Little boxes on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky tacky

In amongst the castle (Hever - beautiful but hopeless for children because you can't walk on the grass and Eve didn't quite understand why she couldn't - cue much toddler wrangling), palace (Eltham - stunning and a world away from Eltham's normal associations with deprivation and murders), parks (Richmond to see the ducks, deer and horses) we went to a model village at Beaconsfield. I have very fond memories of model villages. Although my parents can only recall me going to one on one of our periodic holidays to the Isle of Wight, I seem to remember going to thousands and loving them. When my brother-in-law suggested that we take the kids, and to one with a small ride-along train too, I was jumping up and down and almost wetting myself with excitement. The Boy, having had altogether more international (and expensive) holidays in his youth had never been to one and turned his nose up at the thought of such a parochial activity. Anyway, off we all trotted down the M40 to relive my youth.

If you've never been to a model village, it is hard to describe how truly escapist it is. It is like a dolls house on a huge scale with little people doing everyday things in scarily accurate replicas of houses, pubs, schools, race-courses, lakes, beaches. You name it and the model village we visited had it. There were moving cable cars, a house that would set itself on fire every 5 minutes to allow the miniature firemen to put the fire out, even an airfield (although sadly no moving planes). Eve seemed to enjoy it, I loved it and danced around getting more and more excited. My sister and I recalled the one we had visited in our youth where the cricket field came complete with streaker, and the Boy warmed to his subject incredibly and took photo after photo of the little people.

We're going to the zoo, zoo, zoo, how about you, you, you

Singapore zoo is an amazing place. If you ever get the chance to go then do. It is billed as an "open" zoo, which means that other than some of the faster moving and jumping big cats, nothing is in a cage. Monkeys can roam free (Eve will never try to grab a cotton topped Tamarin again), the deer or giraffe could jump out of their enclosure but clearly can't be bothered, and the white rhino sat in their mud a few metres away eyeing us with boredom. There was something a bit unnerving about looking at a lion or tiger with no bars between you and the animal, but there have been no deaths as yet so I figure they are doing something right. A friend of mine strongly believes that the approach of the zoo is synonymous with the political approach in Singapore in that if you keep the captives well fed and happy then they have no reason to make a fuss.

Eve loved the zoo, but not in the usual "ahh, there are cute animals" way. In fact, she largely ignored most of the animals and seemed very non-plussed at all the tigers and rhinos and elephants that her mummy was getting excited over. Being a very child friendly place, for a small fee you could rent a little khaki green truck thing that you could seat your toddler in and push or pull them around. We got one with a little door. Eve loved it. It would not be an exaggeration to say she found it the most exciting part of the whole zoo experience and would not be parted from it. While we were waiting for the jaguar feeding Eve decided that she wanted to push the cart herself. As we were, at this point, sandwiched in a small hot room with about 30 other people I wouldn't let her, there was nowhere to push it except into other peoples' knees. Cue a meltdown of the strongest, and loudest order, so that in my very British-my-child-cannot-ever-disrupt-other-people way I ended up taking her out of the room. However, I couldn't get the cart and a screaming Eve out of the tiny room so left the cart there, which made her even louder and more upset. Until I showed her a little yellow flower, which she pulled apart, and all was right with the world.

Island for children

The Easter weekend saw us in Singapore on a family long weekend. The flight out was, as predicted, wonderful. If you are travelling with a toddler and have the cash or miles fly the new Singapore airlines business class then beg, borrow or steal to do so - the seats could house a family of 5 so Eve sat next to me to eat her lunch at the same time as I ate mine. It was wonderful not to have a squirming toddler on my lap while I threw bread and pasta onto her head. Anyway, I digress. Singapore is a brilliant place for children. Most families new to Asia, given a choice between Hong Kong and Singapore, tend to choose there simply because on the face of things it is so child friendly. I must admit it is. The whole place is set up for kids. Aside from the Asian love of all things small and cute, everywhere is child-friendly. Every restaurant or cafe we went into had child seats - something I have never found anywhere else - and people to help you get them and put them in place. Even the Indian cafe on the beach where we went, bikini clad, for lunch had children's seats and a children's menu. Almost every major attraction had a special area for children so we enjoyed the botanic gardens (with a children's garden complete with sandpit and fountains to play in), the zoo (kidszone with a pool and little pull along carts for the kids to ride in), and the aquarium (a petting pool full of stingrays). Even when Eve was shouting at the top of her lungs at breakfast in our nice hotel, the staff would play peek-a-boo with her and other guests would smile and laugh at her. They even have a toy museum. It was the perfect child-holiday.

Mile high club

The family are off to Singapore for Easter. We were going to Vietnam, but the Boy is working in Singapore for most of April so we thought that rather than the ridiculous situation of him flying back from Singapore on Thursday, to Vietnam on Friday, and then back again on Monday - Eve and I would go to Singapore to join him. This decision is also helped by me having miles for Singapore Airlines (an airline no good for us except to go to Singapore) that need to be used up by May. So, in the spirit of my daughter always seeming to fly business class, and the sheer number of miles I have that are about to run out, Eve and I are flying to Singapore in their swanky new business class.

On the way back we are flying with the Boy, using miles again. However, the Boy, whose company is paying for his flight back, is on a cheapo economy fare that can't be upgraded. Goody, I thought, Eve can be with Daddy back in cattle and I can enjoy champagne and movies in peace for the first time in a very long time. I made a few considerate noises about feeling a bit guilty about him being back in economy with Eve, but not so loud that anyone would actually be able to hear them.

I have just got the ticket for Eve through. She is with me in business class. It would appear that the Boy is going to have a restful flight, albeit back in the cheap seats, while I toddler-wrangle on my own next to businessmen glaring at me.

This was not what I had been imagining. Although she could be useful in taking champagne back to Daddy.

Postscript: I know this makes me sound like a precious expat. Oh well.

I think I'm turning Japanese

No sooner are we back from one holiday than we are off on another, this time to Tokyo for Christmas. I rather romantically want to show Eve snow and a very close friend and her two boys moved there from HK this year and Christmas is nothing if not about the kids (said with a Smashy and Nicey drawl).

I been to Tokyo many, many times for work and for pleasure but it dawned on me today that I have absolutely no idea what to do with a baby, she not being very into sushi or karaoke. So I emailed some Japanese friends to ask them and one suggested this place

It is a measure of how much my life, and trips to cool cities like Tokyo, has changed that I find myself thinking this looks rather fun!

Summer holiday

We have survived, and mainly loved, our first holiday as parents. However, nothing had quite prepared me for how different it would be to holidays gone by.

Firstly, the sheer amount of stuff that one has to take with a baby. I seemed to pack 3 bikinis and a toothbrush, the other 35kg of luggage were for Eve. Aside from the stockpile of nappies, tins of formula, spare jars of food just in case, sterilising tablets for the bottles, changes upon changes of clothes, and Calpol, I also had an entire bag (shaped like a penguin with a squeaky beak) of toys and amusements taken with me. If only I had known that an empty coke bottle filled with pebbles stolen from the nice water feature at the pool would have been so popular I wouldn't have bothered. Anyway, we took more luggage than when we used to go diving and took all our diving gear.

Secondly, your evening ends at 7.30. We stayed in places with terraces so we could put Eve to bed and then sit happily and listen to the lapping of the waves and read a good book while supping a nice bottle of something. All this is lovely, but as you hear the youngsters partying in the next bay one does feel rather old.

Finally, you don't do anything just as a couple. We both went diving, but because someone had to look after Eve we went diving separately at different times. Whenever Eve was awake we were a trio, and a fun trio it was too.

However, I think this was one of my most enjoyable holidays ever (excluding the couple of days when Eve and I were rather ill). I discovered the joys of chasing crabs in the surf, will always remember Eve's grin when she saw a starfish for the first time, danced around an empty dance floor like a loon with my daughter, and discovered that Eve likes to eat sand.

We also invented an entirely new game involving a pool table, balls, cues and a crawling baby. It is imaginatively named Baby Pool and the frison of excitement is enhanced by not only whether your carefully potted balls will be taken out again but also whether the baby is chewing on the cue ball when it comes to your turn. She is rather adept at shoving the number 8 in a pocket when she gets bored, thereby ending the game.

We're all going on a summer holiday

Since Eve was born we have not had a family holiday. We went to the Olympics with some friends (and a few hundred thousand other people) and also back to see the family in the UK but have not really had a proper family holiday with just the three of us.

The Boy and I, working in finance as we do, have had a stressful few months and are looking forward to a well deserved break for 2 weeks. We had treated ourselves to Business Class flights, one week in a boutique hotel in the hills and one week in a beachfront villa. Leaving this Saturday, tomorrow.

Except these lovely retreats are both in Thailand and we would have had to fly via Bangkok Airport (currently occupied by a few thousand protesters) and there is a very real possibility that there will be a military coup while we are there. The Boy and I are pretty well versed with the somewhat precarious political situation in most of our holiday destinations but even we had to draw the line somewhere.

So, we are off to the Philippines for 2 weeks now.

This didn't stop the boy from spending breakfast this morning trying to teach Eve to duck every time he shouted "grenade".