This summer, we took our three small children on a trip to Indonesia, starting in Bali. After careful planning and booking, our journey kicked off at 5 a.m. with a taxi, arriving at Schiphol by 6:30 a.m. But our flight to Kuala Lumpur was delayed 8 hours. Picture us there: heavy backpacks, three half-asleep kids, staring in disbelief at the departure screen.
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After hours of waiting—including 5 at McDonald's—we finally flew that evening. The delay faded fast. Bali was paradise. The kids splashed endlessly in the ocean and pool. Excursions went smoothly. I'd lost sleep worrying about far-flung travel with toddlers, but it felt natural.
Rice terraces awed them, unaware of our terror at the heights. The monkey temple? Pure 'monkey chaos.' Water temples? Fancy pools. After a week, we backpacked to Makassar, then Ambon.
I'd prepped the kids: no Nintendo DS. 'Adapt and play anywhere,' was our motto. It worked wonders. Kids connect across languages, inventing games from nothing. My son raced a bicycle tire with a stick at breakneck speed. The DS sat forgotten in Bali. This trip exceeded dreams—sticks and stones proved the best toys!
I toted hand-sanitizer everywhere, but kids are resilient. Passing village women washing clothes, my son noted, “Look, Mom, no dryer here.” Spot on—they hand-wash in streams and air-dry.
“Mom, if we're ditching the DS, you adapt too?” That night, I hand-washed our laundry, bypassing the hotel service. Nothing beats the honest mirror kids hold up. Next year? Absolutely.
By: Rachelle Verhagen
