6 Reasons Why You Should Travel With Your Parents
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Ah family holidays. People either love them or hate them. But travelling with your parents can be really rewarding, fun and most of all memorable. Here's my take on why I think everyone should travel with their ‘Rents.
Back in the day…
My early memories of travelling with my family are mixed. We mostly went on a lot of holidays in the UK which meant a lot of driving for my dad, which probably wasn't much of a holiday for him.
Cornwall, Devon, Canterbury, Land's End, Wales, Cheddar Caves (the last place is particularly memorable because my sister vomited on my sock after eating too much, an incident that I found quite upsetting).
(Excuse the quality of the early photos - my dad had to scan and email them to me and I don’t have Photoshop).
Showing off my fashun in Land’s End in Cornwall.
Not sure what’s going on here at Land’s End but I suspect it was windy. And cold.
Scotland 1994
A visit to Scotland in 1994 was a particular highlight for me as an 11 year old: it was the furthest we had ever travelled in the UK and we left during the early hours of the morning when the roads were quiet.
It felt like we were skulking away on our own secret mission.
I remember counting juggernauts on the motorway as we drove and coming up with a really annoying song that I insisted on singing:
"Whenever there are cars I go moo,
Whenever there are sheep I go baa,
Whenever there are horses I go neigh,
And when I see them all together I say,
Moo, Baa, Neigh!"
Yep, very f***king annoying.
We visited Aviemore, went on the cable car and climbed around at the top of a mountain. We travelled to Lochness and I stared out over the Loch in vain, hoping to get a glimpse of the monster.
I was totally snap happy (something that hasn’t changed) — taking lots of photos of mountains and waterfalls — it was so exciting to be somewhere new.
Our bed and breakfast host was a lovely lady called Mary, whose delicious and huge fried breakfasts every day made us wonder whether we would all eventually have heart attacks.
With Mary, the owner of our bed and breakfast in Aviemore, Scotland.
My dad then made the fatal error of asking my sister and I where in Scotland we would like to go next.
We obviously picked the furthest point possible (John O’ Groats) without taking into account the hideously winding roads he would have to traverse to get there. I was just thinking it would be cool to be able to say I had been to the two furthest points in Britain.
(Clearly, as a large-toothed, coke-bottle glasses-wearing, frizzy-haired geek, I had no idea what was actually cool.)
Man, I am SO cool.
Look how cool I am!
And so he drove and drove and drove. Onwards for hours and hours until finally we reached John ‘O Groats, the very tip of Scotland.
Upon arrival, he got his camera out, wanting to take some photos of his family around the area because perhaps that would make the epic drive worthwhile. Maybe we could all go around and look at the view?
But we just weren't interested. Getting there had been alright but now the shine had worn off.
My sister and my mum went into a souvenir shop instead of looking at the beautiful surroundings. I stayed outside to 'pose' for photos which mainly involved me making buck teeth just before the shutter clicked so that all the pictures turned out horrible.
Tell a lie, there was one photo I posed for…
It was the last straw. My dad lost it and an epic fight ensued. There was shouting and then he got into the car and slammed the door which my mum then opened and the fight continued.
We did what I imagine all well-behaved children do in these kinds of situations: we picked up his Canon camera and photographed the fight, preserving it forever in film.
Sri Lanka 1995
Undeterred, we continued to holiday together. A trip to Sri Lanka the following year — where we spent most of our time in relatives’ houses and where we were all issued clear instructions by my dad to ‘pack light’.
Instructions that we completely ignored (I think I might have packed all the summer clothes I owned).
(Also a PSA to parents out there — travelling thousands of miles to just sit in your relatives’ houses is MEGA boring for children. I didn’t discover the wonders of my motherland until I travelled independently to Sri Lanka in 2002).
I took all the clothes I owned.
So I could look good when I was trying to get close to monkeys.
The importance of my dad’s instructions was made plain when the train to Kandy arrived at the wrong platform at Colombo's Fort Railway station and my dad had to heave all our luggage up and down the stairs while we just stood and watched, our mouths agape. Whoops.
Paris 1997
In their younger days, my parents were quite itinerary driven and so sightseeing often involved zero breaks. No going home for a rest or a wee afternoon nap.
Looking at the map to find the thousandth place to visit in Paris in 35°C heat.
Are we really that annoying?
In 1997 we went on a trip to Paris and what I most remember is traipsing through the blistering heat from one tourist attraction to another.
Grumpy and stroppy, my sister and I didn't want to pose for any photos and we wandered around with faces like smacked arses.
How it started…
…How it (was) going…my dad walking off in a mood at a ticket office in Paris.
The trip culminated in a huge fight at Euro Disney after my sister and my mum disappeared to go on the rides — instead of watching the parade as my dad had suggested — leaving him furious and wondering where they were.
Maybe I wasn’t the only one that was fed up…
Exhausted and sleeping off the ‘holiday’ at the Eurostar Station in Paris
Meanwhile, I, being the ever-hungry teenager and junk food obsessive had purchased a big bag of popcorn to scoff but then my sister magically reappeared and, having developed a bit of an appetite after going on the Michael Jackson Captain EO ride, ate three-quarters of it.
And I...cried. #teenagefeels
My sister is still chewing that popcorn…
When Things Changed and We Took Over
However, as I’ve got older I have found that our family holidays have taken on a different character.
Somewhere down the line, there has been a shift and suddenly my sister and I have become the adults planning the itinerary, deciding on what to see, where to go and how to get there, when the naps/rests should be etc.
(Yes nap-time is a thing, people. Because it isn't a holiday if it is a sightseeing exhausta-thon. My dad did manage to single-handedly ruin our nap time during a 2009 trip to Cork, which my sister planned. He just kept standing outside our bedroom and…rustling plastic bags.)
Enjoying a slide in Scotland in 1994
On a trip to Leeds
And while this additional level of responsibility can be stressful (trying to wrest control away from my ever-nosey dad is no easy feat, trust me) it also opens you up to whole new experiences and definitely gives you some memorable moments to treasure.
Reasons to Travel With Your Parents
So without further ‘ado, here are my top six reasons I think you should travel with your parents:
1) You get to take them to places they wouldn't consider going or aren't confident enough to visit themselves
My sister planned an epic holiday for my parents' 40th wedding anniversary and my mum's 70th birthday: a road trip through Jordan and Israel.
Initially, she had been looking at taking them to South America, but as she wanted me to join the trip (and I was living in Malaysia at the time) we agreed that the Middle East was an easier place for all of us to travel to.
She didn't tell them anything about it, other than what to pack and kept them guessing right up until they got to the airport gate.
My dad honestly thought they were heading to San Francisco and was pretty disappointed that none of his 5 guesses were right.
They had never imagined that they would travel to Jordan and Israel - these places were just totally off their radar and they had simply put them on their list of places they would read about but never actually travel to.
Once they were there though, they absolutely loved every minute of it.
Wandering around Amman and buying falafel wraps in the street — my mum still bemoans to this day that we should have bought two falafel wraps instead of just sharing one, because it was so delicious — and staying with a Bedouin family and sleeping in the desert in Wadi Rum.
Walking all over Petra and seeing the Treasury and the Library first hand; doing a self-guided tour following the stations of the cross in Israel and having a tour inside the Wailing Wall...all of these experiences and more made the trip memorable and exciting for them.
2) It makes you challenge yourself too
Yes, yes, even just hanging around with your parents can sometimes be challenging and that is before anyone has even mentioned Brexit, Reform or Trump, but that isn’t what I am getting at here.
Our Jordan and Israel trip wouldn't have been possible if my sister hadn't taken it upon herself to hire a car and drive the whole route, despite the fact that she actually hates driving.
However, she hates driving a bit less than my dad who absolutely loathes it and drives in a way that makes you think you will need a hip replacement by the end of the journey.
Ready to go!
If she had asked my dad to drive with one of us navigating, the whole trip would have ended up being a lot more stressful with my dad:
a) Hating the driving.
b) Hating driving in a foreign country.
c) Being mightily impatient.
Imagine the following scenario:
Me: "Okay, in about two miles you have to turn left"
My dad (speaking in Sinhala): "Dhang de? Dhang de?" ("Is it now? Is it now?")
Me: "No... I will TELL you when it is coming up."
My dad: "Left dhe? Dhang left dhe?" ("Is it left? Now is it left?")
Etc etc. For those of you who would argue that he could just use a sat nav which would solve all the arguments in this area...well he would have to actually understand how to follow a sat nav first.
My parents enjoying the views on the route.
Instead, my sister drove and whilst she found it stressful, the challenge of it has enabled her to drive in other countries including the US.
She also appointed me as her navigator which was a challenge for me as I was unwell with giardia (you can imagine sharing a car with me and the meaty odour that surrounded me must have been fun) but I knew that my dad navigating would give my sister an aneurysm.
We were also attempting to navigate with GPS only — eSIMs weren’t really around yet and we hadn’t bought an actual SIM card. Schoolboy error.
I might smell meaty but I am a great navigator.
Sheep on the road on the way to Jordan.
At one point all our electronic devices ran out of battery so we were guessing the route. It didn't help that the road signs also didn't tell you what route to take until the very last minute (I am looking at you here Israel. What the hell?).
But despite a car breakdown shortly after entering Israel, having to drive the-way-too-windy Dead Sea road in the dark and not much of a map to follow once all our batteries died, we all arrived in one piece. And with extra skillz.
3) You get to watch them experience new things and it is both hilarious and amazing at the same time
If you asked my mum out of the blue whether she would like to climb a sand dune or lean over the edge of a very high waterfall, she would probably think about it and then say no.
This is, after all, the same lady who turned down a free massage at a hotel in Cambodia with a grossed-out look and the comment "Mata monna massage dhe?" Loosely translated as "Why the hell would I need a massage?". Because...well, it is relaxing?
I think she thought there was something pervy about it. I have yet to explain that I don’t think she is the type of massage client who is looking for a “happy ending” kind of massage.
My mum: “Do I look like I need a massage?”
Also my mum - getting a ‘closer look’ at Victoria Falls in Zimbabwe. Now I know where I get it from!
But the thing is, my mum has an adventurous spirit. She just needs a little encouragement and then she is pretty much down for anything. Which is why travelling with her can be brilliant.
Be photographed whilst looking very excited outside a shop in Austria selling risque lingerie? Done! Eat street-side appam in Malaysia? Done! Although I did moan about how 'Westernised' both my parents have become when they started worrying about hygiene.
My mum looking way too excited outside a lingerie shop in Austria.
Trying out sandboarding in Wadi Rum in Jordan at the ripe-old-age of 70.
Climb into the back of a flatbed truck and head down a very bumpy dirt road in the middle of the Zambian bush, sit around and watch a play while drinking a warm maize-based drink you can also chew? Done!
Use a really filthy toilet and then make it even filthier by peeing near the door instead of actually in the hole (whilst retching loudly the whole time)? Done!
Climbing sand dunes aren't really easy for anyone — I am discounting all you super-fit muscle beasts out there — and watching my mum climb up one in the Wadi Rum desert in Jordan while yelling "We are emerging...like creatures out of the forest!" is one of my most memorable moments of that trip.
4) It’s a good kind of role reversal: you can finally plan a trip your way (whilst also making sure that it is something that they will enjoy)
Finally, you are in charge! Time to book your parents on that sky diving trip that they never wanted and then push them out of the plane yelling "BYEEEEEE!".
I am just kidding of course.
But seriously, you are now at an age where (most) parents would be willing to sit back, chillax and let you take the lead (unless of course you have proven yourself to be notoriously unreliable and your idea of taking your parents on a holiday is a tour of all the Ping Pong shows in Phuket).
At the edge of the Victoria Falls on Livingstone Island in Zambia.
The Rents admiring the Victoria Falls from a distance.
I am not gonna lie: this is a bit of added responsibility and stress (especially if your dad is really annoying, like mine is). You have to plan an itinerary, sort out hotel bookings and transport and think about dining places to make sure everyone is suitably fed and watered...
Okay perhaps this doesn't sound like much fun, but it also means that you can control the kind of trip that you have as you are in the driving seat. So if you want to schedule in an afternoon nap every day of your two week holiday, you can do it!
This also leads back to points 1 and 3: you being in charge of planning and organising a trip also means that your parents will get to go to new places that they would never otherwise consider and experience totally new things. And together you will create memories that will last a lifetime.
Getting up close an personal with the King of the Jungle (yes this phrase makes no sense) in Zambia.
My mum looks so excited here!
Your parents will usually be willing to give everything a go anyway, because they trust your judgement. This is basically me giving you permission to go ahead and book your table at Tokyo’'s Robot Restaurant and make your parents wonder if you spiked them with LSD.
Of course, there will be some parents out there who just want to complain about everything, are control freaks, want to eat the same food all the time, don't trust your judgement and nitpick at everything.
In that case, leave them at home and go on holiday by yourself because it sounds to me like you need a break.
5) You can get a new perspective on a place
Visiting a place that your parents might have visited or worked in a long time ago can make you see somewhere with new eyes.
In a way, your parents are like living history — sorry to make you feel old guys.
A mere trip to London with my mum has her telling us about where she would get her slick 1970s batik threads in Carnaby Street and the department stores they used to visit — Bourne and Hollingworth, Dickens and Jones (nope I’ve never heard of them either) — before the city became the playground of billionaires and the high street wasn’t...f**ked basically.
According to my mum, London was cheaper and less crowded — I can barely imagine it!
Always ready to pose!
I love the leg up on the tree!
A long drive anywhere with my dad (though these are mercifully few and far between now and boy do my joints thank me for it) almost always has him talking about the stretches of motorway he helped to build.
(If you were wondering this includes the M62 near Huddersfield; M25/M23 interchange in Merstham in Surrey; the M5 from Puriton to Taunton in Somerset, plus many more road jobs).
The latter job in Somerset makes my dad particularly nostalgic, as he reminisces about drinking Somerset apple cider (aka “scrumpy”), which was apparently the only drink impoverished engineers like him could afford.
Years later he’s being a full on playa and having cocktails at the Royal Livingstone Hotel in Zambia.
Oh and playing skittles, which I have only just learned is not the same as bowling and also nothing to do with the chocolate of the same name. Oh the pursuits of the 30-somethings were so innocent in those days weren’t they? Imagine if they’d had Tinder?
Anyway, what I am basically trying to say is something like British motorways — that might be mind-numbingly boring to someone else — are now much more interesting to me, because I know the history of my dad working on some of them.
When we visited Sri Lanka in 2016, my dad told me to make sure that I visited the Nine Arch Bridge in Ella (now a completely Insta-famous location) and the Demodara railway circle.
The Nine Arch Bridge in Sri Lanka.
But he didn’t tell me this because he thought I might want to pose in front of it in a pretty dress and gush about the best times to take a photograph there.
(As a side note, my dad did try to get on the ‘Gram once but started to worry about the app having access to his photos, panicked and deleted his account. Not that he was going to post anything, just lurk about as usual).
No, it turned out that my dad went to a boarding school (posh eh?) near the Nine Arch Bridge for nearly ten years and all his school trips, hikes and even scouting excursions had him visiting the bridge, the tunnels and railway lines around.
With Sri Lanka being a former British colony, my dad was mostly taught by British teachers who would also regale him with stories about how the bridge and the Demodara ‘loop’ were constructed.
The Demodara Railway Loop.
If you are wondering “what the hell is so damn special about a bridge and a railway line?”, here’s a little summary of two of Sri Lanka’s engineering marvels. Skip if all things train-related bores you.
The Nine Arch Bridge is one of the best examples of colonial-era engineering in Sri Lanka. Completed in 1921, legend has it that construction work on the bridge coincided with the beginning of the First World War.
The steel that had originally been assigned to the project was subsequently reallocated to Britain’s war effort and construction work came to a standstill.
Locals eventually built the bridge using only stone bricks and cement — making this an unusual bridge structure where no steel (or any other kind of metal) was used.
The Demodara Railway Circle opened in 1923 and according to Sri Lankan folklore was apparently inspired by...a turban!
Yep, you’ve read that correctly. Railway engineers and surveyors were attempting to extend the line from Demodara to Badulla, but ran into an issue: the slopes of Demodara’s hills were too steep for the tracks to be laid.
The solution to this confounding problem came in the form of engineer Devapura Jayasena Wimalasurendra, who, inspired by seeing a tea estate supervisor undo and retie his turban, suggested that the tracks could be built in the same way that the turban was tied around the tea supervisor’s head.
And so the world’s most unique spiral loop was born: it was designed so that the rail line passes under itself, going around in a loop and coming out from a tunnel, which runs directly beneath Demodara Railway Station.
Apparently it is the only railway loop in the world that has a railway station located exactly over a tunnel at spiral loop.
And thus ends the geekery for this post.
For me, the experience of visiting this place was therefore about so much more than just taking a pretty photo.
It was about finally seeing a place where my dad had spent much of his formative years and beginning to understand how his early wonderment at Sri Lanka’s feats of engineering might have inspired him to become an engineer.
(Although there was a point where it seemed like he would end up being nothing but an exam-failing, pot-smoking, wedding-crashing waster, but what can I say? The man was a late bloomer.)
In a way, I kind of wished that he could have been there, like a septuagenarian tour guide, showing me his old haunts.
But then it occurred to me that the tour might have been something like this. And who needs that?
In the same vein, I couldn’t visit Kandy and not take Vincent for pattis and cutlets at the Bakehouse Cafe. But wait, I hear you cry, can’t you get these delicious shorteats pretty much anywhere in Kandy or in Sri Lanka for that matter?
Well, yes. However, the reason we decided to go to this cafe in particular was because it was one of my mum’s regular haunts, over 60 years ago.
It turns out that teenage Ramyawo was a cafe connoisseur, flitting between the places to be seen in Kandy: from the Bakehouse, to the Silverdale, Devon and Green cafes, she had visited them alI.
Vincent enjoying a plate of shorteats at the Bakehouse in Kandy.
Apparently, it was a regular Saturday afternoon treat — after a day of shopping, my mum and her family would go to the Bakehouse where they would order mutton rolls, egg rotti, pattis and cutlets, all finished off with vanilla tea and sugar. How fancy!
I loved the idea of visiting the same cafes, as they now had a kind of idiosyncratic history for me. Looking around at the other tables I tried to imagine my mum chatting away with her family as they partook in a very Sri Lankan version of afternoon tea.
It also dawned on me then that my own love for cafes and ‘whiling away the time’ in them was quite possibly...genetic.
6) You don’t know how things may change in the future
This post has been pretty light hearted and funny throughout (well I think so anyway) but sadly at the very end I have to get real with you. (Or ‘no cap’ as Gen Z’ers would say and which I really don’t get and am not sure I am even using correctly cos I am f**king old).
I actually wrote this article in January 2020 and since then a lot has changed for our family. My mum’s health deteriorated during Covid, proving that even if you never actually catch that bloody virus you still won’t be able to escape unscathed.
Staying at home during the lockdowns and not moving very much resulted in my mum developing scoliosis which has progressively got worse. It has significantly impacted her ability to move and totally sapped her strength and mobility.
Family selfie on a train from Budapest to Krakow in 2023.
But even more devastatingly, my mum was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s in 2023. Those of you who know will understand that it’s an incredibly cruel disease.
That’s why if you have the chance, I’d recommend travelling with your parents when they are younger, healthier and more mobile. Even if they are super annoying.
Of course having elderly and/or disabled parents doesn’t mean that you can’t travel. It’s just much harder and requires a bit more planning.
(And also if your dad is like mine and is constantly catastrophising — what he likes to refer to as ‘anticipating problems’ — it will of course be much more stressful.)
Travelling with ageing and disabled parents
Saying all this, my parents managed to travel independently to visit us in Istanbul in 2021 and 2022.
In 2021 we made a trip to Ortaköy so they could try kümpir, Turkey’s pimped up jacket potato. We also visited the Princes’ Islands where my mum actually RAN AWAY when we asked her if she wanted to dress up in Ottoman garb. And, we ate many MANY Turkish breakfasts.
Excited about the Turkish breakfast spread at Sureya Kahvaltı in Istanbul.
My family demonstrating all the ways you can apparently wear a Covid mask in the Princes’ Islands.
Enjoying kumpir in Ortaköy.
In 2022 we finally visited Galata Tower together and with Vincent’s help, my mum climbed the stairs (which I really wanted her to be able to do) all the way to the panoramic deck!
That year I got my mum to help me decorate my Christmas tree — it was a nice thing to do together as I usually spend Christmas in Istanbul. She also got her yearly haircut with my Istanbul hairdresser, who is a bonafide legend.
She did it!
Celebratory family selfie at the top of the Galata Tower in Istanbul.
In spring 2023 my sister organised a family trip to Krakow and Budapest (with a train in between) and some additional luggage — a wheelchair.
The trip definitely gave Vincent, my sister and I more than a few new grey hairs — mainly because my dad is impatient and absolutely incapable of listening to instructions. He’s also going deaf and so shouts “Who? Who? Who?” in response to anything you say, like a blasted owl.
(There was a moment where I contemplated pushing him into the Danube so we could get a break, but my sister reminded me that despite being mega old, he’s a really strong swimmer. If you’re offended by imagined patricide and have got to this part, I am sorry).
However, during that trip they got to tick off some historical places they’d always wanted to visit like Auschwitz and Birkenau and my mum climbed the stairs up to Fisherman’s Bastion in Budapest, which was no easy feat.
Hello…are you really annoying too?
My mum posing at Fisherman’s Bastion in Budapest.
Getting by with a little help from her friends…or rather her son-in-law.
Later that summer my parents visited Istanbul again, for a more sedate trip and with a bit more luggage — a wheelchair and a walker this time.
This was a more chilled vacation with games of Scrabble in their flat on hot days, horror movie nights, visits to local cafes and markets and a trip to Istanbul’s Asian Side.
There was also plenty of time for old people naps, which I duly photographed.
The highlight on that visit for my mum was meeting our favourite local stray cats (two of whom lived in her apartment building). The cats definitely made a huge impression on her as she still remembers them, despite her Alzheimer’s progressing.
Playing team Scrabble.
With our OG Istanbul cat, Fat Puss.
2023 was the last year my parents travelled independently. In 2025 they visited us accompanied by my sister and we basically spent a lot of time hanging out in their flat and going to the park to play with cats.
We took the ferry to the Asian side (Vincent and I mapped out the logistics beforehand as Istanbul isn’t that disabled-friendly) for…crumpets. Yes we really are that British. And my mum celebrated her 81st birthday with a huge Turkish breakfast.
We took my mum to see Final Destination: Bloodlines (she loves horror movies). At the end of the film she turned around to us and said “Is that what you call a film?’. LOL.
Celebrating her 81st birthday at Ceşme Bazlama Kahvaltı in Istanbul.
And showing that she still knows how to pose.
We also organised for the owner of a local cafe to hold a private ceramic workshop for my mum, my sister and I. It was really cool to get my mum to do something new — she loved the experience and still remembers it.
I sometimes look back and feel sad that just over 10 years ago, my parents were climbing sand dunes in Jordan and exploring the Mossy Forest in the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. And 15 years ago they were wandering around Zambia and Zimbabwe with us.
And then I try to reframe it and think that they were so lucky that they got to do all that stuff (with us being the supporting act) when they could. The stress was absolutely worth it…I think.
And that's a wrap!
So have I convinced you? If the idea of spending precious holiday time with your parents has made you break out in a rash, then perhaps not. But for the rest of you I would say, give it a chance, because the experience could be truly marvellous.
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