How Many Kids Does it Take to Open a Spew Bag?

Picture this, it’s midnight Paris time and we’ve now been travelling 27 hours from door to stinking hot underground train station. We now needed to use google maps and my scribbled instructions to find our apartment. I’m already high fiving myself we chose to use backpacks. The little two are using small carry on suitcases that they can carry if required. 27 hours in and Mike, Kayden and I are juggling them between us. The underground station is busy and there are so many tunnels leading goodness knows where! It’s mostly in French. It’s hectic and we are so sweaty and I was personally really light headed from the travel/nausea.

A “football match” has finished in Paris and there are fans everywhere. Isla is quietly crying, she’s frightened. Max is asking if the area we in staying in is sketchy and Kayden gets a warning that if he asks why we are not staying in the Eiffel Tower neighbourhood one more time, he won’t live to see it.

Everyone is grouchy. The flights were horrible if you ask me. I felt nauseas the entire time and threw up in the last hour. Credit to Kayden and Isla who tried to assist me. But never ask a child to tear open a spew bag for you! I literally grabbed a sweet air hostess as she charged past and my eyes told her everything! I needed help and my husband was currently trying to stop a sleeping Max falling off his seat. The turbulence was revolting. She quickly replaced the bags and gave me wet towels.

The journey was long. Poor Isla was asked at Perth Airport to stand in security with her body copying a certain position to be scanned. She clearly couldn’t straighten her arm the way the machine needed. Isla looked frightened (this could be common this trip - eeekkk). A man with poor English pulled her aside and did substance/bomb checks on her as an alternative security check. He didn’t want me going too close. She’s a child for goodness sake! Anyway, her swabs came up inconclusive and the next minute I’m trying to keep up with him guiding bewildered Isla to a computer for another scan while I’m reassuring her it’s completely normal. All went well and our huddle of five continued on to the next part of airport processes.

We had to walk about 600 metres from the metro to the apartment. The area we were in was alive! So many people out. Mostly young people lining up for clubs, restaurants or wine bars. It was unsettling for the kids and I could understand why. Anywhere in the dark can be unsettling, never mind after being awake for 27 hours. However Mike and I commented later that it was actually really civilised. No way we could/would do that in Perth city. So we found our apartment and followed the million instructions to get in. We literally all stripped down to our underwear. Why did no where have air con between Singapore airport and now the Paris/public transport!?

I could see my parents tracking us on a mobile app even thought it was now 5am Perth time. We’ve taken their three babies across the world. They’re worried. But we’re ok. We’re alive and waking up to a new day as I type this. I’ve planned out a busy few days here. I’m already realising that in order for this to be majority nice, I just need to just go with it sometimes.

Side note: As we came in to land last night at 10pm and the sun was still up, we could see the beautiful French countryside and patchwork fields. I overheard the following. Max talking to himself “beautiful, it’s just so beautiful. Isla to me “I can’t believe after all this time, we’re finally here!” And Kayden looking desperately for a sighting of the Eiffel Tower. This trip through their eyes will save us some days. And maybe want us to throw it all in on others. My beautiful cousin Renee and and I laughed as she messaged me this morning to check in on us and said I should title this blog post “Shoulda Bought a Caravan”. And ten minutes ago before I typed this out, I was thinking the same. That journey was hard and long and vomity! This blog could be my therapy? Because right now after getting that all off my chest, I’m excited to get my family up and out the door. After all, we’re in Paris and the breakfast croissants are waiting!