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Intergenerational travel or you took your grandson where?!
2006 I took my then 9-year-old grandson on a cruise to Libya! Libya, I can hear the gasps. Why on earth did you do that?
I’m a solar observer and former manufacturer of specialized instruments for observing the sun and the golden grail is a total solar eclipse. The eclipse of March 29th 2006 path of totality covered a swath of the North Africa and Libya was forecast to get around four minutes of totality. Hog heaven.
I signed up for an eclipse tour sponsored by Sky and Telescope Magazine but when I saw the singles supplement cost I had second thoughts. And then in casual discussion with my daughter and son -in -law I broached the possibility of taking Ben. Their response was a heartening “we trust you and what an awesome experience for him”. It was an awesome experience for both of us.
Our cruise ship was an Italian liner sailing out of Genoa. Ben and I flew from Tucson to Heathrow via BA (direct overnight flight) and despite ample time to make our connecting flight to Milan, horrendous lines at security meant we missed the connection and did not arrive in Milan until well 10 p.m. Note to self…avoid Heathrow if at all possible. An hair raising taxi ride to our hotel (always ask an Italian taxi driver to show you his tariff card prior to getting in the cab, no surprises at the end of the ride). I had told Ben that his first night in Italy he should eat pasta and gelato! He held me to that so midnight found us sitting at sidewalk café, the Duomo in clear view and this child chowing down on a massive plate of pasta and sausage. He took his gelato “to go” and we strolled the Duomo plaza much like seasoned Italians. What fun.
Our train to Genoa did not leave until 2 p.m. (what a deal…a child and ‘grandmother’…senior citizen fare…but you’ve got to ask) and we spent the morning visiting the Ferrari shop and the Duomo…took the elevator to the roof…he loved it; I hate heights! but the views from the rooftops out over Milan were worth conquering my fear for. And of course there was more gelato to sample when we got down.
 "Awesome"...top of the Duomo
The train station was replete with it’s own traps. Beware of strangers who grab your suitcase, urge you to run because the train is leaving and then hold the luggage up for ransom when you board the train. I stood my ground with one of these unauthorized porters and refused the 10 Euros he demanded; as Ben put it, “wrong grandma to pick a fight with”. Ben was glued to the window on the 2 plus hour ride to Genoa and on arrival we managed, not easily, to get up to the street level with luggage (in addition to each having a suitcase, I was toting a Coronado hydrogen alpha solar telescope). A taxi took us to the marina and the hall through which we boarded the liner.
and Teddy came too
 I had pre-booked specific tours at various ports of call and am glad that I did so. Quite a few people were disappointed at not being able to get room on tours. Our first port was Naples and we visited Pompeii…what fun for a child, particularly the stray cats and ash entombed mummies. It was a bit of a zoo…hoards of tour groups shuffling after a guide. We broke ranks and used our own guide book to visit areas that I thought would be of greater interest to a child and it got us out of the shuffle along line. Naturally the tour ended with sampling the gelato.
 Next stop was Sicily and we took a bus to Taormina to visit the Roman amphitheater. Spectacular. And then the excitement built during two days at sea (“dry” as soon as we entered Libyan waters) as we sailed towards Tobruk. Our liner was one of the first tour ships in quite some time to dock in Tobruk and we watched with great delight the exchange of bouquets between our captain and welcoming dignitaries. Prior to the trip, there had been a lack of clarity about visas and cost involved but on the day that we were to embark for the eclipse site, the Libyan authorities waived surcharges and without exception treated us as treasured guests. We went by bus about two hours into the desert to the eclipse site and found a tent city in place. Vendors of food and drink, bands, boy scout groups performing traditional dances, drummers and of course camels. It was a joyful and colorful scene.
I’m hard pressed to describe the silence and stillness that enveloped the camp as first contact with the sun approached, followed by murmurs of delight as the cloudless sky afforded flawless views of the encroaching moon shadow, and the universal gasp followed by a hush as totality descended. It was an eerie, rippling light that engulfed us; the temperature drop during totality was significant; the Shadow Bands were prolonged and obvious on the flat sand. And a touch of the modern world emerged as automatic sensors in car headlights came on. I heard Ben’s voice shouting “diamond ring, see the diamond ring”. As the shadow moved off and the sun reappeared excitement took over and the ‘did you see…” “awesome” “amazing” rang out in many languages. I turned to see Ben being interviewed by a Libyan TV crew. He told them that his grandma had made all the gold colored telescopes. They turned and looked at me in my wrinkled linen and obviously thought the child was delusional. I was told, confess to not seeing this, that most of the Libyans at the camp averted their eyes and knelt in prayer as we approached totality, that there was a long tradition in the Muslim faith of praying during an eclipse.
 The jolting return bus ride was anything but anti-climactic as amateur photographers passed around their cameras to show off their images and everyone talked about the primal impact the event had upon them I was no exception. All along the road Libyans stood outside their cars and trucks waving at us. It was a dream come true. Ben talks about going to the next one…this year but unfortunately the best seeing is in outer Mongolia and the cost is prohibitive. I will take him to another one.
Post eclipse we took a tour to Leptis Magna and I’ll write about that experience next month. What a remarkable place.
"Is this place really, really old". Leptis Magna
We were away three weeks and it was a wonderful opportunity for one on one time with a grandson. He returned not only an authority on the eclipse but on gelato! Our return trip took in Egypt and of course the pyramids and then the island of Malta; both countries in which I had lived as a child. I’d lived in Libya too, in Benghazi, but had little memory of that time.
Notes on Libya. See State department regulations regarding visas.
It is a Muslim country and the majority of western women I saw respected that culture and wore long sleeved shirts and kept heads covered…wise anyway since the sun was brutal. We had occasion to take a taxi into Tobruk from the harbor…the taxi driver refused payment and insisted on taking us to his brother’s café where he bought us lunch. Compare that to Egypt where every hand was outstretched grabbing and demanding money and where we were literally held captive in “my cousins” gift shop by our tour guide for over two hours. We took a bus from Tobruk to Leptis Magna and there was evidence of a society with disposable income. Flower and plant stands along the side of the road, families picnicking. It was also sheep killing day and the only time I encouraged Ben to play with his Game Boy and not look out of the window! A trip to the Allied cemetery outside of Tobruk found us accompanied by an unofficial guide. A man of about 60 who spoke beautiful English and who said he came frequently to the cemetery because of it was “full of peace”. He walked the orderly rows of crosses with us and told of Libya’s struggle to regain respect in the world. “We welcome you’ he said as he bought us cold drinks and escorted us back to our taxi. When we arrived at the ship I learned that he had paid our fare in advance. Growing up, I lived all over the world and learned to respect individuals over a country; to listen and reach out and in return appreciate gifts of kindness. The Libyan people I met humbled me with their generosity. I plan on returning to explore more of this oft maligned country.
Notes on international travel with a child
Make sure that you have valid power of attorney from parents to act on behalf of the child in legal and health matters. My letter remained in my bag until we were leaving Italy via the Genoa airport. An official asked Ben who I was and promptly requested proof that I had permission to travel with the child.
Carry with you a list of any medications, allergies or other significant data that would be useful in case of an emergency.
Do not expect a child to enjoy all the things that you enjoy and include kid friendly sightseeing and events in your itinerary. I didn’t want to ride a camel but he did; I enjoy galleries, he doesn’t but he loved the Ferrari shop.
Don’t baby and dumb down the experience. Keep information on a kid level and embellish the gory details of everything. (Gladiators fighting lions, sacrifices to Vesuvius and so on). I encouraged Ben to keep a trip journal and I was often surprised by his insights and what had attracted him. Highlights apart from the eclipse itself included mummies at Pompeii, Roman baths at Leptis Magna , the coliseum at Taormina, Vesuvius, the shower in our cabin, being allowed to order lox for breakfast, gelato (did I mention gelato?), meeting an “Australian kid”, wild taxi rides, staying up past midnight (I was the one begging to go to bed), formal dinner night on board (he wore a blazer and dress shirt without protest), playing table tennis with me, camel ride, the cannons outside St. Johns Cathedral in Valletta (Malta).
On board ship all the dinners were long and we had fixed seating. This was not a family cruise…maybe only 10 kids total. The adults at our table were uniformly gracious to Ben and included him in conversation…in return he became engaged, asked questions and told stories. I did allow the Game Boy at the table but only after the first course; even I found 2 plus hours of dinnertime to be arduous. One interesting note, we had one melt down. He stood in front of the mile long breakfast buffet one morning and announced, “there’s nothing to eat”. I realized he was overwhelmed by choice and from then on we abandoned the buffet for full service breakfast. In Malta, at a lovely café in St. Johns Plaza, he scoured the menu and was obviously glum. The waiter asked him what he really wanted, “A grilled cheese with a pickle, please”. No problem. Insist on “down” time every day. We ended up with a regular reading hour. Treasure every minute…they grow up and become teenagers! Oh, and don’t let your daughter pack everything but the kitchen sink like mine did.
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