It was my father's last full day in Nice and, up until that point, we had been hamstrung somewhat by the weather. It had rained for a the few days preceding it, which meant we had not really been able to enjoy some of the…Read More

It was my father's last full day in Nice and, up until that point, we had been hamstrung somewhat by the weather. It had rained for a the few days preceding it, which meant we had not really been able to enjoy some of the outdoor scenery on the Cote d'Azur. Instead, we had been limited to galleries and museums in which we could shelter from the incessant rain. However, on the morning before he left, there seemed to be a chink in the clouds. So, we decided to venture out.
Truth be told, we were not hugely optimistic about our chances. We both felt that the clouds would reassert themselves in the afternoon and we would find ourselves drenched. So, we went for the safe option in the morning by visiting the antiques market in Nice's Old Town and by going to the viewing point at Le Chateau. Even as we climbed to the point, we could tell two things about the day. First, the weather was definitely clearing up as the clouds were breaking and the sun pushing through. Second, the effect that the changeable weather was having on Nice was quite impressive. At the chateau, the sun burning down onto the wet ground caused lots of little rainbows to spring up and for a thin haze of steam to come up from the ground. We thought this was impressive, but it was nothing compared to what we would encounter later.
Having enjoyed the antiques and the Chateau, we decided to head to Villefranche and then St Jean Cap Ferrat. Villefranche was nice enough. We had a nice lunch and a wander around the citadel before departing for the Cap. As we drove the three or four kilometres to the Cap, the weather began to change. Since we had left it had been remarkably tranquil and even rather sunny. However, as we drove the lighthouse at the end of the Cap the wind began pick up and the scenery started to get spectacular.
We parked the car and walked down to the lighthouse. As we did so, the view was beautiful, but nothing too outrageous. There was quite a bit of wind, so the palm trees were bending to a sharp angle and the waves were crashing against the sharp rocks at the very tip of the Cap. As we stood admiring this, though, things began to change. As we looked west towards Nice, large dark clouds began to form on the horizon over the airport. However, beneath these there was some of the brightest and most delicate sunlight I had ever seen. The contrast of the darkened clouds and wonderful light seemed to be almost biblical in style. Yet as wonderful as it looked, it was just the beginning.
The clouds did not stay close to the airport. Instead, they began to work their way along the Promenade des Anglais towards us. It was literally possible to watch them rolling in the direction of Villefranche and St Jean. They also seemed to be taking a slight detour north so that their edge began to envelope the mountains to the north of Nice in a giant shroud. It all looked magnificent. However, as much as we would have liked to stand and admire the scenery, we could see the inclement weather coming our way, so we made our way back to the car post-haste.
Trips to St Jean Cap Ferrat are normally defined by a pleasant stroll along the path around the Cap and admiring the statuesque villas dotted around. Rarely do we view the area as a natural wonder. For this reason, I feel immensely grateful that I was able to see the natural wonders so briefly on show. Close

I am a huge fan of all things historical. Ever since completing my university degree in American history – with some minors in Southeast Asian history and Eastern European history - I have sought out places of historical interest whilst on my travels. Obviously, part…Read More

I am a huge fan of all things historical. Ever since completing my university degree in American history – with some minors in Southeast Asian history and Eastern European history - I have sought out places of historical interest whilst on my travels. Obviously, part of this has involved seeing some of the world’s most famous sights. The Forbidden City in Beijing and Hagia Sophia in Istanbul are two fantastic examples of that. However, I must also confess that I am a major fan of some of the smaller snippets of history. I love the little things that you can just stumble upon when you travel.
A great example of this was a deserted cemetery I found in Shenyang in northern China. It housed the bodies of a small group of Soviet soldiers who had been killed in the final days of WWII as the Russians advanced towards Japan. It was not in any of the guidebooks to the region and was a place I never knew existed, but I found it immensely interesting.
The cemetery in St Jean Cap Ferrat was not quite as anonymous as its Asiatic counterpart, but it contained just as much history (I realize this article may seem to have a slightly morbid tilt, but I feel the motif of unheralded history is worth more consideration). The cemetery is mentioned in most of the guidebooks geared towards the South of France with most of them lauding it for the beautiful it provides of the Alps and of the port in St Jean.
Personally, though, I found it interesting because of its contents. The vast majority of the cemetery is taken up with the final resting places of those who have lived in St Jean. As it is one of the most places in the world, some of the memorials and tombs are quite impressive. There are one or two that are as big as small houses – though not as big as any of the houses on the Cap. However, on a small ledge above the main part of the cemetery is a small military cemetery, which has some tremendously interesting origins.
The cemetery houses the remains of about thirty Belgian soldiers from WWI. As there was very little fighting in the South Of France, it seemed strange to me that you would find Belgian soldiers in such climes. As it transpired, the soldiers had been involved in fighting close to Ypres on the main front in Belgium in 1915. They were victims of a gas attack and had been sent to the South of France to recuperate in a hospital owned by the King of Belgium. Much of the contingent recovered and returned north, but a small group died and was buried in St Jean. I found it all tremendously interesting.
The cemetery in St Jean is worth the visit purely for the views of the local area. However, the little piece of history is worth five minutes of anyone’s time.
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It was pure coincidence that my girlfriend and I decided to experience one of the most spectacular roads in Europe. We had decided to take a trip into the mountains to go skiing. We were not particularly sure where to go. We had three major…Read More

It was pure coincidence that my girlfriend and I decided to experience one of the most spectacular roads in Europe. We had decided to take a trip into the mountains to go skiing. We were not particularly sure where to go. We had three major choices that were accessible from our base in Nice: Isola 2000, Auron and Valberg. Our initial idea had been to go to Isola, but when we found a cheap ski-rental store in Valberg, we decided to change our plans. We did not know it at the time, but it also gave us the opportunity to experience a little bit of the Routre des Grandes Alpes.
To give a little bit of background on the road, it was started way back in 1909 by the French Touring Club in order to create access to remote and largely inaccessible region. It was finally completed in 1937. It runs from the shores of Lake Geneva to the Mediterranean. Originally it was designed to reach Nice, but has since been extended so that it now runs to the small town of Menton close to the Italian border. Our journey to Valberg would take in about 29km of the 684km.
Our Journey from Nice took us out of the city along the Route de Grenoble. We travelled for about 45 minutes before reaching the turning for the Route des Alpes. Until that point we had been on dual-carriageway and generally flat roads. However, within 5km, things changed. The gradient of the road became significantly steeper and the carriageway significantly thinner. Even though we were driving on a clear morning, it was still difficult to drive upon. The rock was carved out of the side of the mountain and wound precariously around each hill and valley. This meant that at regular intervals we could not see more than two or three meters in front of us.
The higher we went, the steeper things got. I soon had to shift the car into second gear and was crouched forward in the driving seat to ensure I could see everything that might come into our path. If I am honest, the driving was probably as energy-sapping as the skiing we would enjoy later! This was all exacerbated by several French drivers wanting to overtake me at 90km an hour on a blind bend and showing general disdain for their safety and the safety of those around them. Thankfully, the flip-side to the difficult conditions was the unbelievable scenery.
Naturally, there are plenty of breathtaking mountains and valleys. At one point we could simultaneously see a valley plunging away below us that was filled by a thundering mountains stream that became a small waterfall that crashed through a series of boulders on the valley floor and a towering cliff-face that rose up 200 or 300m above the road. It was like this for almost the entire journey. There were times when the sun moved completely out of view as it was blocked by over-hanging rocks and others when we would burst out into the open and be drowned by bright sunlight. The drive culminated in spectacular style as we found ourselves winding up the side of an almost vertical cliff face on the way into Valberg. The only way to the top was through a fantastic series of hairpin bends.
The road to Valberg was fantastic, We had experienced only the briefest taste of the Rout des Grande Alpes, but it was wonderful and almost over-shadowed the skiing we would do upon our arrival.
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The small town of Menton situated just a few kilometres from the Italian border is always worth a visit. It is quiet, but it has a wonderful long promenade that looks out onto the Mediterranean. The town is also wedged into a tiny strip between…Read More

The small town of Menton situated just a few kilometres from the Italian border is always worth a visit. It is quiet, but it has a wonderful long promenade that looks out onto the Mediterranean. The town is also wedged into a tiny strip between the base of the Alps and the sea, which means there are some fantastic views to be had in either direction – north or south. On some days, when the cloud is low, the mountains that tower above the town look as though they have faint haloes.
The natural scenery and wonderful promenade are good reasons to visit Menton at any time of year. However, at the end of February you also have the Menton Citrus Festival. I realise this may sound like a bizarre attraction, but surprisingly it does a fantastic job in bringing tourists to the town. Every year, there is a small carnival with floats decorated in oranges and lemons and a park that is full of sculptures made from oranges and lemons.
My girlfriend and I visited the Citrus festival in 2012, and were suitably impressed. We took the train and perused a series of sculptures that represented the different regions of France, the highlights of which were an Alsatian Chateau and a Parisian Metro station. Therefore, when we set off in 2013, we were expecting some big things. Sadly, the second coming of the lemons was something of a let-down.
The first problem was that we travelled by car. In itself, this was actually great as we got there in a brisk twenty minutes without having to fight for seats on the train. However, the problems began to arise when we tried to park. This is always a challenge anywhere in the Cote d'Azur. The region loves its tourists but does not like building car parks to accommodate them. Parking in Nice, Cannes and Menton is a trying affair even at the best of times. Therefore when the festival is in town, it is a pure nightmare. It took almost an hour to locate a parking space and even that was so far from the festival that it would have been almost as easy to walk directly from Nice.
After a thirty minute walk from the car to the festival, I was ready to be wowed by the sculptures. However, I was disappointed. Whereas in the previous year the sculptures had been detailed and full of imagination, this year they were really rather bland. The theme was Ju8les Verne's 80 Days Around the World and featured cities and scenes from the journey. Sadly, these were not well executed. The Statue of Liberty from New York was embarrassingly bad and Big Ben from London did not really live up to the name. There was also a bizarre display representing India with a large plastic lemon riding an elephant – which did not look much like an elephant – made of lemons.
The Menton Citrus Festival takes place every year and is certainly an interesting event. In some years, though, it is better than others. I would always advise going by train as the parking is horrid.
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Last summer I read Christian Lander's fantastic book, 'Stuff White People Like'. It was an hilarious take on middle-class white society. Many of the small entries Lander included resonated with me to an unbelievable degree. The love of coffee, wearing a hoody with shorts and…Read More

Last summer I read Christian Lander's fantastic book, 'Stuff White People Like'. It was an hilarious take on middle-class white society. Many of the small entries Lander included resonated with me to an unbelievable degree. The love of coffee, wearing a hoody with shorts and over-use of scarves were all things that seemed to be just totally me. There were a few sections, though, that I felt were a little alien to me. These included the love of farmer's markets and organic food. Neither of these were particularly big areas for me. However, one Saturday morning in Nice, this changed.
I will begin by admitting that one of the reasons I never attended the market on Nice's Cours Saleya in the Old Town was that it finishes at around 13h00 and I am scarcely usually out of bed by that kind of time on a Saturday. However, when my girlfriend and I were woken early one Saturday morning by a telemarketer – who was much chastised – we decided to take advantage of the opportunity by visiting the market.
I am no stranger to French markets. When I was a child and my family took holidays to Normandy and Brittany in the north of France, my father would not be satisfied until he had perused various, hams and cheeses at a local market. If I am honest, at the time, I found this rather dull. I would have preferred to be at the beach or pool. However, as I am now a fully-fledged adult, I found my visit to the Nice version enchanting.
The first thing to note about the market on Cours Saleya is that the setting is pretty spectacular. We are not talking about a village square here. There are palm trees dotted around and the area is ringed by some of the most wonderful architecture you could ever hope to imagine. Beyond that, though, there is still plenty to enjoy. There is quite a bit of speciality local products such as soaps and lavender that come from the region. These are very interesting and make the market rather fragrant. However, they are not particularly unusual as there are plenty of stores in Nice selling exactly the same things.
The real attraction comes in the produce. There were five or six fruits and vegetables sellers who came with magnificent arrays of fresh products. My girlfriend who is an eager cook had to be forcibly removed from some of the stalls as she wanted to buy everything on offer. There was also a wonderful selection of hams and cheeses on offer. In the case of one of the cheese stalls, it was fantastic that there was a lavender stall next door to held neutralise the somewhat dramatic aroma coming from the cheeses. As a big cheese fan, this was heaven for me. There were also vendors from Corsica who were selling their own local products that included some equally aromatic goat's cheese.
The market in Nice was fantastic. For anyone who is up on a Saturday morning, it is the perfect way to pass a couple of hours and a fantastic way to get some great food.Close

It is a peculiarly British trait to be as obsessed with the weather as we are. It my sound like a cliché (It has grown to become one for good reason) to say that there are few thing we talk about more. It usually my…Read More

It is a peculiarly British trait to be as obsessed with the weather as we are. It my sound like a cliché (It has grown to become one for good reason) to say that there are few thing we talk about more. It usually my father's very first question whenever he calls me: "What's the weather like over there Paul?" This is invariably followed by, "It is terrible here!" Having lived in Mongolia, where temperatures drop to forty degrees below zero and in Oman where they can be reach 45 degrees in the shade, I have usually given the old man plenty to discuss. However, since moving to France, I have noticed that the French too like to discuss the weather and are keen to find comparisons with England.

On both sides of the English Channel (or La Manche), we are fond of the odd national stereotype. To the Brits, the French munch on frogs legs, quaff red wine at alarming rates, wear berets, smell of garlic and will most likely summarily surrender to any passing German - even if he is merely a tourist. The French see the British as badly dressed, roast beef lovers who could not prepare a decent meal or identify a good glass of wine if our lives depended on it. Of course, both images owe more to stereotyping, cliché and mild racism than they do to reality. However, we seem to bumble along with comic images of each other.

The list of stereotypes I unfurled in the previous paragraph is pretty exhaustive. However, there was one I omitted from the French view of the British: The weather. I had not been in France long before I realised that many French are convinced that the British Isles are continually under incessant downpours. They seem to believe it rains everyday. And, whilst there is a nucleus of truth to this image, it is a massive exaggeration. Yet, as soon as the sky turns grey and rain droplets threaten to form, the French begin to compare Nice to England. Without fail, every time that it rains, one of my colleagues will wander into my office and ask if the weather reminds me of home.

At first, I found thus mildly amusing. And, in an effort to blend in and ingratiate myself, I would laugh. However, after a while, it began to grate. It grated because it was a predictable thing to hear, but also because I felt there was something of a double standard. In the summer, Nice has one of the best climates in the world. The sun shines, the sky is blue and there is often a gentle breeze to stave off the truly stifling temperatures that would otherwise grip the town. In the winter and also in spring and autumn, the climate is not so wondrous and for the local Nicoise or make fun of the English for their weather would very much be a case of the kettle calling the pot black.

The main thing to say about the flip-side to Nice's weather is that no matter the season, when it rains, it rains. In England, we love the drizzle, where the air is damp and you get soaked to the skin, but you never really see the water bouncing or flowing. In Nice, it is the complete opposite. The rain seldom lasts long, but it usually pounds down for a few frantic minutes. In these situations, there is more often than not a fantastic accompaniment of thunder and lightning. It is a beautiful sight to the lightning bouncing off the Alps or crashing into the sea. And, on one such occasion, it struck parts of the city with such force that it knocked out our lights and shut down five computers in my office - when that happened I pointed out rather concisely to my colleagues that things are rarely like that in England. Close

I recently read Cheryl Strayed's fantastic book 'Wild, which sat atop the NY Times Best-seller list (For Non-fiction at least) and in which she details her journey from southern California to Oregon on the Pacific Coast Trail. She describes wonderful wilderness and the great feeling…Read More

I recently read Cheryl Strayed's fantastic book 'Wild, which sat atop the NY Times Best-seller list (For Non-fiction at least) and in which she details her journey from southern California to Oregon on the Pacific Coast Trail. She describes wonderful wilderness and the great feeling of adventure her trip engenders. At one stage she also talks about losing her bearings in the snow and feeling utterly lost. Coincidentally, when I was in the process of reading this book, I took a trip that made me feel exactly the same. At this point I will point out that the distances, terrains and environments involved were rather different. Strayed was in the American wilderness and on foot, whilst I was in French wine country in my car. But, I could empathise with the feelings she experienced.

Since the advent of ever more advanced pieces of modern technology, it seems like it is almost impossible to get lost. You have GPS. You have Google Maps. And, you have scores of websites that can offer you directions to your destination of choice. It is easy, right? In major cities and on highways, I would argue that it is. I recently went to play golf in a village close to the town of Valbonne and Google Maps got me door-to-door (or, more accurately, door-to-tee) without the slightest of blips. However, if you factor the French countryside into the equation suddenly modern technology begins to look rather inadequate. My recent trip into the Var showed me that. It was as though we were not only getting extremely lost, but were also fighting a battle against modernity.

You may have read an article I wrote last year about a journey I took to a cricket competition in the village of Entrecasteaux when my friends and I got magnificently lost and found ourselves taking a tour of wine country. This year, mindful of the previous year's chaos, I decided to be extra prepared. Not only did I download Google Maps, but I also printed the directions it gave me. As well as this, I had one of my friends bring his GPS enabled mobile-phone in case of problems. I was sure that nothing could go wrong. I was confident modern technology would do me proud. Sadly, I was wrong. Despite having two Iphones and a Blackberry in the car and a hard copy of the directions as back-up, we still got lost.

Our journey into the Var started on the A8 highway. This proved to be easy enough as the directions were easy to follow and the GPS and Google Maps worked well. The same was true when we turned off the highway and took one of the main roads. However, as we got further into the countryside, we encountered two problems that really stopped us in our tracks. The first was that our phones ceased to work as we moved out of range. This nullified my Google Maps app and voided my friend's GPS. This left us tapping and clicking our devices in the vain hope that they would yield direction.

Sadly, they did not help. So, we went to the instructions that we had printed out. For the first few kilometres this worked well as we passed along relatively large roads and through small towns. However, as the roads began to get thinner and towns began smaller and more sparse, we began to find things more difficult. This was because the signs that had heralded places and roads began to disappear and be replaced by small road-side stones that gave directions and distances. These stones were far more difficult to see and did not give road numbers. So, we were in trouble. The directions given on Google all used road numbers. Without these, we had no way to navigate.

So, how did we actually get there? We had to go old school. We had to ask for directions .Close

This entry is based on my experiences living, driving and travelling in Nice and is aimed at those who might consider making the ridiculous decision to rent a card and to drive around the city. This statement might sound very negative, but it is based…Read More

This entry is based on my experiences living, driving and travelling in Nice and is aimed at those who might consider making the ridiculous decision to rent a card and to drive around the city. This statement might sound very negative, but it is based on pragmatism. There is precious little point driving in Nice unless you absolutely have to. There are two main reasons for this. The first is that the roads in Nice are treacherous places. And, the second is that public transport is so cheap, clean and efficient that it is far more convenient than driving.

Let's start with the roads themselves in Nice. The biggest city on the Cote d'Azur has a road system that could, quite conceivably, have been designed by a three year-old playing with his or her crayons. It is a maze of poorly signposted one-way streets that are crammed with cars all trying to squeeze through. There are often no road markings and large pot-holes dotted at regular intervals. Parking is also an absolute nightmare. There is virtually no free parking in the city. There is street parking, but this is limited to two hours in the day-time. The police also regularly hand out tickets to those who over-stay. This means the only solution is to use large scale car parks, which can charge up to 30 Euros per day. Even hotels do not usually offer free parking.

The second aspect is the drivers themselves. Before Nice, I lived in Oman, a country with abundant space on the roads and extremely easy driving tests. The Omani drivers were awful. They ignored speed limits and weaved between lanes at will. I naturally assumed things in France would be better. Sadly, I could not have been more wrong. The French are just truly awful drivers. They pay scant attention to the lines painted on the roads. They drive and smoke. They drive and talk on their cellphones. When they find a parking space, they will stop and attempt to squeeze in no matter how much it disrupts other drivers. They also have no concept of slow lanes and fast lanes. This makes driving main roads truly awful.

Driving causes a massive headache, one which is completely needless. For starters, the majority of places to visit in Nice are within walking distance (The Old Town, MAMAC, Promenade des Anglais) and other attractions are accessible by bus. The buses and trams are not perfect, but they are extremely cheap (one Euro for any destination in the city, very frequent and cover almost all of Nice - there is no major sight that cannot be reached easily. In truth, getting across Nice on the tram is far quicker than going by car. The buses also have specialized lanes that allow them to move through traffic at a good pace, a luxury not afforded to normal motorists.

In short, driving in the Nice area can look fun. The idea of driving with the top down along the Promenade des Anglais is massively enticing, but the reality cannot match-up.Close

There is a passage in Sebastian Faulks's excellent novel 'A Week in December' where one of the lead characters describes the way in which the famed Rothschild dynasty made its fortune. Apparently, a key element of their success was their use of carrier pigeons to…Read More

There is a passage in Sebastian Faulks's excellent novel 'A Week in December' where one of the lead characters describes the way in which the famed Rothschild dynasty made its fortune. Apparently, a key element of their success was their use of carrier pigeons to ensure they received information from around Europe quickly so that they could be one step ahead of other financiers in their dealings. Quite how accurate this little anecdote was is open to interpretation. However, it certainly had my girlfriend and I wondering whether something so small could help create the splendour upon which we were gazing as we bobbed around in the water.

One of the main beaches in St Jean Cap Ferrat - the closest to the port and actual town - is overlooked by the magnificent Villa Rothschild, which makes it one of the most dramatic places in the world to catch some rays. The quaint little port of St Jean is at the southern end of the beach and the villa is to the north. The villa is set in a series of rather dramatically sculpted gardens and it is from a series lush palms that the beautiful building stares out to sea. The buildings are decorated in rather warm pastels that fit perfectly with the Mediterranean climate.

Not only is the villa rather impressive, but some of the passing traffic is also a little more chic than normal. By 'traffic' I do not mean cars, although there are plenty of Bentleys and Ferraris in St Jean, rather I mean the yachts that come in and out of the port. As St Jean is quite small, the really big craft stay out in the bay. However, there are scores of smaller ones flitting in and out. We spotted two fantastic 1950s motor launches as well as a wonderful wooden sailing boat. You could easily pass an hour or so boat spotting as they all parade past.

The beach itself is also very nice, although not the most comfortable in the Riviera. It is very spacious, which allowed us to find a nice spot with plenty of breathing space. Unfortunately, like most beaches on the Cote d'Azur, it is not made of sand. It consists of tiny gravel-like stones. These are soft enough to lay on without any problem - they are far more comfortable than the rocks in Nice or Cagnes Sur Mer - but are a little painful underfoot, so sandals are recommended. Rather problematically, these small stones give way to large rocks just as they enter the water (I guessed that the large rocks are natural and the gravel has been added for beach-goers). This makes getting into the water a little painful.

St Jean Cap Ferrat is a fantastic place to go to the beach. The view is wonderful and the beach itself very nice. It can be reached by car or by taking bus number 81 from Nice.
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Travel is educational and fun, as much or more for children as it is for adults. Traveling with children has its own challenges that differ from the demands of adult-only trips. The best approach will depend on the combination of the means and duration of…Read More

Travel is educational and fun, as much or more for children as it is for adults. Traveling with children has its own challenges that differ from the demands of adult-only trips. The best approach will depend on the combination of the means and duration of travel and the child's age and personality, but there are some basic tips that will make traveling with children easier, less stressful and more fun for all concerned.



(1) Keep them fed and watered.

This is crucial, and the younger the children are, the more important it is. You will avoid an immense amount of crankiness and all kinds of behavioral difficulties if you remember to keep the thirst and hunger at bay. There are no hard and fast rules as to what foods or drinks to supply and what to avoid. If your child is sensitive to some foodstuffs it's a good idea to avoid those, but otherwise the main objective is to make sure they are not hungry or thirsty. Too much sugary food is never very good, but it's better than no food or drink at all. Fruit is excellent if you can get it, as is a plentiful supply of water. Snack foods that take a long time to consume are also great as entertainment (grapes, raisins, potato chips, pretzels). However, if your child suffers from travel sickness, limit junk as it tends to induce nausea.

(2) Involve them in the process.

Children like to be useful, especially the smaller ones. If you involve them – seriously – in the business of traveling, rather than just transport them from place to place, they will be less bored and might even be genuinely helpful. From carrying some of the cabin luggage to entertaining smaller siblings, figuring out the entertainment system to watching out for the flight announcement or the highway exit, let them feel useful, and you might find they actually are. Keep them in the loop if something goes wrong, so they won't scare themselves silly with imaginary problems.

(3) The journey is the destination.

Many things that are mundane and frustrating for adults are supremely interesting for children. The minutiae of travel fascinate them. Airports, ferry terminals, motorway service areas and railway stations, not to mention hotels, are endlessly attractive, because they are different, as are fellow travelers. Travel emergencies, even as dramatic as a canceled flight or a need to sleep on an airport floor, which are, essentially, a pure nightmare for adults, can be a source of education, entertainment and stimulation for the kids.

(4) Forget embarrassment.

Don't worry too much about what other people think of you. This doesn't mean you should let the kids run riot along the length of the train carriage or make masses of noise when everybody else is trying to sleep, but, frankly, children have as much right to travel as business people or retired vacationers. If other passengers are willing to engage with your kids, let them chat and (if they have kids) play together.


(5) Stretch the legs.

Walk about when and if you have a chance. If you are driving, plan frequent stops, even if just for a five minutes stretch. If you are on a plane, do get up every hours or so and make them do it. Never stay on board when the plane is stopping for refueling or a scheduled stop. Train is the best means of long-distance travel for children as it affords easy opportunity to walk and change the scene a bit. Use it: even very little physical exercise helps.

(6) Consider entertainment.

Boredom can become a major issue when traveling long-distance with children. If flying long-haul, the on-board entertainment system will often be sufficient for all but the most jaded, but even then it's good to have something for a change. On a train, boat, bus or in a car, you will need to supply diversions. Children who can read and play video games should bring a couple of books and a hand-held games console. An MP3 player is very useful, and if you load audiobooks as well as music, it can be surprisingly effective for even small kids. For any long-distance journey (10 hours or more), taking a net-book computer is an option to seriously consider. This can be loaded with movies, cartoons, audio books and music. Bring earphones (one each and one spare) and if you have more than one child to entertain, a splitter device that allows you to plug in two sets at once is very useful. Playing cards are great for older kids (and adults). Paper (a plain notebook) and some pencils and crayons are great for drawing and games like city, county, country and the hangman. Entertainment in the car is often the biggest problem as many children get car-sick when reading, playing a console or watching action on screen. Audio is the best choice then (you might still be grateful for the earphones), as well as drive-time games, from 20 questions to a Slow Boat to China, and various versions of I spy for the younger ones.

(7) Establish ground rules.

Travel can be hazardous and tricky, especially when you factor in tiredness. Make sure they know the rules:must do what they are told, the little ones must hold your hand, the bigger ones must stay within sight. Plan what to do if you become separated and teach them how and who to ask for help. Make sure they know your mobile phone number and have it switched on when negotiating railways stains, subways and airports.

(8) Be prepared.

In addition to food, water and entertainment, have some basic first aid items handy: plasters (band-aids), disinfectant gel for hands, damp tissues or baby wipes, small toilet roll or a few packets of tissues. If you are traveling with a female teen, carry a sanitary napkin or a tampon just in case. Painkillers (paracetamol or ibuprofen, aspirin cannot be given to kids under 12), an antacid, travel sickness and diarrhea remedy might all come handy.

Additionally, take a change of light clothes *for everybody* even if you are checking the rest of your stuff in. This applies to ferries, planes, trains and coaches alike, and even in the car it's useful to have a bag of "for the road" stuff handy. Frankly the risk of the children spilling something (or even being sick) on you is as high as the risk of them spilling something on themselves.

If your kids are little, take their stuffed animal or a comfort blanket. Children who are not completely toilet trained are better in a pull-up (you can still take them to the toilet but just don't want to risk an accident on take-off or after falling asleep in the daytime).

For overnight journeys, a pillow (small normal one rather than those silly curved travel things) and a sleeping bag or a fleece blanket are great, not just for warmth but also for comfort. If you are not going to use them at destination, bring some cheap or old ones and simply discard on arrival: it will be almost always worth the extra cost.

(9) Don't make assumptions.

Things that seem hard might be easier than you think, and things that seem no problem might be hard. Children are different from adults in many ways and react to travel differently. Lack of sleep is much more likely to be a problem for you, and other adults, than for children, especially small ones. Discomfort in a plane seat is much of an issue for a 6 foot tall man or even an average sized woman with stiff joints, while children can just curl up and will feel like you would in business class. On the other hand, foreign food might be more of an issue for a five year old than for you.

(10) Stay chilled.

And finally, regardless of their age, children are excellent at picking up the emotional vibe that the parents give. If you dread a journey with the kids, and if you imagine it as a sequence of nightmares, it's likely to become a self-fulfilling prophecy. On the other hand, approach the trip in a spirit of adventure tempered by basic sensibility, the world will be your (and your children's) oyster.

*

The author is a mother of two and traveled extensively with her children, including a 30-hour series of flights through twelve time zones, a 28-hour train trip without a sleeper berth and a 20-hour drive across EuropeClose