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I log on to Matador ; browsing through pieces by their writers and come across an article titled, “Five travel lessons that I learned from my Dad.”
What have I learned from traveling with my parents?
FIRST FAMILY HOLIDAY
The first clear memories of travel with my parents are of a stay in a tiny hill-top town near Mumbai, called Matheran, when I was about eight years old. We stayed in an old colonial-style bungalow called Greenwood in the middle of a dense jungle. By modern standards, it would fall grievously short. No room service to roust up at one a.m. for an icecream-sundae, no housekeeping staff to regularly clear the verandah of leaves every morning and only a rusty-but- trusty water heater for hot water. But it was one of the most memorable holidays of my life. With no preconceived notions of what to expect and nothing to compare it to, I enjoyed every single minute of walking to all the must-see points, the horse-rides, the spooky walks back at night. Continue reading
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