I saw a tweet this week saying something about what hard work it had been taking a trip abroad with a baby. Er, yes. Any kind of foreign travel is unpleasant. It involves queueing, lugging awkward heavy things, eating nasty food at odd hours, walking long distances down interminable windowless corridors, queueing again, and then a long uncertain taxi ride to a hotel that you hope has received your booking. If you choose to take children with you, multiply all of that by a large number and add in a bout of travel sickness and a quantity of whining. It’s never pleasant and it never gets easier.
Even after nine months, the big journeys were something to be endured not enjoyed. We became more efficient, possibly, and we learnt to always take snacks, but it never got any better. Airports at midnight are horrible, no matter how many times you do it.
But you do it, so you can get there. And in our case, the there was often magnificent.