A stranger’s post on Facebook, requesting suggestions for a trip to Italy, triggered memories of our recent family holiday in Europe. Honestly, I started writing about this tour a few weeks ago but was not happy with the result. There was too much negativity, too much trauma, too much angst still in me, from feeling disappointed, from returning exhausted beyond measure. So, I put it aside, thinking I will not post it. However, this morning, when I was helping this stranger out with some vital details, I realized, most of the distress was gone, leaving behind, some learnings for life.
From the outset, it was an ambitious or a foolhardy plan… I know not what to say…
The idea had its roots from a childhood dream to experience Christmas in Europe and the desire as a working adult to take my parents to visit the continent. Covid-19 delayed those plans significantly, which were further pushed due to my pregnancies and my sister’s as well. So finally, I decided that that last year, 2025, would be the year when we would all travel together. I did not give too much thought to how we will manage with 3 babies under 2, or whether what I wanted to do and see would even be feasible. As usual, when an idea took root in my head, I ran with it.
The first few weeks went in convincing everyone, including Rahul, to agree to this trip. Destinations were discussed and finally everyone agreed on visiting Italy and Paris. I chose the apartments on Airbnb, shared them with the family, and booked them. The rest of the preparations began, and I started making my numerous lists. It was only post Diwali (our trip was from end Nov to mid Dec 2025) that I realized how difficult it could be to take care of three babies abroad. Despite umpteen reels saying that, that is the right age to travel with kids, which had earlier given me some confidence, I started having some doubts.
Not about my ability to take care of our children on our own (although to be honest, much of the daily routine is taken care of by the helpers in our various households), but the fact that if I did that, where was the time to do the other things? There were also the extra preparations required… the numerous things to be taken, from the basic groceries to the cooking utensils, from the inner warmers to the outer winter wear, and the multiple sizes of diapers! Amid all this chaos, how could I let go of the things I wanted to take? (it included several different Jackets, carefully chosen and bought by Rahul during his trip to the USA, last month).
The few weeks leading up to the flight were fraught with self-doubts, spiced by shocked exclamations by pediatricians (that I would decide to travel with infants during winter), alarmed praises by hairstylists (that I would even travel so far with infants) and bemused encouragement by friends and family. Honestly, in my quest to fulfil a long-held dream, I didn’t focus on the things that could go wrong and until they did…
In the first couple of days, in Rome, unfortunately my little nephew, Adi, fell ill, followed by our daughter, Riki, then Rahul, and finally, of course, our son, Miki. While they ran the course of the viral infection, my sister and her husband, and my parents as well, had a close brush with bad colds, cough, and mild fever. Do I need to say more? Of course… Additionally we were trying to lug 13 suitcases of various sizes, 8 backpacks (including diaper bags) and 3 strollers through 3 cities across Italy and up to Paris. In a 15-day expedition, this was the foundation.
I won’t shy away from saying that this voyage was extremely far away from the vacation I had dreamt of or planned. Yes, I did factor in that the babies might catch a cold, perhaps a mild one, but I did not factor in that Rahul would be so ill, nor that I would lose the only other adult support that our kids were used to. My parents pitched in with night duties with Riki, cooking and in myriad other ways, my sister helped with the feeding and the minding, while my brother-in-law sorted the logistics, the heavy lifting, and was the one who kept the humour alive! My sister and brother-in-law were also kind enough to take care of our daughter on a few occasions, allowing us to go out. We saw as much as we did, only because of their generosity.
Despite all this help, on most days, I still felt overwhelmed by all the duties of a nanny, cleaner, housekeeper, trip organizer, and often the voice that pushed everyone out of the house on time for a tour. By nature, I am the go-getter, the one who leads, the one who wants to do everything right (depends on the type of holiday of course; for in a resort, I am the first one who wants to simply lie back and read a book by the seaside!), and it was my downfall. For, in a way, it was my dream, that had come crashing down. I was angry. I was frustrated. I was bitter. I blamed everyone. I blamed the circumstances. I blamed the place. But deep down, I blamed myself, for wasting this chance. It took me 10 years to convince Rahul to go to Europe, for it is never on top of his bucket list, and after this experience, I don’t know if we will ever have the courage to go for another one. Everyone said, when the kids are older, but life is so uncertain, that my mind doubts if there will be another chance. Rahul felt the same, because all the stress of his job, had weakened his body, making it difficult for him to recover. All in all, it was, what Rahul loves to call it, “An expensive disaster!”
However, on the brighter side, it was not all gloomy. Never! We had some wonderful, goosebumps moments, as we witnessed some of the greatest treasures of the world.
Our first visit was to the Vatican City. I don’t know how to describe our feelings when we entered the Sistine Chapel – the epicenter of Christendom… The pulsating heart of an ancient religion, so beautifully showcased and preserved over centuries… What made this occasion, even more special was Miki (without our prompting) folding his hands, bending his head, then raising his hand to receive the blessings, and one by one touching each of our heads to bestow that blessings. He had learnt this while praying at home, and he simply followed it here, because I told him this was a church where people prayed. The incident tinged by disbelief, mixed with pride and immense love, has been forever imprinted in my mind.
I remember walking through the Roman Forum, trailing behind the tour group, and just imagining this world, thousands of years ago… the narrow roads bustling with activity, the babies crying, the women singing, the Senators riding by, the citizens gaping and pointing, the intrigue, the fights, and the pretty modern lifestyle for that era…. It was all so fascinating. Especially the Colosseum – whose grandeur can still be tangibly felt, even to this day.
Another very distinct memory is of watching Miki, shout with amazement at the pristine white contrails left by the various planes traversing the bright blue Italian sky. Every now and then, I would hear a shout, “Mama! Papa! Look!” Miki would be pointing to the sky, jumping with joy. They were the highlights of his trip!
We could not leave Rome, its narrow, winding, cobbled streets, and well-preserved antiquities, without doing one modern activity with my mother – a Tiramisu and Pasta class… Just the two of us, for the first time, doing something we both love… cooking! A day to hold close!
Florence was like a delicate flower, blooming in the midst of culture, artistry, architecture and erstwhile political power. Although I could not see all that I wanted to, the Uffizi Gallery was stunning.
However, for me, the best part of our stay, was my short visit to the Christmas Market, fulfilling in part, the reason for our travel to Europe in winter. It was doubly special because Baba came with me. It was just the two of us, soaking in the atmosphere, shopping for little gifts, and tasting the delicacies. Another father-daughter moment to cherish for the ages…
The last leg of the trip in Italy, was Venice, and it was by far, the best. We loved the apartment we stayed in. It was stylishly decorated, comfortable, spacious, and the host was very kind, responsive and generous enough to leave us enough food for three breakfasts. At the outset, navigating the numerous bridges with three strollers was a nightmare, but we found a waterbus stop, S. Alvise, close by, that meant longer time on the water, but much easier to reach with the kids.
I insisted on a gondola ride, and it did not disappoint. Nor did Murano’s glass factory and the Doges Palace! It is always fascinating to glimpse a completely different way of life, where motorized vehicles (what we take for granted) are completely replaced by our own legs or boats.
Venice, with its crisscrossing canals, imposing buildings, old-world charisma, and unique mode of transportation was charming. It had a vibe like no other city, an enthralling lure that twists you around its tentacles, mesmerizing you forever.
We ended the trip with a few days’ stay in Paris. The beautiful city, despite its faults, has my heart. It has a certain atmosphere and energy that always captivates me, no matter how many times we visit.
Our first stop was, obviously, the Tour Eiffel. This iconic tower, seemingly unimpressive at close range, is nonetheless one of the most famous structures in the world. Its beauty lies in viewing it at a distance, for it evokes a sense of envy, of wanting to be there, to be captured in millions of photos, to be a tick on a bucket list. It was our second visit, and my parents’ first (even for the kids, but they will not remember). We just strolled around, leisurely, soaking in the feeling that I had at last brought my parents to Paris.
Suddenly we realized that we were getting late for our Bateaux Mouche tour at sunset on the Seine. We rushed to the meeting point, and actually were the last family to enter, the already overfull boat. The first time we had taken the Bateaux Mouche, it was evening time, and we had a seat on the top, in the open air. In the past decades, things have changed a lot. This time, the boat was much bigger, we were indoors, due to the cold weather, and the commentary was recorded, not live, not personal, like the last time. However, the sights, we floated by, were as spectacular as ever.
The next day, we were treated to a sumptuous and lip-smacking meal by family, prepared with much love and care, making us feel totally at home. The three kids, dressed in matching outfits, enjoyed their time, playing, crawling, exploring together, while the adults caught up on each other’s news. It was an afternoon to remember, relaxed, casual, informal.
Later, we visited the magnificent Notre Dame and peeked at its miniature village of Bethlehem, rekindling a decade old memory. This church was our first stop in Sept 2015, on our honeymoon! Rahul and I kept looking around, pointing fingers, recollecting specific details, noticing the changes post the fire, and simply indulging in sweet nostalgia.
Our final ode to Christmas and the most wonderful time of the year was in the shape of a little ride on the merry-go-round in a tiny Christmas market at the Hotel de Ville. Paris was wet and cold, and yet, what I still remember was strolling down its streets, couple of times, all alone, just indulging in a few moments of silence in one of my favourite parts of the world!
Travelling with infants will always be hard. They will not remember, but as parents, we will. However, we will also have a zillion memories to go with it, some of laughter, some of tears, some of frustration, some of fear, but most of love that surrounds us, embraces us, and heals us, when we embark on a journey with family. I cherished the evenings we spent watching the three kids, the beloved new generation, share their toys, demand attention and goad each other to play. Three generations in one room, warmly lit, tastefully furnished, large and comfy, immersed in our own world, while the cold settled deep into the dark and desultory honks disappeared into the night.
This monumental effort to assemble three families from three different cities to a single destination at a given time, for a number of days, taught us many lessons. We learnt the importance of better research of destinations (whether they are stroller friendly), the need for staying in a single location, rather than flitting from town to town, acquiring (certainly in my case) the essential ability to letting go of plans / of back-up plans, to embark on the most surprising adventures that might leave you heaving, out of breath, but full of life, laughter and joy!
I would never discourage anyone else from attempting such a journey, because who knows your experience might vastly differ from mine, but I would certainly caution them to open their minds, temper down ambitions, and tighten their seat belts, before boarding that flight.
It took some time to realise it, but eventually, I am grateful that we did go on this holiday, especially because I saw my parents enjoying it so much. From refusing to consider it, to tentatively agreeing, to being forced to travel, to appreciating every moment, they really had the time of their life. Our kids might never remember the special moments, but we will, and that in itself makes it somewhat worthwhile. As for my bucket list… There is still time. And another trip to plan!
Footprints on the Mind 
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