Back in 1961 four engine prop planes were the available transatlantic air transport. The only reasonable method of crossing the Atlantic, particularly when traveling with small children, was by ocean liner. The amount of baggage you need to lug along when you do a transatlantic trip with an infant and a toddler, both of whom are in diapers, is amazing. You need, of course, at least some suitcases for the parents. In the end, we had 19 pieces of luggage including a double-stroller, our cat Pepper in his carry-case, and a diaper pail.

The diaper pail, which had behaved as an inanimate object should on the trip from Chicago to New York harbor, showed itself to have a mind of its own from the moment we entered our cabin on the ship. I had packed the clean cloth diapers for the babies in the pail under the assumption that I would put them in drawers and have an empty pail. The pail would not open. I had to ring for help; the ship's carpenter managed to get the pail to cooperate, but only after a struggle with a screwdriver. The pail never did close properly after that.

The pail did not like standing between the cribs. In spite of many attempts to block the diaper pail in place, the slightest roll would be an invitation for it to tip over and roll around the cabin. If the pail was in a good mood, the lid stayed closed; if it was feeling neglected, well, luckily we had an outside cabin and a porthole.

The cabin crew kept on eye on the sleeping children when we went to the dining room. Sometimes the pail felt friendly and I could eat a meal in peace. More often, a member of our cabin crew would approach the table to inform Signora that the pail, in a dead calm sea, had moved, banged the sides of the cribs, and woken the little ones. When we disembarked at Genoa, the cabin crew was very happy to see that pail leave. Genoa, however, was not our final destination. We were staying there for only one night.

We had reservations at a hotel. The hotel sent a minivan to meet us and our baggage. It took a while to fit everything into the small van. Finally, I placed the cat carrier on the bench seat, slid into the tiny space left for me in the van, and took the children from my husband.

Genoa is hilly away from the port. We soon left the level and the van climbed upwards winding its way to the hotel. We entered the hotel and found that we faced a long flight of marble stairs that led *down* to a lobby of imposing magnificence.

No way was I going to move

• 1
• 2
• next page >>

---

Add your voice

Know something about Humor: Travel?
We want to hear your view. Write now!