Trust.

a

• Trust in yourself.
• I used to hate it when people said this to me. I thought they were trying to impress me with their weirdo, voodoo, yoga ways; I always felt like a bit of a let down when try as I may, I would wake up every morning, only to find that it was still the same old me on the pillow.
• And then I set off to travel the world with my husband and two teenagers and I have had to learn to trust in them, to remember that I’m not always right – as much as it kills me to admit it sometimes. Trust that your kids will be fine and also:
• Trust in yourself.
• Trust in yourself is merely another way of saying ‘if it feels right deep in your stomach, then go for it’.
• Trusting in your gut instinct is something travel will teach you.
• If it feels right, it is. Go for it.

Travel encourages trust. Trust in others, trust in your parenting skills. Trust that you won’t always get ripped off!

Patience.

a

• I won’t lie, I’m still working on this one, but I have improved. Massively. Well ok then – quite a lot.
• Patience indeed comes about when you are travelling with two teenagers. You, like me, may find yourself stuffing clothes and half-empty bottles of contact lens solution into your backpack at 6.30 am so that you can catch the only train out of a particularly strange village in Vietnam.
• You will turn around to see your son, unwashed, teeth not cleaned, wearing the same socks as yesterday, laughing away, without a care in the world. Cracked up at the latest YouTube meme – instead of packing his stuff or helping his poor middle-aged mother find the black kindle lead.
• But, rather than screaming like a banshee about how you are going to wring his neck ( if you could reach), like you used to in your pre-travel days; threatening that you are going to get his phone and flush it down the squat toilet along with his annoying headphones, you say: “I think we should have a few rules in place around you and your phone on travel days. Now, hurry along please lovely boy.”
• Or something along those lines.

Learning to share.

• We have couch surfed in almost every country that we have visited, and every single time it ceases to amaze me that even those with very little are willing to share what they have with you.
• Even if it’s only a space on the floor of an open door train in Sri Lanka, they will share. And this generosity is contagious
• Before the start of this trip, I hid my ‘almost new underwear’ away in a wicker basket, on my neat little shelf, in my large wardrobe, within my private bedroom
• Now, I give my daughter full access to my ‘no longer elasticated, baggy, washed out knickers’ which I keep in the tiny mesh compartment of my shabby grey rucksack, beside the uncomfortable bed of our shared budget hotel room.
• I have learned how to share.
• It’s nice to share.
• I like to tell my daughter: what’s mine is yours.

• So here’s the thing, I have always been optimistic, but this quality has grown since I started travelling. It’s inevitable.
• Know that no matter how many bags you have or how loud your son moans and complains about how his legs are far too long and that his feet are dangling out of the door onto the road – you WILL all fit into that one tuk-tuk or that tiny Chevrolet Spark Uber. You will.
• Your increased optimism will make you oblivious to the look of horror that adorns the drivers face as he pulls up onto the side of the street, watching as you all proceed to pile into his pride and joy. Ignore his protests. Get into the vehicle, remain optimistic and smile; it works wonders.

Optimism will show itself in many forms when you travel. Fitting a heap of rucksacks into the tiny boot of a car is one of them.