindeer. The happiest moments of the holidays involved throwing carrot
peelings at a mangy old cockerel encaged in an electric fence. Who knew?
6. If any of your three
children feel that what they have been allocated is inferior/less than their
siblings, they will steal from their parents until equality is achieved. This is
how I ended up sleeping on a thin Cub Scout bedding roll all week, rather than
the luxurious self-inflating sleep mats I had allocated to myself and my two
older boys. Three year-olds do not appreciate comfortable sleeping arrangements…they
are too busy bl**dy sleeping. Still, I hold (almost) no grudges, despite the
aching hips.
7. Nine-year-olds are
definitely better at dealing with motorway toll machines than their parents – even
if they have to perform some impressive gymnastic moves to reach the slots from
the car window.
8. GPS navigation can
only help you so much in a French one-way system.
* Just for the record, there was a magic key.
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