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Sad mum diary

Adventure, motherhood, Road Trip, solo parenting, Travelling, Travelling with kids /

Guess what? Turns out I have a fan base – small, yet loyal, and urging me to write more. There must also be a dedicated bot out there reading this blog as my inbox is regularly assaulted with “accept this comment” emails. With excitement, I open the email eager to see that a reader has engaged with my content, only to read: “Try your luck! Just remember to keep it fun, don’t chase your losses.”

Unsure how this comment relates to travelling and/or motherhood, I curse the spam gods.

We’re back in Adelaide, Méabh and I. It wasn’t really an adjustment returning to the City of Churches. After 6 months away, you’d think it would be. However, what I realised while I was away was how much I’d been running from. I used travel as a means of escape, hoping my problems wouldn’t follow me.

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We’re going on a Wombat Hunt

Adventure, Adventure place, Hiking /

I tend to hobby jump. Some stick around longer than benefit me – like watching Married at First Sight obsessively – and others lose consistency, much like I do on a diet. However, hiking has remained a love of mine for a number of years now. I’ve been able to enjoy it solo, with Meabh, and with friends.

In December 2024 I forced three of my friends, all of whom had never met each other and live in different states/countries, to spend two nights and three days hiking the Routeburn Trek in New Zealand. Never doubting my friend match-making abilities for a second, I was proven right when we all emerged from the 33km trek smelly but still smiling. A blossoming friendship group had formed. We vowed to do it every year. 

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Our Dutch Life

Adventure, Adventure place, motherhood, solo parenting, Travelling, Travelling with kids, women /

I had a definite sense of unease and trepidation boarding the Galway Citylink bus to Dublin Airport. Méabh and I had just farewelled close friends from home, leaving them to the remainder of their Ireland road trip, while we jet-set off to the Netherlands, and I’ll admit I had really missed having friends on this side of the world.

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Off-Duty For A Week

Adventure, Adventure place, Hiking, motherhood, solo parenting, Travelling, Travelling with kids /

I wasn’t going to include my solo getaway, but due to popular demand from my loyal readers, here it is – albeit brief. I left my tiny companion at 3am in Galway, in the hands of her loving grandparents and favourite aunty.  At times, i’ve fallen deep into many a habit hole whilst surfing the comments section of parenting facebook groups.  These tend to be spaces filled with deep devotion, and perspectives on leaving children that are worlds away from my own.  Many posts come from parents who couldn’t imagine being away from their child, even briefly.  I remind myself how lucky I am to have such great support, and without guilt, jump on that bus to Dublin.  I had a wedding to attend. 

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Lost in the Fjords

motherhood, solo parenting, Travelling, Travelling with kids, women /

Picking up our brand new electric car in Oslo was the start of our next adventure. I’d already flirted with the “wrong” side of the road in a manual car during my escapades down south, so I felt confident enough. That confidence quickly unravelled as the car started yelling at me for no apparent reason, and the exits in the middle of a major city suddenly felt like the maze scene from the Triwizard Cup—confusing, and mildly terrifying.

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Chaos in the Calm — Yurt Life in Norway

Adventure, Adventure place, Hiking, Norway, Travelling, Travelling with kids /

Leaving Ireland felt like being cast as a member on Alone. The training wheels were off, and it was just the two of us.

I’m famously stubborn when it comes to luggage. Unless absolutely necessary, I refuse to pay for a checked-in bag. This character flaw (or strength?) is truly tested in Europe, where they’ve started charging for anything that doesn’t fit below the seat. Eventually, I caved (slightly) — four weeks in unpredictable weather couldn’t fit “under the seat in front of you.” I bought one 10kg bag that was allowed in the overhead compartment, selfishly squishing Méabh’s clothes into a small backpack. At this point, it’s become a game between the airline and me — just how far will she go to not pay the extras? At home, I always win, but on this flight, I was forced to buy a $5 protein ball for the hungry hippo sitting next to me.

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Ditching the Crowds: Our Scenic Hike Along the Cliffs of Moher

Adventure, Hiking, Ireland, Road Trip, Travelling, Travelling with kids /

We wind down the narrow, serpentine roads, hedgerows hugging each side – the west of Ireland showcasing its stunning scenery. As we pass through charming little towns, I know we’re not in Kansas anymore.

“Hey Mum, look, a castle!” says Méabh, as if from a fairytale – Ireland’s rolling green hills, stone walls, and castles seem plucked from a storybook.

Through Kinvara, Lahinch, and Lisdoonvarna (feels like a song, doesn’t it?) — all towns along the Wild Atlantic Way — we arrive safely in Doolin. Sustained by tourism and agriculture, Doolin is the gateway to the Cliffs of Moher, the Burren, and the Aran Islands. Though relatively small, it doesn’t lack charm.

We meet Pat Sweeney at The Doolin Inn at 10 a.m. He later told me he was 10 minutes late the previous day because one of his cows was giving birth — not your standard tour guide. A local farmer by trade, a jovial tour guide by day.

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Holier Than Thou: Hiking With My Father in Law

1 Comment / Adventure, Hiking, Ireland /

Croagh Patrick leaves no prisoners as it throws you into an immediate ascent. At 764m, it barely exceeds the usual Sunday Lofty hike in Adelaide, but this mountain seems far more imposing. Dubbed Ireland’s holiest mountain, it draws tourists and pilgrims alike who come for the unrelenting views and its strong ties to Christianity. Ireland’s patron saint, St Patrick, was believed to have spent 40 days and 40 nights fasting, sheltering in the church at the top of Croagh Patrick before famously banishing the snakes from Ireland.

In the Emerald Isle, the sun can’t tell if it’s coming or going, making it perilous to the wild weather of the Atlantic seas. But, as my father-in-law says, “If you don’t say, ‘Fuck it, I’ll go,’ then you’ll find yourself glued to the couch watching Netflix all summer long.” So, you take the weather forecast with a pinch of salt and pack for all seasons. The weather lady promised pockets of sunshine on Friday of the bank holiday weekend—that would have to do.

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