Kids-eye View
A holiday isn’t just a holiday when kids are along for the journey. Four travel writers share a personal moment that made them stop and see the world from their children’s perspective.
Happy as a Quokka
WORDS Emma Shaw
Macey’s excitement for Rottnest Island (Wadjemup) started before we even arrived – her favourite book at home features a quokka. She was “ooh-ing” and stomping her little feet with eagerness to get on board the ferry to take us from Perth (Boorloo) to Rottnest. That excitement never waned the whole time we were on the island.
As an adult, the first time I visited Rottnest, I couldn’t wait to see my first quokka and to get the iconic smiling photo. But as you stay longer and you see more of them, they become a little less interesting. Not when travelling with a toddler. Every single quokka is as exciting as the first. Something to stop for, watch, and squeal at with pure happiness. When Macey found a plush quokka at the general store, she was beside herself – she proudly took it everywhere with her.
Travelling with a toddler is such a unique and beautiful experience, a chance to see the world through the eyes of someone seeing it for the first time. Watching her joy and wonder as she explores new places is my favourite part. At almost one-and-a-half, Macey doesn’t say too many words, but she expresses her excitement through actions, noises and facial expressions. It often means we’re pausing to see things we would usually pass by, like pink lorikeets walking down the main street or crabs popping out of shells. We’re spending more time playing in the sand, running in and out of waves, and waving at seagulls. Things take twice as long as when we travelled pre-baby, giving us the time to really appreciate each place we visit.
“It’s the simple things that bring joy. It’s childhood, and tapping into yours.”
Rottnest Island is a wonderful – and easy – place to travel with babies and toddlers. The general store has any supplies you might need during your visit, restaurants have high chairs and kids menus on hand, there’s plenty of different food options, space for prams on the bus, and lots of family-friendly accommodation options. We made the most of the hop-on hop-off Island Explorer bus, and spent time wading, swimming and snorkelling in the crystal-clear water of Little Salmon Bay. But with a toddler, it’s the simple pleasures that light the family up. Like grabbing a well-deserved afternoon ice-cream from the Kuld Creamery vintage van at the Basin. Those moments are priceless.
Board Rottnest Express to see the world’s happiest animal up-close. Book at rottnestexpress.com.au
Summer fun at the waterpark at Rydges Resort.
The Unexpected Simple Pleasures
WORDS Ben Groundwater
The best thing to do in the Hunter Valley (Wonnarua) is visit the waterpark at Rydges Resort. It’s to gaze in awe at the big buckets and the jet-blast sprinklers that drench you the moment you set foot in there. It’s to feel the joy of hot sun on your skin and warm concrete under your feet. It’s the sheer delight of about 100 litres of water crashing down on your head. It’s even the pizza afterwards, the ham and pineapple on a chewy disc of bread, washed down with a coke.
This is a revelation to me.
Previously I’d thought the best thing in the Hunter Valley was the wine. Or at the very least, the wineries. Those establishments are the reason I drive three hours north of Sydney (Gaidgal) every few months. But this is the first time I’ve done one of those journeys in the company of a three-year-old. The first change to regular programming is that you don’t just drive three hours without a break with a three-year-old. Kids get bored, they need a toilet break, they need enjoyment. We’ve barely left Sydney before we’ve made the first stop at the Australian Reptile Park, where they have live crocodiles and alligators and a whole lot of sleepy koalas (fortunately never the twain meet).
When was the last time you paused to think about how incredibly awesome a crocodile is? It’s been a while for me. But you should see my son Angus’s face as we hold hands and peer into the enclosure that is home to Elvis, a five-metre-long saltwater croc. Elvis doesn’t move an inch the entire time we stare at him; still, this is probably the coolest thing Angus has seen in his life.
Then we continue this father-and-son journey – the first we’ve taken together as a pair – to the Hunter Valley, where we sail past several excellent cellar doors and get settled at Rydges. There’s a golf course here, and a brewery too. I won’t be going near them.
Instead, Angus and I are getting swimmers on and heading to the waterpark, where those sprinklers and hoses and the giant bucket of water await.
It’s the simple things that bring joy. It’s childhood, and tapping into yours. It’s the cold blast of a bucket of water tipped on your head; the shriek of glee that you suddenly realise was not the three-year-old’s, but your own.
Bouncing with Joy
WORDS Tess Durack
Dramatic. That’s the word that comes to mind when I think of the recent road trip around Tasmania (Lutruwita) I took with my 10-year-old son, Grady. Forbidding mountains and glistening lakes, ancient rainforests and massive surf, gusty winds and eye-watering beauty.
Even the wildlife is theatrical – Tassie devils ripping apart carcasses, snarling at each other through bloody jaws, and penguins waddling determinedly ashore in the moonlight.
So when Grady suggests we go to the East Coast Natureworld park near Bicheno I’m dismissive. Aren’t wildlife parks a bit naff? Aren’t we into the cool, real-world stuff?
“It’ll be boring, babe. And touristy,” I say.
“But we’re tourists aren’t we, mum?” I don’t have a good comeback for that.
“And mum,” he continues, eyes wide. “You can feed the kangaroos there – I saw it on the sign!”
“But you’ve seen millions of kangaroos – in the wild!” I retort.
“I know. But I love kangaroos, mum.” I relent, on the condition we leave mid-morning to tackle another bushwalk.
Clutching the bag of feed I bought him tightly in his hand, Grady is bouncing with anticipation as we wait to enter the 150-acre bushland sanctuary for rehabilitated animals and surrendered pets, all native species.
As soon as the gates open, half a dozen Forester kangaroos hop languorously toward us. The way they rest their dainty paws on our tummies and nuzzle their cold noses into our hands until we surrender the grain to them? It is nothing short of enchanting.
The long eyelashes, the tender little faces, the tiny joeys wriggling in pouches then toppling out to see what’s going on – I’m entranced. I’ve spent most of my life taking these creatures for granted. Now, thanks to Grady, it’s like I’m seeing them for the first time, in all their strange loveliness.
And Grady, my own little tender-faced joey, is beside himself with joy. It’s a joy he shares generously with other tourists in the park, handing out handfuls of grain so no one misses out on the delight of an up-close encounter.
We miss the bushwalk. Instead, I buy Grady another bag of feed and watch him make his gentle, happy way through the mob of kangaroos.
Dramatic? No. Unforgettable? Absolutely.
Opal Hunters
WORDS Meg Law
“People live underground? What the heck?” shouts my six-year-old son as we drive along the red dusty outback roads, bound for Coober Pedy (Umoona), South Australia. The opal mining capital of the world, famous for its mine shafts, lunar-like landscape, quirky history and labyrinth of underground houses, hotels and even shops, was a place we had been curious about for some time.
FROM LEFT exploring the labyrinth of underground abodes; Coober Pedy car under a blissful Milky way.
You know you’ve arrived in Coober Pedy when you catch a glimpse of the large, three-metre-high sign found above Main Street, which my ten-year-old daughter doesn’t miss: “Mum, it looks like Hollywood!” At first glance, the dusty town feels a little ‘rough around the edges’, but it doesn’t take long to realise this place is rich in storytelling, history and full of life – even if that life is mainly below ground.
Having got wind that a 14-year-old boy had found the first Coober Pedy opal in 1915, our daughter is determined to find the biggest, shiniest opal. As we head underground to get busy opal fossicking, she shouts “game on,” as she races through the mine shafts and tunnels with her brother hot on her tail, their competitive spirits alive and kicking.
With our son’s pockets full of ‘wannabe opal’, we head approximately 15 kilometres out of town to the lunar-like landscape aptly named Moon Plains. The kids’ faces light up as they pretend to walk on the moon, the soft soil sinking beneath their feet. They couldn’t care less that movies such as Mad Max and Priscilla Queen of the Desert were filmed here. Or that the vast expanse of rocky plains are so unusual that they’re not found anywhere else on Earth. What’s important to them is that we all act out Neil Armstrong’s first steps on the moon as a family. And as I hear the words “that’s one small step for man” run through my head, I’m reminded that travel is, after all, a spark for the imagination.
Allow Coober Pedy to spark your imagination while you hunt for opals on one of The Ghan Expedition’s Off Train Experiences when travelling from Darwin to Adelaide. For more information on 2024 packages, visit journeybeyondrail.com.au