Multi-generational holidays are apparently one of the
biggest growth sectors in the travel industry. I can't really see the appeal of
travelling with extended family. Too many people to involve in the detail of
eating, sleeping, travelling and days out. However we tried it on a small scale
by eliminating women from our trip, and it was so much fun that we repeated it
twice more.
The formula was simple, I would drive with to my parents home with all the children, swap my daughter for my father, and carry on the journey into the Peak District. We rented a marvellous B&B in the turret of a house close to Edale, with a room on each of the 4 floors - one for the men, one for the boys, one sitting room, and one dining room. Wholesome English breakfasts were thus sorted, with the landlord additionally making enormous packed lunches for our daily striding over the mountains.
Grandad time is marvellous for boys of any age, even with me in the party. We trekked over Mam Tor in the early evening, seeing the where the road had plunged down the hill with a few cottages, killing the occupants. As darkness and mist descended, my father terrified the boys with the ghost stories of the victims, and those that had met the ghosts when lost on the hillside. We staggered on through the mist.....
Next day was rather clearer, and seemed ideal to tackle Jacobs Ladder and cross the bizarre peaty landscape of Kinder Scout. I was expecting Jacobs Ladder to be a hearty climb for all of us, but small boys have infinite energy of course. They kindly carried our bags up the steps at quite a pace, waiting smugly for the old men at the top. The enormous lunch then vanished inside us as we looked down on Manchester. For reasons not entirely clear, boys listen to Grandfather's telling of the great Kinder Scout Trespass above my more interesting stories, and on that stunningly clear afternoon you could see what a marvellous day out that must have been.
Then it's compass time across the featureless landscape at the top of Kinder Scout. The peat bogs sucked down the heavier amongst us, while my youngest son seemed to float confidently over the top.... until he didn't, and sank down like the rest of us. Eventually we could see down into the valley of Edale again, and carefully descended the steeper side of the mountain, not terrifically aided by bifocal lenses. A magnificent pub dinner topped off the day.
The formula was simple, I would drive with to my parents home with all the children, swap my daughter for my father, and carry on the journey into the Peak District. We rented a marvellous B&B in the turret of a house close to Edale, with a room on each of the 4 floors - one for the men, one for the boys, one sitting room, and one dining room. Wholesome English breakfasts were thus sorted, with the landlord additionally making enormous packed lunches for our daily striding over the mountains.
Grandad time is marvellous for boys of any age, even with me in the party. We trekked over Mam Tor in the early evening, seeing the where the road had plunged down the hill with a few cottages, killing the occupants. As darkness and mist descended, my father terrified the boys with the ghost stories of the victims, and those that had met the ghosts when lost on the hillside. We staggered on through the mist.....
Next day was rather clearer, and seemed ideal to tackle Jacobs Ladder and cross the bizarre peaty landscape of Kinder Scout. I was expecting Jacobs Ladder to be a hearty climb for all of us, but small boys have infinite energy of course. They kindly carried our bags up the steps at quite a pace, waiting smugly for the old men at the top. The enormous lunch then vanished inside us as we looked down on Manchester. For reasons not entirely clear, boys listen to Grandfather's telling of the great Kinder Scout Trespass above my more interesting stories, and on that stunningly clear afternoon you could see what a marvellous day out that must have been.
Then it's compass time across the featureless landscape at the top of Kinder Scout. The peat bogs sucked down the heavier amongst us, while my youngest son seemed to float confidently over the top.... until he didn't, and sank down like the rest of us. Eventually we could see down into the valley of Edale again, and carefully descended the steeper side of the mountain, not terrifically aided by bifocal lenses. A magnificent pub dinner topped off the day.
And so it continued over the next few days - another day - another mountain - and another view of the others side. We looked down on the beautiful views above the forest across Derwentwater, another opportunity for a Grandad story, this time about the Dambusters. We strode along Stanage Edge viewing the spectacular views of the valley below. We ate very well, 3 times a day. We played wholesome board games in the evening, like scrabble, draughts, and monopoly. We had lots of fresh air, and we all slept very very well!
Most of all though, we talked to each other. We learnt lots about each other and from each other, solving most of the world's problems. This is the positive of a multi-generational holiday, it was a lovely celebration of each other's company.
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