My Little Traveler (with pride)

I was warned that when I started dragging Ellie around the international scene when she was seven months old that she wouldn't necessarily learn anything or suddenly get a shot of culture. True enough. However, something that the travel did in starting at such a young age was to groom her for an excellent traveler when she was old enough to care and understand. I say this with a certain amount of pride with how wonderful she handled the London trip last night. At six years old, she is now a helpful traveler who understands context and what not to do. Granted I got some grey hairs with some earlier travels, such as the time when she was three years old and shot across the six lane road at Kings Cross Station with no warning; an experience that resulted in weeks of nightmares. There was one flight to Boston where she screamed the entire way when she was a little over one years old. We have no idea what was up with that. One flight from Rome to Malta involved much crying, but that was frankly due to teething and the steward constantly forcing her to be sitting in a position that did not allow her to sleep. At seven months. Seriously? I was grateful that the passengers took their wrath out on the stupid steward. My parents have reported a flight where orange juice got on her socks, something that must never occur with an OCD two year old, but apparently it was resolved quickly. I hope. I didn't inquire deeply.

However, we have all survived those first five years; and regardless, her statistics for good traveling are high. For this trip, she managed the seven hour overnight flight with no battles, 25 stop underground trip, and then bus while being responsible for her own luggage and keeping an eye out for appropriate stations, bus numbers, and finally, stalking down the flat number with a certain urgency. I took it for granted until I realised, halfway through our 25 stop Underground trip across the majority of the Picadilly line, that she was clasping her hands in her lap staring carefully at the maps the whole time, occasionally asking for an update.

Clasping hands and map staring in the reflection.

So she's definitely earned her toy shoppe visits to Hamley's and Harrod's, and I'm just a wee bit proud of our decision to make her a global child. I showed her the GPS street view of Hamley's Toy Shoppe, which she has declared a priority for tomorrow. Her response?

"Now THAT is what I call Hamley's!"