When you think of holidays with children, do you feel excited — or does it keep you awake at night?
When our children were four and six, we locked the door of our home, put the key in our pocket, and left.
We came back one year later.
I once came across a sentence that said: “You don’t really go on holiday with children; parents simply end up babysitting in different places and countries.”
When the words children and holiday come together, a familiar list of worries quickly appears: illness, sleepless nights, food issues, boredom, tantrums…
and the list goes on.
But what if it doesn’t turn out that way?
What if they don’t get sick — and no matter how old they are, their horizons widen?
What if you are finally able to enjoy being a couple again, or spending meaningful time with friends?
Let’s be realistic.
What if both happen?
A little grumpiness, a little joy, and a lot of new experiences.
There’s a well-known saying: “If you want to know someone, go on holiday with them.”
What if travel gives you the chance to understand each other — and your family system — more deeply?
Even if you stay at home, minor tensions, small discomforts and endless games are already part of life.
Staying home doesn’t free us from them; what matters is knowing how to respond.
Now imagine knowing this in advance while travelling.
Knowing where to go if your child becomes unwell.
Having a small, personalised first-aid kit with you — whether that’s fever relief, a healing cream, or a homeopathy kit (a gentle and effective first response, which I’ll write more about in future pieces).
Knowing what to do in an emergency, where to go, and what you can do with children.
How would that feel?
Safer?
In Australia, when my son was six, he was looking out of the car window.
Suddenly he turned to his sibling and asked excitedly,
“Did you see the kangaroos?”
Before the other one could say, “Where? I didn’t see them,” we had already driven past.
“I didn’t see them,” came the answer.
My son paused and said something I’ve never forgotten:
“You have to look straight away. Otherwise, everything — just like life — passes by in a second.”
Mornings in the caravan felt the same.
Waking up every day with the excitement of asking, “What will I see from my window today?”
It’s a feeling we’ve never experienced anywhere else.
As we travelled, the children took responsibility.
Each had their own small suitcase, fully their own responsibility.
Yes — even four- and six-year-olds can take ownership of their experiences when given clarity and trust.
Like every journey, there were moments when we stopped and said, “This is wonderful,”
and others when we thought, “What are we doing here? We could be at home, warm and comfortable.”
But now, looking at the bigger picture, this journey sits high on my list of life’s “I’m so glad we did this” moments.
Not just for the children — for us as adults too, it became a powerful space for connection and awareness.
Living as four people in a 15-square-metre caravan made us realise that even our 200-square-metre home had never truly felt big enough.
I also discovered that my husband and I knew poems by the same poet — both by heart — without ever having realised it before.
We lived the true meaning of connection before correction.
Because life so often keeps us stuck in correction, forgetting connection.
Australian Aboriginal culture, the underwater world of the Philippines, the Tasmanian devil, the back streets of Dubai, swimming in a lake in Canada, bays where sharks really can appear, and the endless green of Scotland —
these places remain vivid and real in our children’s memories.
A holiday is, in many ways, a space to reconnect with ourselves and to review the bonds we’ve created.
When you step physically outside your comfort zone, your mind and soul eventually follow.
And that is when real connection begins.
Not with nature, not only with your family or the country you’re in —
but with yourself.
The most valuable connection of all.
When it comes to health, researching in advance and creating your own map has never been easier.
I’m not saying everyone should pack up their children and hit the road.
But in a way that suits your life, it is always possible.
So now, let me ask you:
If you were to do one thing differently — what would it be?
by Hatice Özalp
