Her Name is Rio.

We’re in Rio; the land of carnival, favelas, drug cartels, political unrest…oh and Christ the Redeemer – that famous symbol of peace. The final city on our travels and with just under 2 weeks to go until we head home, we have very mixed emotions.

We were genuinely excited about ending our trip here (with it being so kid-friendly and all). That was until literally everyone said ‘Oh you’re off to Rio next. Have fun. BE CAREFUL.’ The constant, yet well intentioned warnings did go some way to reassuring us that we are the worst parents on the planet. However, despite the dampened spirits, we can honestly say that so far it’s been amazing. We are also pleased to report that we are all still alive, no one has shown any interest in stealing the kids and as far as we are aware Leo hasn’t started dabbling in narcotics.

On a serious note, one of the things we have loved about Rio is that it is the only city we have been to that has beaches, making it feel like a ‘proper’ holiday. Although we are technically in their winter season, most days here are still 30c plus and with highs of 55c in the summer, it’s easy to see why locals describe it as having two seasons: summer and hell. The heat combined with living in a city that is surrounded by the sea makes it very easy to be lazy here (something we‘re pretty great at) which is why we’ve spent our first few weeks doing very little with our arses planted firmly on Ipanema beach.

The arrival of Lanre’s sister (Asabe) and her friend Tamara did thank goodness, sort us right out. Anyone who knows Asabe, knows that being the exact opposite of lazy is something she is pretty great at…Three days into her arrival and our lazy backsides had seen Christ the Redeemer, Sugarloaf Mountain, Copacabana beach and the colourful steps of Escadaria Selaron.

A mixed bag, the views from the Sugarloaf mountain and the sheer size and presence of Christ the Redeemer really are incredible sites to behold. That said, the 57 coach loads of tourists all pulling the exact same arms wide pose for their cameras ironically made the experience exactly the opposite of everything the statue stands for. This combined with a toddler sized meltdown and repeated requests to leave took a little bit of the shine off.

After a few days of actually doing ‘stuff’ we headed off to Paraty for a well earned break. A 5-hour coach journey broken up only by the repeated questions of ‘are we nearly there yet?’ and ‘is this it now?’, we are pleased to say it was well worth the trip. A small town backed by mountains in between Rio & Sao Paulo, Paraty has sixty beaches with some very blue waters. The town itself is beautiful with colourful houses and cobbled streets but the high point of our stay was hiring a small boat and spending the day island hopping.

Now back in Rio, with only a couple of weeks left until we head home and in all honesty it feels extremely weird. Six months isn’t a huge amount of time in the grand scheme of things but as it draws to a close we can’t help but feel sad, a bit relieved, excited, proud, nervous and a whole lot more that we can’t quite put into words yet (but I’m sure we will attempt to bang on about later).

We are sad to say that Asabe and Tamara have left us and we are back to our lazy best…so for now and probably for the next few weeks, off to the beach it is then.

On The Road Again.

It’s been a while since our last post and in terms of ground covered, it’s probably been our busiest three weeks yet. We’ve split our time between Mendoza, Rosario De La Frontera, Salta, Jujuy, Puerto Iguazu and Foz do Iguazu before heading on to Rio (and breathe). This has involved 2 countries, 3 flights, some seriously lengthy road trips, our friend’s sisters house and 4 separate hotels. Not an easy feat with two young kids and enough luggage to piss off virtually everyone who has had the misfortune of coming into contact with us.

Whilst we’ve had a great time and have seen some truly amazing places, it’s fair to say that despite this, some days have been pretty testing. With this in mind, this post is divided into three parts – the good, the bad and the ugly.

The Good

This is a fairly easy place to begin, starting with Mendoza. Known as Argentina’s wine region, it was always going to be hard to have a bad time here. We spent a day at Bodega De Azul in Valle De Uco where we had a wine tour, followed by lunch and wine tasting. The setting was beautiful, and the owners have kids so the boys played happily in the garden. We were worried about taking them on the tour but we spoke to the owner in advance and in his words ‘I have children. If people have a problem with them being here then frankly they can piss off.’ We already loved him.

As well as A LOT of wine, Mendoza gave us the view of Aconcagua (one of the tallest mountains in South America) and a great day at the Termus Cacheuta hot springs and water park. We also made a new friend in Ludo (our taxi driver) who, despite being stuck in the car for hours on end with our kids, still wanted us to come to his house to spend the day with his family and celebrate the bank holiday. Great people, they made it a part of our trip that will be hard to forget.

After Mendoza we flew to Salta where we stayed with a friends’ sister and her family in Rosario De La Frontera. A week of home-cooked food and being massively looked after it honestly felt like a holiday within a holiday. Not only did she drive us to see the colourful mountains and salt flats in Jujuy they also provided child care and took us on a proper Argentinian night out (even throwing in clothes for Natalie). It was the kind of night where you don’t leave the house until midnight and if you’re home before 4am you’ve let everyone down – something that nearly killed both of us! Although we loved our time with them, we honestly couldn’t keep up and we’re pretty sure that after a week of feeding, housing and organising us they were happy to see us head off to Iguazu so they could get some normality back.

One of the seven wonders of the world, referring to the Iguazu Falls as our final ‘good’ is probably a bit of an understatement. The bulk of the falls are on the Argentinian side, so we spent three days on this side before crossing the border to spend two days on the Brazilian side. We walked through the trails on foot and actually took it in turns to go into the falls on a speed boat, mildly terrifying but an experience like nothing else in this world. The views are incredible and nothing prepares you for its vast expanse. It’s definitely nature at its best.

The Bad

So, the bad. No one likes a moaner, and a lucky one really makes for the biggest kind of arsehole so we will try and keep this section fairly honest. A trip like this with children takes a lot of planning and now we’re on it we’ve seen a lot of our best made plans go to shit. The last few weeks have definitely been the most choppy and the distance between some of the sites we’ve seen has involved a lot of driving and time spent in the car isn’t fun for the boys. After a 700km roundtrip north to see the colourful mountains and salt flats, it’s fair to say that the ‘guess the animal’ game was wearing fairly thin for everyone. This combined with adapting to the crazy Argentinian way of life which essentially involves no sleep (these people are seriously hardcore) made for two very cranky parents.

The journey back from the salt flats took nearly 5-hours and the original plan for the next day was to go on the ‘Train in the Clouds’ to see more of the area. This never happened. We’d crammed way too much into our last few days in this part of Argentina. The boys were absolutely shattered and you could see the relief on Leo’s face when we told him we would be going to soft play instead of going on the train. We wish we could say we were devastated to miss out on one of the main reasons we came to Salta but the truth is we were also exhausted and the thought of getting up at 4am to catch a 3-hour bus in order to go on a train to nowhere for 1.5 hours seemed like absolute torture for everyone involved. Sometimes rolling around in a ball pit for hours really can make everyone happy. This does mean however, that having spent a day and a half in Salta, the only thing we saw was the inside of the shopping mall and our hotel. This is part of the reality of travelling with children, you just have to accept that some things just aren’t worth the tantrums that follow – the third highest train in the world is one of them.

We also hadn’t accounted for the extreme changes in weather we would be exposed to over a three-week period. Being in the Andes is obviously very cold so we started our 3 weeks in coats, scarves and hats before ending it in the 26-degree heat of the Iguazu Falls. This made packing nearly impossible and the number of hotel changes meant constantly living out of suitcases in shared family rooms.

This leads us on to our final point. It takes the patience of a saint to spend 3 weeks in a shared bedroom with your children. Particularly when one of them is 4. After several hotel changes, we established that where we were staying on the Brazil side of the falls was only a 20-minute drive across the border from the hotel we started in. Yep, it is possible to see both sides of the falls from one hotel. A fairly low moment for everyone involved.

The Ugly

And to the ugly. It wouldn’t be us if we didn’t briefly mention shit. I’m pleased to say that Leo (as always) provided the goods. A 12-hour road trip with a 4-year old to a large expanse of salt flats with no loo for miles – what could possibly go wrong? We are reliably informed by our tour guide that it is the only time in years of working there that she has witnessed someone shit into a plastic bag on one of nature’s biggest wonders.

The final ugly. Natalie’s hair. 3 weeks of extreme weather changes ending in humidity and a giant waterfall. Lovely! We will just leave the pictures here…

Who Let The Dogs Out

4 Countries and 7 flights down and we’ve hit a bit of a milestone in the last couple of weeks – the half way point of our trip. As an aside from this (and a much more significant milestone to us) we managed to leave the house and have a couple of nights out without the kids. Yep, we had a good old English ‘knees up’. Granted, it only took Natalie two glasses but we actually got proper wine drunk and it wasn’t in front of the telly! This is the kind of miracle that rarely happens in London and after three months of being with the boys 24/7 we’re pretty sure they were as happy to see us go out as we were to leave.

For this miracle we have two people to thank.. Firstly Carolina, our new Argentinian best friend. One of the main things that has struck us since being in Argentina is how warm people are and the ability they have to involve you in their lives. They can do this in a way that is wholly unnatural to us English (ish) folk. Carolina is the perfect example of this. We met her through finding our apartment and from the outset she was nothing but kind and frankly the kids couldn’t wait to spend time with her and not us.

Our first venture out of the house was relatively tame..What did we do with this level of freedom in a brand new country? Sit in a dark room for three hours not speaking a word to each other whilst watching Avengers – End Game. Heaven. Well, one of us loved the film the other one just wanted the silence.

The second person we have to thank is Victoria. A friend from home who spent her hard earned cash and a 13-hour flight from London to risk a holiday that involved the promise of a sofa bed, other people’s children (hideous for everyone, even when you have your own) and a night out with our very own Del Boy. Victoria doesn’t read our ramblings (can’t say we blame her) but we would like to say thanks for the babysitting, cooking the birthday boy some jollof rice and flying over with enough Camembert to make Natalie very happy and the apartment stink for weeks.

On a serious note, apart from the cheese, Victoria bought a much needed fresh energy and we managed to see a very different side to Buenos Aries. It really is a party town – no one steps foot in a nightclub until 2am and in fact most of them don’t open until then. It took all our energy to stay up and my god did the kids make us pay for it the next day but a BA night out really is all it’s cracked up to be.

Other than nights out, Victoria’s visit prompted us to take a day trip to Uruguay by boat. Squeezing in a visit to another country in a day seemed ambitious but it’s actually a short ferry trip across the Rio De La Plata to Colonia and despite the 5.00am wake up call and hideous hang over it was well worth it. We hired a golf buggy to drive around the city and this gave us the time to see most of it from the historic cobbled streets to the museums, cafes and beach. Despite our best efforts, even we couldn’t crash a golf buggy but apparently it is possible to be slapped with a £50 parking fine for parking it the wrong way on a one way street..the jury’s still out on who’s fault this one was but there’s one thing we’re fairly sure of and that is that it must have been a very slow day for the Colonia police.

One final special mention we want to make is to Anita and Gisele. Despite us repeatedly telling our toddler that nothing good comes out of talking to strangers in a park, on this occasion we were proved very wrong! Thank you for giving us our very first taste of Mate (South Americas answer to a decent cup of tea) and for inviting us for our first Asado. It was everything we hoped it would be and more!

So our time in Buenos Aries has come to an end and whilst the place was great it’s honestly been the people that have made it amazing for us. As well as some lovely gifts including a Gaucho knife and our very own horseshoe for luck we will be taking away lots of amazing memories and hopefully some friendships for life.

Now a couple of days into Mendoza we are loving being back in nature and enjoying a complete change of scene but for now we just wanted to say, Muchos Gracias y Abrazo x

Don’t Cry For Me Argentina

So, Buenos Aires, where do we begin?

Known for its amazing steak, Malbec, Boca Juniors and of course the Tango, this was one of the cities that our resident Nigerian was most excited to see. As a non-steak eating, white wine drinker, whose dance moves have at best been described as ‘trying’ the whitest member of our family was slightly less enamoured by the idea of it. That said, as we would be celebrating Mother’s Day, a 4th birthday, a 1st birthday and Easter here, all our hopes were very high.

Sadly, and very unexpectedly we got off to a bit of a rocky start. Prior to this whole adventure we used to think of ourselves as fairly down to earth people who can rough it with the best of them, but Buenos Aries has quickly dispelled us of this notion. We arrived in our first apartment and whilst the hosts were amazing and it was decorated beautifully, like a lot of beautiful things, what lay beneath the surface was in fact pretty ugly.

A ground floor apartment, by day two we realised we were sharing it with half the cities cockroaches, one of which was making itself very comfortable in our toddlers’ bed. The open drains in the bathroom and kitchen floor left a permanent smell of shit and every few days or whenever you did any washing (basically daily in our case) the kitchen floor flooded (things that of course were never captured in the Airbnb brochure). The location was also questionable, described in the advert as a ‘stunning downtown apartment’ a few conversations with the working locals made us realise that no one in their right mind (especially with kids) lives downtown. This was further cemented by the sex shop at the end of our road and an awkward conversation with our toddler who wanted to know what the gimp mask in the window was and even more weirdly, if he could have it for his birthday.

It’s amazing how where you stay can influence your opinion of a city and whilst we tried to be out of the house as much as possible, we are ultimately very lazy people and this fake attempt at positivity was making all of us miserable. Like good, pre-prepared idiots we had of course paid for 4 weeks in advance but after two weeks and a very awkward chat with the owners, we had to go.

Now resettled in Palermo, a much greener part of town we’ve hit reset and things are definitely on the up. So far, we have seen the famous Recoleta Cemetery where we paid our dues to Eva Peron, visited the colourful streets of El Caminito, taken a tour of the Boca Juniors stadium and have travelled further afield to Tigre and the amazingly erie and deserted village of Campanopolis (think Tim Burton meets Westworld). We’ve also checked out the street food and Sunday markets at Feria De San Telmo and have eaten steak at Don Julio, a restaurant that even made a convert out of Natalie. A trip to Lujan Zoo in the provinces was a big hit with the boys even though the antics of two of the more amorous lions raised more interesting questions than the gimp mask had.

So all in all, things are ticking along nicely and although we’ve been a bit citied out, we are starting to love Buenos Aries. A pending visit from a friend (who has kindly offered to babysit for a night) may even result in us seeing some of its famous night life and depending on the number of white wines consumed, BA may even be subjected to the world’s worst Tango. Next stop is Mendoza and we can’t wait to see some nature again.

May even hire a car…

Space Oddity.

So, this post will be less about what we’ve seen, pissed on or eaten and more about well, all the shit in between. Basically, feelings.

At the time of writing we are on day 62 of 175 of our self-imposed exile from strong and stable Blighty. We’re currently in Buenos Aires and whilst it’s a world away from the 9-5pm and (thank god) literally everyone’s opinions on Brexit. There are a lot of days where this shit is really fucking hard.

In our former lives there was always the escape of work, friends, nursery, family, familiarity, Game of Thrones, Peckham, Sunday roasts and Nigerian food (at least for one of us). In this life we don’t have any of these but still have two wonderful but exhausting children to keep alive and entertained. All games under the sun have been played on repeat and we have come to the prognosis that if our toddler were changed into a robot he would come with 5 basic settings:

“Can we play?” – often stated whilst you are actually playing with him.
“Tell me an imaginary story?” – requested on every car, walk, train and bus journey.
“Mummy, I need you” – over and over and over again.
“Not you Daddy, Mummy do it” – Anything & everything. Literally no one wins in this scenario.
“Again, Again, Again, Again” – Please god, not again.

Coupled with all the adventures we are having, and they are amazing, there is also a guilt that comes alongside them. These flit between:

Are the children happy and stimulated?
How much of this trip is for them and how much for us?
Is our eldest missing spending time with children of his own age? This one particularly hurts when we go to playgrounds and see him try to make friends. Kids can be brutal and this is made even harder when you can’t speak the language.

Now we realise that these are just the normal trials and tribulations of parenthood regardless of where you are in the world but you would usually have others to help carry the load (Netflix, playdates, drinking buddies, neighbours etc). In our current reality, we only have each other and that means one of us has to be at peak parenting levels for at least 16 hours of each day, everyday. We wish we could say that we have accomplished these lofty standards but the truth is we haven’t. In some instances (and where we’ve had access to it) television has been the parent, counsellor and mediator in our household.

The other question we both ask ourselves is – Can I kill my other half and get away with it? We often crave more time with our families and live for the weekend but have you ever spent months with them 24/7 with no break and no one else other than children to speak to? We have tried to give each other a break and on the rare occasion that both children fall asleep at the same time, a few bottles of wine have been drunk at super-human speed but, these moments are very few and far between.

The other thing they don’t tell you about on the insta perfect travel blogs is how much you will miss ‘things’. Constant moving around means you are basically limited to 4 outfits on rotation and there are next to no luxuries (the absence of hair straighteners, a decent barber, an English phone that can actually access the Internet when you leave the house). This, combined with a feeling that your ‘home things’ are scattered around the world – our flat and furniture has been rented out, our car has been loaned out and what is left of our stuff is split between storage and family and friends lofts. Not the end of the world but there is a constant feeling of ‘we’ll deal with that when we get back to reality.’

So, there it is. Things are far from Instagram perfect and whilst they are great we are a little bit on the tired side. That said, this long trip of ours will keep finding ways to energise us. If it doesn’t, the coffee and wine will.

Till next time.

The Wheels On The Bus

It’s been a quiet couple of weeks for us (no car crashes, no plane journeys and everyone still has their passport). Following our own advice, we’ve ditched the hire car and after a day at the police station and notary office obtaining various declaration forms we miraculously didn’t lose our security deposit. Unsurprisingly, Duolingo didn’t have a section for ‘crap driver in a foreign country’ so we can only assume that after watching us gesture and draw diagrams for an hour, Notary Officer Guerrero either took pity on us or lost the will to live.

As we were in a more relaxed state of mind, we decided to take a couple of little mini breaks from Santiago – we spent a few days further north visiting the port town of Valparaiso and stayed by the coast in Concon before later heading much further south to Pucon. Only a two hour drive, Concon is a surfers paradise – we don’t surf but it’s nice to pretend. Beautiful dunes surround the harbour and locals gather most nights to watch the sunset over the beach. Despite the short distance, Concon was a full 10 degrees cooler and had a very different atmosphere to Santiago. It was great for a short break and despite taking a wrong turning and getting lost on a giant uphill cliff walk in Valparaíso, even we couldn’t find anything to complain about.

Our next stop, Pucon, was a much lengthier journey; 11 hours on the night bus. Originally we thought this might be too much with the boys but to the relief of us and all our fellow passengers they slept the entire journey. Apparently a soft bed and a cot are a struggle most nights but if you put them on an uncomfortable coach seat and surround them with smelly backpackers they’re set for the night! True to form however our toddler decided to leave his mark on the coach seat. Luckily for us the aroma blended in nicely but it has re-enforced our concern that there really is nowhere that this boy won’t take a piss.

Despite the lengthy journey, Pucon is beautiful and it’s well worth it. Set in the Lake District and overlooked by the Villarrica volcano there’s lots to do for adventurers and for families. We took a day trip to visit some of the local lakes and waterfalls and ended up in the hot springs. Lanre (also true to form) made some friends and by the end of the day Marcelo and Graciela, now referred to as our Chilean family, had invited us to spend the next morning with them visiting the volcano and its underground caves. Marcelo picked us up in his car and Natalie spent the entire morning smiling, nodding and saying ‘gracias’ on repeat whilst silently praying that they weren’t serial killers, or that Lanre hadn’t completely misinterpreted the ‘invite’ and we’d just turned up on their morning out. Luckily, it was a really nice day, no one died, the volcano didn’t erupt and although three members of the family understood virtually none of what they said Marcelo and Graciela seemed really nice.

As we write this we are now on the night bus back to Santiago. So far all is well and the kids are both asleep so we can safely (ish) say that both our unplanned mini breaks have been a success. Whilst we’re totally unsure what the next 10 hours have in store for us, it’s fair to assume two things: Lanre will probably make a new friend (willingly or not) and Leo will very likely piss on something.

Shut Up And Drive.

For the sake of our marriage the author of this post will remain nameless but what I will say is that all viewpoints expressed are highly factual and my ‘better half’ can safely be named as one of the worst drivers on the planet (who that is, you can decide!). That said, as this is a family blog, the non-author would like me to add that there are three truths in this world. My truth, their truth and THE truth.

Our weekend started full of hope – “We should hire a car and go on a road trip. We can see lots of Chile and the kids will love it.” It was a great idea but like all great ideas it was ‘great’ because it wasn’t tainted by reality. We found a car hire company, they had reasonable prices and gave the promise of providing a car seat. All seemed well. We duly signed the documents (all in Spanish) and agreed to take it for three days and return to collect it in two.

Our plan for day one was to visit Buin Zoo. Only a 40-minute drive and sure to be a hit with the boys (we thought). We turned up to collect the car only to find the car seat hadn’t materialised and they didn’t in fact have one. After promising to reimburse us the cost if we bought one, we headed into the city to find a car seat. An hour’s addition to the drive spent mostly travelling in the wrong direction. Car seat purchased and hope still in place, we set off. Unfortunately, the traffic out of the city was shite and the car seat was about as popular with our youngest as the detour to get it had been with us. Cue relentless screaming.

At this point I feel I should mention that in Chile they drive on the right-hand side of the road. Something that doesn’t come naturally to South Londoners. Confidence was waning, and our extreme internal anxiety was still set to the relentless sobbing of our youngest. The journey seemed to be lasting forever and upon later realisation – It was. The phone it would seem, was programmed to avoid toll roads. This diversion had successfully taken us down every tiny Chilean side road you can imagine, adding another hour on to the journey time. Things couldn’t be going much worse, so the time seemed ripe for an enormous pick-up truck to ram into the back of us at the traffic lights. Our designated driver jumped out only to be yelled at in Spanish. We didn’t understand, he didn’t understand, NO ONE understood. It would seem however, despite the language barrier, the middle finger is a fairly internationally recognised gesture. This well-mannered exchange went on for at least three sets of traffic light changes, making us increasingly popular with the locals who made their pleasure known with a lot of honking. ‘Happy honks’ as we later explained to the children.

Stress levels were high when we arrived at the zoo at 3pm (we’d set off at 10am). The zoo was, well frankly a zoo. Was it worth it? Absolutely not. In fact, the trip was summed up nicely by our three-year-old: “Mummy this zoo is rubbish.” We couldn’t have agreed more.

After a day off driving, our confidence was misguidedly restored when we decided to take the car out again the following day. Off we went to Cajon Del Maipo (a mountain reserve near the base of the Andes), what could possibly go wrong?! Turns out quite a lot. Cajon Del Maipo is huge and the part we wanted to see, Embalse El Yeso, was an hour and a half further along than we had bargained for and involved scaling up a mountain side on a dirt track.

After several rows and some major back seat driving, we made it up. The views were seriously incredible and when everyone had all calmed down a bit, we sat down to have a picnic with the kids overlooking the gorge. Sometimes soggy ham and cheese sandwiches and a juice box really can make everything better. It was however getting late and as we had walked far we decided our driver would get the car and come to collect us, so the boys didn’t have to walk back. I0 minutes passed, 20 minutes passed and said driver was nowhere to be seen. We scaled back down the mountain in the direction of the car to see a rather dejected looking face walking back towards us. It would seem that after several attempts at turning the car around, the mountain had won the fight and the side of the car that was as yet unharmed was now…well, pretty harmed. Eventually, we made it home – just barely, as the phone we were using to navigate died 15 minutes before we got back. The car journey was a lot quieter. It seems that sometimes the greatest way to say something really is to say nothing at all.

The moral of the story is, if you’re ever in Chile, Cajon Del Maipo really is well worth a visit but maybe for the sake of your relationship you should take the bus.

Park Life.

Like Paddington we’ve left ‘Darkest Peru’ behind with a heavy heart. Our journey was equally shite (less lifeboat and marmalade, more plane delays and Pisco) but like all good drunks, we arrived in Chile tired and ready for our next hit.

A serious lack of funds and a general laziness on our part have resulted in us doing very little in our first week – something it seems we excel at. In an attempt to be resourceful however, we took a taxi to ‘Jumbo’, the most enormous supermarket we’ve ever set foot in (think Tesco Extra on protein shakes) to stock up on goods for the week. With limited Spanish and literally no understanding of the currency (apparently there are 850 Chilean Pesos to the Pound) we’d given up on attempting to calculate the bill by the fifth trolley item. Needless to say, two overly tired children, one of which is teething were about as interested in being in Jumbo as we were and after several failed attempts at trying to identify bacon, the baby sized meltdown was in full swing. Making our arrival in Santiago well and truly known, the staff of Jumbo were almost as happy to see the back of us as we were to leave.

What is left of the months budget is blown and we aren’t entirely sure what on, but being back in 29 degree heat means the little punks have been seemingly more entertained by the playground and swimming pool than they were by Machu Picchu, which has been a substantial result. So, its been a park life for us and luckily the parks around here seriously deliver. A trip to the Bicentenario Park offered some incredible views of the city. Truly a great thing as up until this point we hadn’t mustered up the energy to venture out and see it. There’s lots to do for kids when you arrive at the park, a trip on the funicular and the teleferico entertained all of us and after a lot of wandering around in the heat the huge outdoor swimming pool was like an oasis in the desert. We managed a bit of culture and made it to the top to see San Cristobal, the 2nd highest peak in the city. A walk that was only mildly marred by carrying a fold-up pushchair whilst listening to the constant wails of ’I’m tired, why can’t I go in the pushchair?’ over and over and OVER again.

Staying in Providencia has also been great. It’s very family friendly and the locals are frankly, the nicest people in the world. The nearby playground has gone down a storm with the kids and despite the language barrier, the fact that they look weirdly South American has meant they’ve made friends in the way that only kids can. Strangely, the inability of us adults to ‘blend in’ has had the same effect and by our 2nd visit we (and by we I mean, Lanre) had made a friend, exchanged numbers and been invited to an up-coming family day out (this is a particular achievement as his 10 weeks on Duolingo makes his attempts at Spanish sound about as authentic as Del Boy in the Costa Del Sol). Needless to say, as the whitest and most English member of the family, Natalie is dreading this event on every level and can’t work out if the invite was borne out of a morbid fascination with the park newbies or their guilt at watching their son repeatedly pummel her into the sand pit. We will keep you posted on how it turns out.

Despite all of this, we can honestly say (having seen very little of it) Santiago is fast becoming one of our favourite cities in the world. It will also be fondly remembered as the place where our littlest man cut his very first tooth. A build up to which, both his parents and most of the members of Jumbo would be proud of.

The kids are alright..

So here it is, the end of the first couple of weeks and everyone is still alive (just about). There’ve been ups and downs but so far, the kids are alright. Peru isn’t bad either. It was a bumpy start. After five attempts at packing enough clothes to cover a 6-month period that would also suit the varying climates of 4 different countries and two fast growing boys, we were just about ready to kill each other. We streamlined it to a point that basically meant getting rid of three-quarters of the contents of our luggage in an attempt to stay within our baggage allowance, or so we thought. If you’ve ever wondered (like we never have), whether you can combine 3 individual baggage allowances into 2, it turns out it depends on the attendant you meet at baggage drop-off. In our case Pamela, probably not her real name, said no and for 20 minutes, we became those people you see at the airport in No Man’s Land re-packing their belongings whilst being passive aggressive in a way that only a long-term couple can be, for the sake of the children. This, combined with a 9-hour flight delay of our connecting flight out of Paris, followed by Lanre dropping one of the passports into the plane turbine as we boarded (a real achievement even for him) made for a less than relaxing start. When we finally boarded the flight, the realisation dawned on us that maybe, just maybe, we didn’t have a clue what we were doing and maybe, just maybe, we were screwed. Since we couldn’t leave the plane and we’d made such a song and dance about our plans, we decided it was best to just close our eyes and NOT think of England. We landed in Lima at 2.30am local time only to find half the buggy board didn’t survive the journey but at that stage in the morning, we didn’t care and neither did the baggage attendants. The time difference meant for a slow start and bad jet lag, but it was worth it. Lima is a great city and like any great city has something for everyone, including the most demanding of children. The bohemian district of Barranco will forever be remembered for two things. Firstly, Isolina, a traditional Peruvian restaurant that caused even the fussiest toddler to eat his entire plate of food and then attack most of his fathers’ – a slow cooked short ribbed stew (apparently chicken nuggets is a push but this is acceptable). Secondly, Barranco Plaza, the place where Leo decided on an impulse to pull a moony to the entire population sat around the plaza trying to enjoy a lazy afternoon. Something we will never let him forget. Another big hit with the kids was Circuito Magico Del Agua, a water park full of fountains that you can run around in and the most amazing light shows we’ve ever seen. Unfortunately, we packed a change of outfits for the children but didn’t think to do so for ourselves and Lanre subsequently got soaked through and gave the Latin crowd a wet top and jeans competition they would have paid not to see. We were just starting to get our bearings when it was time to take our next flight to Cusco. Another 2-hour delay but luckily, Ollie came in useful as a grandmother took a shining to him and played with him for quite a stretch – he was sad to see her go, as were we. The flight was incredible, mountains everywhere and a feeling like you were living in the clouds. We were starting to feel suitably smug as we landed when we were bought back down to earth quickly by severe altitude sickness. Luckily, both kids were totally unaffected and running at their usual jacked up, sugar filled levels whilst for us, a short trip up a flight of stairs resulted in a feeling like we might pass out, vomit and die at the same time. This combined with the mountain of washing that two children can accumulate in a week meant no clothes, no food and a basic inability to move on arrival. It was at this point that peoples’ well-meaning advice chimed through our ears – “Pack light” they said, “You can buy everything out there” they said. What they didn’t say was that a mixed- race couple with two beige kids would stick out like sore thumbs and our inability to look anything other than tourists would result in having the finest alpaca wool thrust in our faces and a substantially higher clothes bill than we had bargained for. One thing we do know is our children and by the time we got to Cusco, they had rolled in every piece of dirt and shit Peru had to offer not to mention shat, dribbled, and puked their way through every outfit we packed. Off to the Lavanderia we toddled (our own personal Everest in the altitude) with our entire luggage to wash, ready to be charged by the kilo. After what felt like a lot of effort on our part, probably only the equivalent of walking down the road in South London, we got back to our bolt hole and settled in. When the altitude sickness had subsided, and we’d acclimatised, Cusco was amazing to explore. A short trip to Ccochahuasi Animal Sanctuary was a big hit with the kids and we also visited Sacsaywahman (pronounced saxy waman – especially funny when you’re 3). Sacsaywahman offered incredible viewsfrom the mountains of the city below. There was, however, a distinct lack of toilets resulting in the need for our toddler to leave a very special part of him behind a tree. This was done whilst making sure to shout ‘poo poo’ at the top of his voice so that everyone admiring the view could see his backside (P.S. we had no wipes). Despite this, it was still a very enjoyable experience. We were fairly lazy in the first few days but the main event for us was always going to be Machu Picchu. We took the bus and the train – an incredible adventure in itself and spent the night at a hotel at the base before taking the bus up the next morning. Was it worth it? Yes, it was everything we hoped it would be and more. Would we do it again with the kids? Probably not in a hurry. Once inside you get about 4 hours to explore and there is so much to see. It’s definitely hard graft though and whilst we did see a few other children, carrying our 10-month-old in the sling alongside backpacks was definitely not the easiest with our lower than average fitness levels. The essence of the place did however successfully capture our eldest for a short period but when the tiredness kicked in and the realisation that there was no buggy and two exhausted parents who couldn’t carry him on demand, what ensued can only be described as one of the worst tantrums we’ve had in a while. Feeling out of our depth at this point is an understatement but with words of encouragement, hugs (mostly for us) and some degree of patience we did it and yes, despite all of it, we left still feeling very glad we had! So, all in all the first few weeks have been great. Just like any holiday with children it’s been about as relaxing as being repeatedly hit over the head with a shovel, but we are in it together and despite their shit (figurative and literal) we wouldn’t have them any other way. The verdict so far – I’d much rather be changing nappies and washing clothes in Peru than Peckham. Next stop, Santiago, Chile.

And so it begins….

“If you never did you should. These things are fun, and fun is good.” – Dr Seuss

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No. It’s two adults having a massive midlife crisis on their way to South America for six months. Unfortunately we couldn’t find anyone to take the children, so they’ve come too.

After over a decade of living the Peckham dream and with endless school runs just around the corner, we’ve decided to run away from reality (and South London).

Over the coming months we plan to share the results of our varying stages of panic in an attempt to show you that it is never too late to do something stupid (we hope). In our case, quitting our jobs, offloading our home and car in order to take two small (and mostly oblivious) children across a continent where none of us speak the language.

So, here are all the cities we will be changing nappies and visiting countless playgrounds in:

Lima>>Cusco>>Santiago>>BuenosAires>>Mendoza>>Salta>>Iguazu >>Rio>>Reality/Peckham

If you think we are brave/stupid/irresponsible/crazy/idiotic, don’t worry…we feel exactly the same way and are absolutely terrified. If nothing else, the thought of having to spend six relentless months with our ‘blessings’ wakes us up at night in cold sweats and a serious sense of foreboding…

Wish us luck….we’ll need it.