The journey from New Hampshire to England started around 3:30pm East Coast time a week ago Tuesday as we headed for the bus that would take us to Boston’s Logan airport. After bus, plane and multiple train trips over the next 14 hours with little sleep, the simple question of “What would you like to eat?” was too overwhelming for the girls. Wayne and I, in our own tired crankiness, tagged-teamed their meltdowns between Victoria and Liverpool Street stations, managing backpack frustration and tears from phantom finger pain. Once we were finally on the train out of London towards Clacton-on-Sea, where we’d stay for the week with Wayne’s family, the girls were able to spread out and nap.
Solid sleep has been somewhat evasive for us over these past 17 days, with time zone changes, different foods and environments, and too much on the brain thinking ahead about our next stop and how we’ll get there. The fact that up to today everything has been in English and pretty familiar given we’ve been visiting family is also on our minds. So as we move on to France (post-World Cup victory celebration thank goodness), we’ll remind ourselves to go slow, pause for deep breaths and naps when needed, and lean on each other.