First Milestones: Camping at Imbil State Forest

Forget the usual childhood milestones like starting solids or learning to crawl or even baby's first word. Really, they're pretty average. I mean appropriate childhood development aside, aren't there more exciting milestones to mention than a first solid poo? What about the first hike or the first camping trip?

I've always proudly boasted that I've been camping since before I could even walk, which in itself is an achievement since I started that activity pretty early too. If you'd asked I would have said that this proud moment in my life took place when I was just 6 months old.

Unfortunately I recently did the maths, to discover that I was probably a little older. While everyone may think their parents are a little crazy, I don't think mine would have taken their baby camping in the dead of winter. In fact, I'm disappointed to say that walking probably came first.

Well at least now one member of the family can boast to going camping before, most of the usual mobility milestones. Our niece Ava was undoubtedly excited all week about spending her first night under coated polyester. 

Refreshed after a nice two hour nap on the way up to Kenilworth, she greeted us and the gum trees with big smiles before needing to eat. Post morning tea-time entertainment was watching us struggle to set up our big tent - the Taj Mahal - before piling out immense amounts of camping gear out of the car for our one night away. And people say kids need a lot of stuff!

Next on the baby schedule (between a nappy change and lunch) was a walk through the rainforest. From the comfort of the baby backpack hoisted on her tall dad's shoulders she had a great view of sunshine filtering through the tall palm trees. Even though it was cool, the air in the rainforest was heavy and humid.

While napping in her pram after lunch, she went for another walk, this time up Sunday Creek Road past trees that seemed full of bellbirds. It was quite a climb up the winding road to the lookout and her dad and uncle took turns pushing the stroller along the dirt road. Just in time she woke to look at the view into the valley which was awash with sunlight.

As the sun set and it got cool, the benefit of her immobility became clear. Rugged up in a fleecy jumpsuit and happy to regularly change her vantage point, her warm snuggles kept everyone warm while her aunt battled to get the campfire going.

After just a couple of moans and groans through the night, she was awake and ready for action at 6am. According to Australian lore, seeing a black cockatoo is supposed to signify the number of days until rain. The day before they were everywhere in the campsite, which should have meant rain was far off. But apparently either the cockatoos or us got it wrong, as that morning it started to drizzle.

While we tried to feed her breakfast in the tent, Ava looked exactly like every camper does when it starts to rain - bored and miserable. She clearly much preferred to be outside with the bush turkeys. Luckily it didn't last long so she still got to go hunting for two caches and watch all the kids playing in the park at Kenilworth while we ate ice cream and bought yoghurt from the cheese factory. After good nap on the way home, she was in great mood. In fact, I think she enjoyed the trip so much, 'camping' just might be her first word!

 How old were you when you first went camping? Do you remember it? Had any child related camping disasters?

A European Christmas

There's only so much you can fit into a backpack and after travelling for two weeks with someone, you get to know the wearable contents of their pack pretty well. So as we casually scanned the people waiting outside of the 'arrivals' gate at Frankfurt airport, we almost didn't recognise Sebastian who'd arrived the previous day.

A snow storm was predicted for the following day, so the airport authorities had set out temporary beds in preparation for stranded passengers.

 Europe had been an after thought really. Our return flights either required a trip home via the US or Europe and so we'd decided to spend a white Christmas with my family in Poland. But along the way we'd made new friends who invited us to visit 'next time we were in Germany'. And so on a snowy afternoon in December we were welcomed back to Europe for one of the friendliest months ever.

Heidelberg couldn't have been more pretty that first afternoon we spent walking around while waiting for my cousin and her partner to finish work. After traipsing the broken footpaths and deteriorating buildings of Chile and Argentina, Heidelberg seemed like a perfect fairy tale town. With a soft layer of fresh snow on the ground the locals seemed to be enjoying the Christmas lights and markets almost as much as we were.

After two days of wandering the streets, staying up far too late and hanging out in Heidelberg we headed south to Tübingen where we did pretty much the same.

But in Tübingen, bum sliding was also involved. This time, we tried plastic bags filled with snow while the locals with real sleds looked on with pity. Compared to our attempts just on jackets, this method was really fast. But added speed made it virtually uncontrollable and by the bottom of the hill, the plastic bags had usually ripped open caking us in snow. Add a few rolls in there before we'd stop and there was snow...everywhere. 

On route to Poland, we swung by Prague to compare Christmas markets and mulled wine.

And then did the same in Krakow the following morning.

Jeff's first white Christmas with my Polish family was a blur of divine food, relatives, hot chocolate in our favourite cafe, skiing right in town, markets and a tense wait for the birth of our niece or nephew back home.

The New Year was rung in with family friends on the snowy top of a hill in the Gorce mountain range.

During the few days we spent with them, we tried exploring in the nearby national park, but knee deep snow prevented us from going very far. So bum sliding it was, this time on a flying saucer type sled which was by far the most successful method.

During the couple of days we'd spent in Gorce, we'd seen horses pulling sleds on the road in front of the house. I'd always dreamed of dashing through the snow on a one horse open sleigh and on the first day of this year, my dream came true thanks to our friends.

With one week left of our trip, we returned to Germany to visit friends, soak up just a touch of history and enjoy our last days of a white winter.

Home, it turns out, would greet us with a flood that Brisbane was never supposed to have.

The river in Frankfurt had also busted it's banks that day

So that's finally it - the whole grand 3.5 month adventure. I must confess I've actually enjoyed blogging more since we've been back than on the road and so I plan to post new updates even when our next travels take us much, much closer to home. And as always, we're dreaming of the next adventure.