Seven hours on a train with a toddler may not seem like everyone’s idea of the perfect start to a holiday but tootling to the French Alps by train for a family ski holiday is actually great fun.
Armed with at least ten bags of varying sizes between us, from change bag and toddler day sack overflowing with toy aeroplanes, books and other distractions, to travel cot and our own clothes for a week’s ski holiday, stuffed inside a tiny suitcase, my husband and I set off to St Pancras like intrepid explorers.
A stop-over in Paris was the perfect opportunity to recharge our batteries after the first relatively short stage of our journey. We even walked from the Gare du Nord to our hotel in the Marais along the Canal Saint Martin, there may even have been whistling while we walked, at least for the first five minutes anyway. Paris’ potentially surly waiters were charmed by our one year old and we had service with a smile at a local brasserie.
At the Gare du Lyon the next morning, boarding our TGV, I prayed that our carriage would be full of friendly child-loving faces. In fact, the carriage wasn’t even full, allowing us to spread out. A table made the perfect runway for the toy aeroplanes and the ever changing scenery enchanted our little traveller. Nappy changes were manageable as the TGV had baby changing facilities, and the buffet car kept everyone quiet for a least 20 minutes. There was even the opportunity for some Anglo-French interaction between two distinctly non-verbal toddlers as a French family sat in the seats behind ours.
Arriving in Cluses and counting our myriad of bags (yes, we still had them all), we felt virtuous and green in a good way, rather than airsick and green in a bad way. And a week later, after enjoying the fresh mountain air in the village of Samoens; think chocolate box chalets, skiing, sunny café terraces, botanic gardens and walks along the river – yes, we were sad to leave our little chalet at Les Fermes de Samoens, but excited about riding the train home!
Would we do it again? Definitely, anyone for boules in Marseille?
Armed with at least ten bags of varying sizes between us, from change bag and toddler day sack overflowing with toy aeroplanes, books and other distractions, to travel cot and our own clothes for a week’s ski holiday, stuffed inside a tiny suitcase, my husband and I set off to St Pancras like intrepid explorers.
A stop-over in Paris was the perfect opportunity to recharge our batteries after the first relatively short stage of our journey. We even walked from the Gare du Nord to our hotel in the Marais along the Canal Saint Martin, there may even have been whistling while we walked, at least for the first five minutes anyway. Paris’ potentially surly waiters were charmed by our one year old and we had service with a smile at a local brasserie.
At the Gare du Lyon the next morning, boarding our TGV, I prayed that our carriage would be full of friendly child-loving faces. In fact, the carriage wasn’t even full, allowing us to spread out. A table made the perfect runway for the toy aeroplanes and the ever changing scenery enchanted our little traveller. Nappy changes were manageable as the TGV had baby changing facilities, and the buffet car kept everyone quiet for a least 20 minutes. There was even the opportunity for some Anglo-French interaction between two distinctly non-verbal toddlers as a French family sat in the seats behind ours.
Arriving in Cluses and counting our myriad of bags (yes, we still had them all), we felt virtuous and green in a good way, rather than airsick and green in a bad way. And a week later, after enjoying the fresh mountain air in the village of Samoens; think chocolate box chalets, skiing, sunny café terraces, botanic gardens and walks along the river – yes, we were sad to leave our little chalet at Les Fermes de Samoens, but excited about riding the train home!
Would we do it again? Definitely, anyone for boules in Marseille?
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