Don’t allow the ‘never again’ naysayers to put you off exciting travel with your kids

Five years ago, I sat in a Tbilisi guest house toilet, resplendent in the retro pale blues and pinks of a Wes Anderson film set, staring at the tiny window of a pregnancy test.

I was having what I thought would be my last big holiday before I became a mother. I stared at the test for a full 45 minutes before finally accepting there was only one line, not two, and took myself and my broken heart outside to explore the city.

In three days I will be back in the republic of Georgia, a country that has sea, mountains and cities with surprisingly excellent techno scenes, wedged between Turkey, Armenia, Azerbaijan. But, this time I’ll be with my husband and the tiny tornado that is my two-year-old toddler.

Many would baulk at such a trip with a toddler, and it will be a challenge. It’s a long journey, beginning with an early start from Glasgow to Poland, where we’ll spend a few days recovering before our 2am start for our flight to Georgia.

I’m sure that when we arrive in Tbilisi on the train from Kutaisi, we’ll be cranky, tired and smelling of post-marathon trainers, ready for a hot meal and a glass of Georgia’s famously good wine. I cannot wait for it, even the challenging parts.

I was told by the “never again” crew I’d have to give up a lot of things when I became a mother: writing, sex, nights out, my independence, button waistbands. Some things they were absolutely right about: I do not get on trampolines any more, my sleep and my dress size have both been forever altered, and I’m a convert to elasticated waistbands.

But the thing that people most often told me – a woman who’d spent her life travelling the world several times over, living in a boat on the Thames, a shack in Paraguay, an artist’s art deco apartment in Buenos Aires – was that adventure was now a thing of my past.

They told me – a woman who literally carried around her whole life’s possessions in a small suitcase for three years – I would not travel any more, at least not in the way I once did. “Better get used to Center Parcs and kids clubs.”

But I’ve spent my life defying what other people thought I should or would do. A part of me always says: “Watch me.”

I’m lucky my husband shares my wanderlust. I’m also lucky my wee son loves to travel, opening up like a flower when exposed to new situations, foods, people and languages. I want him to always be this curious and excited for the unknown.

I’ve been very sick for a full year now, and the expectation is that I should make my life smaller. But, instead, I intend to show my son how big the world is.

The trip will take five weeks but, by choosing an inexpensive country and doing the logistical legwork ourselves, it will cost about the same as a week-long, cheap, all-inclusive package holiday.

I admit, it’s taken an enormous amount of planning, research and some hard-won lessons from previous trips. I used to be a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants traveller, but with a child you do not have that luxury. We plan meticulously, finding supermarkets, child-friendly restaurants, 24-hour pharmacies, soft play areas for rainy days.

Travel changes with a kid and compromises are made. I have always favoured local travel methods but, with a toddler, we take more taxis. We have early mornings and early nights. I’ve swapped my beloved, weathered rucksack for a middle-aged, practical suitcase on wheels.

Most of all, everything we plan, every decision we make, we orientate around the happiness of our son, because we know that if he isn’t having a good time, we aren’t either. But, when he is at his happiest, we are too; that’s where the magic is, that’s where we’ll make our memories.

If you prefer a week with cocktails, sun loungers and kids clubs then, please know, I understand the appeal – and please have a pina colada for me. But, likewise, if those “never again” naysayers put you off travelling with a toddler or even older kids as you used to – whether it’s Borneo or Bournemouth – why not give it a go? Your children might surprise you. The world might surprise them, and you too.

All those years ago in Tbilisi, I walked through city streets that smelled of woodfired bread and roasting meat, and found myself at a restaurant with an accordion player. A couple in their later years danced joyfully around the restaurant with each other.

I promised myself that, when I had a baby, I would take them to Tbilisi and show them how big, diverse and interesting the world is. And here we go…

Admiring Tbilisi’s Narikala Fortress.