Mama means it

Four children, two dogs, one mom and a fourteen hour drive.  I should have known it wouldn’t be all kumbaya and slug bug.  Blinded by the thought of saving thousands of dollars in airfare (future shoe purchases need funding from somewhere) and the silly idea that a road trip would be “fun”, we hit the road.

Good reasons to drive instead of fly:

1.  You want your own car.  In our case we don’t fit in any car other than a Suburban.  Rental agents never seem to understand that a mini-van is NOT the same.  It may fit the same number of butts, but it does not hold the same amount of luggage.  We were forced to rent a second mini-van in France just to carry our luggage.

2.  You want to save $$$.  This trip would have cost $2,400 in airfare, add $1,200 for a rental car and suddenly a few tanks of gas and mom’s sanity seem cheap.

3.  You want your children to talk to you.  Be warned there will also be yelling, screaming and a few bodily threats, but you will enjoy some great conversation.  Even a teenager can only be silent for so long before they start telling you all about that boy, that girl, that party.

It's all fun and games until a tiny dog gets shot

Don’t leave home without:

1.  My favorite road signs.  They are called “Schticks” and you can buy them at Amazon.  Other favorites include “Are you drunk?” and “Get off the road”  They are useful when communicating with other drivers, they are also highly self entertaining.

2.  SNACKS.  There is nothing worse than pulling in to a nasty roadside store to buy Slim-Jims because the kids are going to die if they don’t eat NOW.

3.  Entertainment, for you and the kids.  I don’t recommend handheld video games, mostly because they always make my children vomit, fair warning.  We tried listening to “The Hobbitt” on CD on this trip, it made everyone in the car sleepy, including the driver, oops.  On the road trip home we’re going to try  Tales2Go they have a huge library of children’s stories that stream through your iPod or iPhone.

4.  Your sense of humor.  Some of our favorite family stories come from road trips, the vomit stories, the potty on the side of the road stories, the weird things you only see on the road stories:

Oompa Loompa camper?

Pimp my bus

Macie and Sydney at Times Square

For this year’s BlogHer my web designer Karin and I decided to bring our daughters with us to New York City.  They think we’re just here to shop and stay in a fancy hotel.  It wouldn’t be a Luxury Travel Mom trip if it didn’t involve a little shoe happiness and some turn down service, but we have an ulterior motive.  This is our version of “bring your daughter’s to work” day (or weekend).  It’s hard to explain that blogging really is more than just playing on the computer.  It’s not like Facebook, there’s no Farmville, but the other bloggers really are my friends.  Most importantly it is real work.  Just because we don’t get paid, doesn’t mean it’s not work.  Sort of like motherhood.

Our grand adventure has so far been fabulous.  Spending time in New York City always makes me wonder why I don’t do it more often.  Then I fell asleep in the front row of “Lion King” and I remembered, it’s because I’m tired, really tired.  So today I let my friend take the girls on an NBC tour while I explored The Waldorf  Astoria Towers.

My sweet husband booked us at the Towers, I had never been, not sure why, I love The Ritz, The Plaza and The St. Regis, why try someone new?  Checking in was a debacle as Joe Biden was checking out and they shut down the block so his motorcade could leave.  Right then I decided I love this hotel, I’m that easily swayed by celebrity.   The Towers is “hotel within a hotel”, with a private entrance and separate staff.  While waiting for my room to be ready I thought I would “research” the Guerlain Spa.  They greet each guest with champagne, an excellent way to start any new relationship.  While I was chatting about my stressful trip in to the city (I hit a Knish cart, the Biden motorcade, blah, blah)  the cloudy skies parted and they mentioned that the person who was supposed to be getting a 90 minute massage right then had cancelled, did I want the spot?  I swear I heard the angels singing.

I’ve tried my share of spas, but I’ve never paid this much, and felt it was worth every penny.  Fair warning, a 90 min. massage is $400 (gratuity included).  Did I mention I fell asleep at Lion King and hadn’t sat still since I got back from Haiti.  Yes, I’m using my trip to Haiti to justify my overpriced massage, I’m only slightly ashamed.  Each treatment room includes a private bathroom complete with shower.  No public disrobing and showering, I like that.  But wait, it gets better.  Once in your robe, with champagne in hand, they give you a foot bath with this crazy drop away floor underneath a cozy couch.  The luxury is CRAZY, and I’m so happy.

Foot bath of happiness

While at the spa, the front desk called, my room was ready, and they had upgraded me to a Luxury Suite.  Seriously, I didn’t even ask, or give them my card.  This place is just that nice, which is obviously why Joe Biden stays here.  They probably upgraded him too.  The suite is huge, it’s a little tired (like me), but I love the comfort.  I’m less enamored by the fancy new hotels than I am by the Grande Dames and by coddling service.  Compared with the price of say The Plaza or The Ritz, The Waldorf Towers are surprisingly affordable (in a relative sense).  A suite comes with complimentary breakfast, free access to the spa and fitness center but you still have to pay for wi-fi.  I guess you can’t have it all.

So tomorrow we’re going to see if we were crazy to bring our daughters to BlogHer.  I find the whole event altogether overwhelming.  So many people, so many cards, so many parties I didn’t know I was supposed to rsvp for.  I’m excited to share it with my great friend and our daughters.  We thought we were planning a trip the girls would never forget, I’m pretty sure we’ve planned a trip we’ll never forget.

Am pretty sure tomorrow’s post won’t include massages, but I didn’t think today’s would include and encounter with the veep and my hit and run on the Knish cart, that’s what I love about NYC, you never know what will happen.

Rwanda, not exactly a luxury destination, but the most fabulous trip I’ve taken in a long time. For each of my children’s 10th birthdays I take them on a mommy & me trip. It’s more for me than them, am hoping they don’t get wise to me.  For my oldest daughter’s trip, she chose Paris, we bought shoes and ate chocolate. When it came time for my next child to choose his destination the ideal trip presented itself to us.  We have been supporters of Partners in Health for years, in fact my son has been accompanying me to their annual meetings for the last 2 years. When the opportunity came up to visit PIH and tour the medical center that we helped to build, he jumped at the opportunity.

I was shocked at how many of our well educated and well traveled friends were stunned that I would take a 9 year old child to Rwanda. The country does live in our collective memories as a place of horrors, and rightly so. However modern Rwanda is actually quite safe and is a fascinating place to visit. Unlike many other economically disadvantaged countries I’ve visited I never felt harassed or preyed upon in Kigali (the capital) or in any of the villages. Only once did a child announce “you give me some money”, I think it was the only english he knew (besides, “how old are you?” which I was asked repeatedly…and never answered). I’m not sure he wanted money as much as he just wanted to test out his english, and if someone gave him some cash, all the better.
Getting to Rwanda was easier than I thought it would be. We flew directly to Brussels from New York, as Rwanda was a Belgian Colony, many inbound flights originate from there. Ironically, the Brussels/Rwanda leg of the flight on Brussels Air was much more luxurious than the NY/Brussels leg on American Airlines. Hot food, comfortable seats and well dressed flight attendants speaking French, it didn’t really feel as if we were headed to a war torn african country.  We were lucky to have some inside help from Partners in Health in arranging a car and driver.  Our driver it turns out had been in the army and took amazing care of us.  Did we need him for safety?  No.  Did I feel better having a driver who knew the area and was looking out for us?  Yes.  We met many cute American girls living in Rwanda working for various NGO’s and charities, they all used public transportation and felt perfectly safe.

Over the next few weeks I’ll recount our trip, including some guest blogging by my son, he recounts it as a “life changing experience”.  Which is adorable, given that he’s just now turning 10, how much changing could his life have needed?

As my 9 year old and I prepared for a week long trip to Rwanda I can’t count how many times I was met with shock, awe and often stunned surprise that I would take my child to what many considered a dangerous country.

It’s true that Rwanda lives in our collective memory as a place of horrors and not much has been said of late to change anyone’s mind.  Time and again intelligent and well traveled friends would counsel me against my trip or at the very least caution me to be “on guard” (whatever that means).  I suppose the government of Rwanda has more important matters to attend to than the public relations spin on travel to their country.

Our trip was to be some parts mission, some parts research and just a little bit of fun (yes, I said fun in Rwanda).  We have supported Partners in Health, an organization that has been building medical centers in some of the poorest countries, and planned to visit a health center that we had been a part of funding.  We traveled with my friend Lesley and her two children, ages 9 and 11.  We had also arranged to visit World Vision and meet the children that we had been sponsoring through their organization.  Lastly, Rwanda still has a fabulous game preserve and we were hopeful that we might see some great African wildlife.

While I wasn’t worried about our safety in Rwanda, it’s currently one of the safest African countries to travel to, a few friends did make some arguments that gave me pause.  One friend in particular was worried that I would be exposing my son to a level of poverty and human misery that would be more than he could comprehend.  Another pointed out that a group of blonde, white people might make excellent targets for kidnappers (that’s Mexico, and another story).  We were lucky enough to have our travel organized by Partners in Health and had hired a professional driver who would be with us any time we were out of the hotel.  Do I think this is necessary?  Absolutely not.  Did it make me feel better?  Absolutely yes.

Getting to Rwanda is easier than you might think.  Most flights connect through Brussels, after learning that Rwanda had been a Belgian colony, this made more sense.  In one of the many ironic twists on our trip, the flight from Brussels to Rwanda was far more luxurious than our flight from New York to Brussels.  There are also a few somewhat “westernized” hotels in Kigali (the capital city of Rwanda).  No, I haven’t seen Hotel Rwanda and am not sure I’ll ever be up to it.  The Serena Hotel is the most luxurious, however locals take a dim view of westerners who come to “help” and stay in such nice digs.  I heard a few unkind comments about the venerable preacher Rick Warren whose group has come to Rwanda many times, it doesn’t seem to the people like they’ve done much, and they always stay at the Serena.

There is a new property just developed by the Chinese that includes a casino, also frowned upon, and I’m told the construction was suspect.  We stayed at the LAICO Umubano hotel, formerly known as the Novotel.  It reminded me of the many motel vacations we took as a child.  While the remote controls weren’t bolted to the night stands, I can only assume it was due to lack of bolts.  The hotel does boast a pool and clay tennis courts, it also has a lovely restaurant, a patisserie and available wi-fi.  I was told that all hotel transactions were made in cash so I was packing enough Franklins to make me nervous.  They do take credit cards, so the cash came in handy at the markets. Basket anyone?

Over the next few weeks I’ll be posting about our visit with our World Vision children, our trip to Partners in Health medical centers and our “safari”.

The holidays are upon us (according to WalMart and their jingly commercials) and I’ve been pondering what I’d like for Christmas this year.  I’m sure it will come as no surprise that all I want is a first class ticket somewhere, anywhere.  Since that is likely not going to appear in my stocking, I’ve been thinking about what I need to make a coach seat feel like a first class ticket to ride.  I’m leaving for Rwanda on Friday and unless my upgrade clears (not likely) I will be flying for roughly 24 hours in a cramped, miserable coach seat.  I know, I’m a whiner, but red-eyes in the back of the bus are miserable, and no one can deny that.

So, I have my eye on some fab items I saw on www.Magellans.com.  They come highly recommended by my favorite travel writer Wendy Perrin.  They look so appealing in fact that I’m considering treating myself to an early Christmas present.  Wendy swears by the self-inflating seat cushion.  I don’t know about you, but I’ve lost feeling in my nether regions more than once on a long flight.  This magical cushion supposedly makes you feel as if you’ve “flown on a cloud of air”.  My booty could use that.  The other downside to non-first class flying (one of many actually) is the nasty neck crick I always seem to get from trying to sleep sitting up.  Magellan also has the Inflatable Komfort Kollar (what’s with all the k’s?), anyhow, though it looks as if it is meant to be used by a whiplash victim, again Wendy swears by it.  Having spent enough flights with my head twisted in unnatural positions in a useless attempt at restful sleep, I’ll give the hospital looking collar (kollar?) a go.

Last but not least, I freeze on every flight.  First class or no, the plane is always too cold.  While trying not to fantasize about fully flat beds, free airplane socks and complimentary noise control headphones, I’m deciding between a Snuggie blanket (and my pride), just kidding, I have no pride, and the “Cabin Cuddler” from Magellan’s.

In addition to having been recommended by Wendy, who writes for Conde’ Nast and has done her fair share of travel, the “Komfort Kollar” has been positively reviewed by The Wall Street Journal (and who can’t trust them?).  So I think I’ll treat myself to a little early holiday cheer in the hopes of arriving in Rwanda in any condition to get something done.  Don’t feel like I’ve already bought myself everything you might  be considering gifting me, I could still use a first class ticket…somewhere…anywhere.

Don’t judge me for serving my children wine, according to the French there is no drinking age, one of the many reasons I love the French. We recently spent a grand time in the south of France in the charming village of Beaumes de Venise. We couldn’t possibly show our faces back home and admit that we were in wine country and never stepped foot in a winery. Because for God’s sake, people dream of going to the Cotes du Rhone, and we were there and only ate croissants and rode carousels? This imaginary ridicule, and a genuine desire to wander through one of those achingly picturesque vineyards drove my desire find a tour for our family. We didn’t bring a babysitter with us, or have access to one, yes it was a very long 10 days, so we decided to see if there was a winery that would accommodate children. Enter Olivier from Wine Uncovered.

Olivier runs private excursions, usually for adults who are either wine snobs or just want to drink a lot. We didn’t really fit any of his regular clientele categories. However he has children of his own and decided to craft a tour specifically for our family (brave man). My 11 year old daughter couldn’t believe her good luck; she would be able to go home and brag to her friends that she DRANK WINE. The boys were just looking for a good excuse to run through the field and play some sort of Star Wars based game that I don’t believe had any relevance, except to them.

Olivier took us to Domaine La Garrigue in Gigondas and started our journey with a dreamy walk through the vineyards as he explained the difference between the young and old vines (I tried not too read too much into the similarities between my aging neck and said vines). He explained the “green harvest” and tried to impress the boys by showing them how nasty and sour the early grapes were, my 6 year old has never met a food he didn’t like and promptly devoured each and every tart little morsel. He’s going to be the guy in the frat who will eat anything, living or dead, for a buck.

We spent the next hour or so engaged in a fabulous hands-on experiment where the children learned all about the crushing of the grapes, the fermentation, etc. My 9 year old still thinks that “whoever left some grape juice in a jar for too long before they drank it and then fell over” must have been some brave dude.

After a great trip through the winery itself we finally got the part everyone had been waiting for, the drinking. You’ll really need to watch the video to get the feel for how fun it was to see the children’s first taste of wine. No one cared for it much until we tasted the wines from the 100 year old vines, at which point my 11 year old daughter announced “mmm, now that’s good”, if she’s going to drink in college, least she’ll have good taste.

According to my online thesaurus, there is only one word you can use to describe luxury…luxury.  This makes it tough for me to find other ways to describe what this blog is about.  It isn’t about always staying at the Ritz (though I do prefer it, come on, who doesn’t?), it’s about great travel experiences with your family.

Luxury has a different definition for everyone.  Luxury to me is taking a hot shower with no little friends “helping” me.  Luxury to my husband is time to spend with his family.  Luxury to my children often involves candy, and it isn’t the expensive kind.

According to the dictionary luxury is defined as “something inessential but conducive to pleasure and comfort”.

I’m hoping to bring you travel stories, tips and tricks to help you and your family make the most of your precious family vacation time.