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By the time you read this, I’ll have already embarked on a family Road Trip, and the first as a family of four.

It won’t be the longest trip we’ve ever done by a long stretch; in fact, I’ve done this particular drive so many times, it’s one of the few routes I can drive without my Sat-Nav on (although I still will turn it on, because I’m one of those people who can’t focus without a magic blue line to follow).

But even with this being a well-travelled route for me—and at just under two hours, far shorter than some of the great American Road trips my readers across the ocean will be well-used to—as parents, we all know that any time you embark on a road trip with the kids in tow, anything can happen.

We’ve got things planned out as well as we can. We’ve got mess-free colouring books, re-useable stickers, fidgety toys and—when all those inevitably fail—the tablet with plenty of episodes of Bluey and Hey Duggee downloaded to last a car journey to Astana and back.

The crusts are cut off the sandwiches and sliced into the preferred triangle format, the snacks are packed in their tupperware boxes, and the drinks bottles are already filled. For our eldest, we feel as well prepared as possible. She’ll go to nursery school in the morning, we’ll use that quiet time to pack the car up, and we’ll be on the road as soon as we collect her at midday.

What could go wrong?

Well, this time we have a 8-week-old baby on board as well.

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In theory, her needs are far simpler to contend with. She’ll be fed before she goes in the car seat, complete with a freshly changed nappy. If she needs a sleep, we’ve got a white noise machine next to her car seat, ready to fire up at the hint of any fractious mewling.

But there’s always the potential for something unexpected to happen when they’re that little. A shit volcano leaking out of all sides, a torrent of motion-induced vomit…who knows what surprises lay in wait?

Maybe I’m catastrophising—perhaps it will all go exactly to plan. In fact, maybe it’ll be one of those classic road trips that my eldest daughter will remember forever. I still remember doing the exact same trip as a boy, when for some reason we listened to ABBA Gold the entire way (I thought I had an ABBA pun on the tip of my tongue here, but it kept Slipping Through My Fingers1 ). Perhaps I’ll stick on the set list for Taylor Swift’s Eras Tour2. Or maybe, as our daughter is wont to doing—she’ll ask to listen to Yellow Submarine on repeat the whole way, with the album art from Revolver visible on the car’s information screen so she can see the “little blokes”.

I’ll tell you what we’ll do: I’m writing this the day before we leave on this trip. I’m going to write the rest of this post once the road trip has finished. We’ll find out together just exactly how it all goes. Will it be a complete success, or unmitigated disaster? Let’s jump forward in time and find out!

Welcome to the future! You’ve jumped forward about 18 hours. Bit underwhelming, I know. But I can tell you just how the road trip went down.

The three hours that our eldest was in nursery for was very productive as we’d hoped—all the remainder of our packing got done well in time, and I brought all of my Tetris skills to bear to pack a pram, carry cot, three suitcases, two bags of non-perishable foods and a deflated yoga ball3.

I took the car to pick her up whilst my wife fed the baby. There was only a minor delay as we got the last of the stuff in the car, double and triple checked the doors were locked4, ate a bit of our sandwiches before pulling off the driveway and—no wait, check the other car’s locked. Yep, locked. Right, away we go!

Our first stoppage comes barely three minutes in—you can still see the housing development where we live from the roadside as I slam on the hazard lights5 to correct some technical difficulties I was having with my car’s sat nav and my daughter’s tablet (on which she insisted on watching this 24-hour 100% play-through of Super Mario Odyssey6. No problem though, we’re on the road again pretty soon.

For about five minutes.

Stop number two takes place in a small village just up the road; the motorway is tantalisingly close, but alas I pull over in a bus stop to jettison the packaging of a pasta pot I picked up for my wife from the local Co-op on the way back from the nursery pick-up. Oh, and my daughter and wife wanted some crisps from one of the bags of food which were, thanks to my expert luggage-packing skills, fairly accessible.

We did make it to the motorway before our next stop was necessary—our first and only toilet stop of the near-two-hour journey. It occurred about half way through the journey in total; our travel potty was utilised to full effect. Thankfully the cry of “I need the potty” came near an exit ramp, so a cheeky stop on the hard shoulder wasn’t required.

Both the girls slept pretty much the rest of the way there from that point; it made for an eerily quiet journey, punctuated briefly by some silent dance moves from my wife who was putting the wireless headphones she’d bought for labour7 to full effect.

We make it to the small coastal town were staying in, and I have to drive through the narrow cobbles streets, littered with tourists, to get to our accommodation. Of course, reversing into the driveway in such confined conditions requires all of my concentration. So of course, both kids decide that now is the time to wake up and start screaming and crying.

But the manoeuvre gets completed. I haul the bags up the stairs and we’re here at least. Another successful Family Road Trip in the history books!

Alright, maybe this wasn’t the one road trip that the kids are going to remember forever—certainly not the baby, at least. I think in the buildup to going away for the first time as a family of four, I’ve been thinking of what kind of childhood memories my kids are going to be left with when they’re done being kids. I might not have loads myself, but the ones I do have? They’re golden.

This past eight weeks with our second daughter has gone by in an instant. Like, I know people say it goes by fast—and I experienced that with our first—but this has gone by SO fast. The ticking of the clock is getting louder. It’ll be a moment before they’re in the world under their own steam.

But whilst seeking to create memories with your family and make the most of the time you have is all well and good, I think we can get too carried away with it as well. So often, I’ve been behind the camera (or phone, in most cases) peering at some of life’s golden moments through pixels on a screen, rather than with my own two eyes.

For now, I'm trying to find a balance. I’ll do my best to make the conditions and atmosphere around the family loving and secure, and as fertile for great childhood experiences as possible.

But after that? The best moments, the real ones that last a lifetime, aren’t conjured or bought. We don’t find them—they find us.

Where are you off over the summer?

Summertime is here, and families across the world are gearing up to spend some of their well-earned time away from work parenting their kids in a different location than usual. Do you have any summer travel plans, and what travel hacks are you employing to make the process as pain-free as possible?

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