A few months ago, Adrian was invited to India to talk at the opening of a new medical research institute. He suggested that we make it into a family holiday. I was torn. I wanted to explore this intriguing country, but Hayden would only be seven months old, and even adults have difficulty spending a week there without getting ill. So we took Hayden off to the travel clinic, discussed our itinerary, and the doctor said that in her opinion it would be safe. I agreed under the condition that we had a private tour with our own driver and stayed in good hotels.

Normally I like to travel light and fit everything into a backpack. However, this would not be possible. I bought an embarrassingly large American-style suitcase, and this is what I packed for Hayden:

Checked luggage:

• Electric steam steriliser (with power adaptor)
• Electric kettle (with power adaptor)
• Ibuprofen
• Oral rehydration powder
• Enterol probiotic sachets
• Antibiotic eye drops
• Saline solution
• Light coloured onsies (long-sleeved with enclosed feet to protect from mosquitoes and sunburn)
• Sunscreen
• Aloe vera cream
• Fungicide
• Betadine
• Band-aids
• Burp cloths
• Nappies
• Powdered formula in aliquots suitable for 240mL water
• Ready-to-drink formula
• Breast pump
• Medela quick clean wipes

Checked at the gate:

• Bugaboo Bee Stroller
• Maxi-Cosi Car Seat with adaptor clips for stroller

Cabin baggage:

• paracetamol
• Baby bjorn carrier
• Passport
• Residence card
• 6 Avent baby bottles filled with 240mL sterile water (yes, security is OK with this)
• 4 days’ worth of formula aliquots
• anti-malarials
• anti-biotics
• 1 spare onesie
• Cold-water sterilising kit
• Ethanol hand sanitiser
• Anti-microbial wipes
• 7 nappies
• (I foolishly forgot a pen)

Adrian was already in India, so I made the 8 hour flight solo. It was actually fine – I caught a taxi to the airport and gave myself an extra hour to get through security (water bottles out of bag and onto tray, bag onto tray, baby out of car seat and into baby bjorn, car seat separated from stroller and onto tray, stroller collapsed and onto tray, walk through metal detector, stroller unfolded, car seat snapped back onto stroller, water bottles back into bag, baby back in car seat, baby bjorn packed into bag). Once on the plane, we had the whole four-seat bulkhead row to ourselves, and Hayden was happy to lay in his bassinette while I had my meals. We also met some lovely people across the aisle who wanted to play with him, which gave me another break.

Once we landed at 10:30pm, my headaches began. I waited 15 minutes for the car seat and stroller to be delivered to the gate. Then 20 minutes to get through immigration. Then 30 minutes for my luggage, only to be told that, as is tradition, it had been “delayed”. Somehow, Adrian’s luggage had travelled from Belgium to Portugal to Switzerland to Qatar to India without problem, but my one direct flight had been too much for the airline to handle. It took another hour for a representative to get my details and tell me that it would be at least another two days until I was reunited with my bag. I was somewhat relieved that the car seat had arrived, and my carry-on bag contained all the essentials we needed to keep Hayden fed safely for the next couple of days.

Poor Adrian had been waiting at the airport to meet us, and by the time we all got back to the hotel it was close to 2 AM. Hayden barely slept in his travel cot, and we all started the next day in low spirits. At breakfast I did not greet Kim, our travel companion, with much enthusiasm.

I already felt overwhelmed by India and I had yet to step out of my air-conditioned hotel.

We met our guide in the morning, and the first thing that he suggested was a bicycle rickshaw through the Chandni Chowk markets of Old Delhi.

This was one of the most noisy and chaotic experiences of the whole trip. We started out on the road, and I was suddenly surrounded by a cacophony of auto-rickshaws, motorbikes, cows, trucks, and cars.

The long rows of market stalls smelled of spices and street food, and the windows were filled with everything from marigold garlands to sparkling red wedding saris.

The crowded and narrow alleys of the markets bustled with pedestrians giving us curious looks, as well as monkeys sitting on the tangled cords that made up the electrical system.

By the time the rickshaw ride ended, I was feeling strangly rejuvinated. We had entered the colourful and chaotic world of Old Delhi, and I had actually enjoyed it. Here I was, reunited with Adrian and exploring an exotic and fascinating country with Hayden and Kim. There was plenty to learn here if I was just willing to let it in. I gave a kiss to my two boys, a smile to my other companions, and we all climbed back into the car ready to see more highlights of Delhi.

I love watching movies based in Belgium, seeing my host country captured on film, feeling as if I am part of a larger cinematic experience. We’ve just seen Tintin and the secret of the unicorn, released here before the US and Australia. It certainly captured the essence of Brussels, with its cobblestone streets and terraced houses. My favourite scene was right at the beginning where Tintin is rummaging through the flea markets at Place du Jeu de Balle (Ballgame Square), as it’s just down the road from our place. Maybe I should go hunting for a secret map too.

Blue sky days on the weekend are a bit of a burden in Belgium. After our long cold grey spring, any glimpse of sunshine must be embraced wholeheartedly. The sun rose on Saturday full of warmth and promise, so we were out of the house by nine to explore a little bit more of Belgium. Everyone else in Brussels also seemed to be outdoors, soaking up the light.

We decided to visit Tournai, one of the oldest cities in Belgium. It has an excellent Belfry and is the only city here ever to be ruled by England. An hour on the train took us to the heart of this new city. As we walked towards the cathedral, we spotted a market with a great deal of activity.

Along with fresh produce, there were also birds and goats for sale. The vendors had arranged them according to cuteness. We began with old-looking geese, and as we walked along we finally reached the chicks and ducklings. Excited looking children were choosing their new pets, and the vendors popped them into cardboard boxes and tied them up with string. The children distractedly carried the boxes in one had, and we could see anxious-looking beaks poking out of the holes.

We discovered a little duckling sitting in a box by himself, occasionally bounding up to poke his beak over the edge. Adrian called him Jumpling and we were very tempted to take him home and keep him in the bath. However, we decided that Peppermint might not be so welcoming.

The belfry was constructed separately from the cathedral, and we slowly climbed up the winding staircase to the top of the tower. The top was decorated with a gilded dragon, and golden gargoyles looked over our shoulders out at the view.

We finished up with a lunch in the main square, underneath the ferris wheel and between the market stalls, and then meandered home again. A bright spring morning sucessfully celebrated.

On Saturday night we boarded the train and headed west to Aachen. We walked through the city to our hotel, passing through the markets all lit up against the darkness. Giant inflatable gingerbread men stood guard over the markets, for we were to discover that this city was the home to dozens of different varieties of sweet biscuits called printen - similar to gingerbread but sweetened with sugar instead of honey. Once we got to our Best Western hotel room we discovered that it included our own private sauna, and we were able to soak in the steam to completely rid ourselves of the winter chill before bed.

In the morning, we stumbled across a great bar/restaurant called Havana (Homphausbadstr 17) that served a delicious buffet breakfast. The chicken was succulent, the potato gems were crisp, the tomato was fresh, and the mozzarella was bursting with flavour. We then meandered through the streets towards the markets, admiring the quirky statues that seemed to lurk on every corner.

The markets were much smaller than those of Cologne, but well worth exploring. It was very cold outside, with a high for the day of one degree above freezing. I drank plenty of hot chocolate to ward off the ice, and we often popped into cafes or museums to defrost. Many people in the crowd were wearing novelty hats, often resembling a great herd of reindeer and elves. We caught sight of this hungry little puppy called Dusty, who was desperate to sample one of the German sausages.

The printen stores were everywhere, and happily offering free samples and describing their contents. There were hard and soft biscuits, covered with white chocolate, milk chocolate, dark chocolate, or icing, and filled with nuts or raisins or liquor. We picked our favourites and took some small samples home to tide us over for the rest of the winter. I was smitten with the sight of a printen reindeer in one of the shop windows, but when we went inside they told us that they were sold out. Adrian told them how much I loved the reindeer, and begged them to sell us the last one in the window. They obliged, moving boxes and tables out of the way so that I could take the very last reindeer home with me to Belgium.

We also explored Aachen as Charlemagne’s capital city back in the 8th century. We saw his portraits and treasures proudly displayed in the opulent rooms of the town hall and walked around his hodge-podge cathedral. He spent his winters in Aachen, solidifying his control over the region and planning his future conquests. He was buried in the cathedral that had been initiated on his orders 28 years previously.

Then we hopped onto the train at 4:20, sped back to Belgium at 300km/hour, and we walking through our front door at 5:45. One of the many joys of exploring Europe by rail.