I swore I would never take a cruise, primarily because they are terrible for the environment (not in alignment with my value of living harmoniously and peacefully with the natural world that is my home).

I am also flexible enough to expand as my people, life, and world evolve and this option became the best fit for some legitimate needs in this specific moment in time.

And so, the Rainbolts cruised.

Venice, Italy

We began our trip by flying into Venice, Italy, taking a boat through the canals to the Hotel Saturnia, and spent three days living among the Venetians. We leisurely wandered the alleys, bridges, and shops to our hearts’ content; explored, interacted, and tasted the place and culture. We toured the Doge’s Palace and Saint Mark’s Basilica and floated through the canals on a gondola.

The only obstacle in Venice was that we had to travel during peak travel season, meaning we were swarmed with other tourists everywhere we went. As homeschoolers, we have always traveled in shoulder seasons like September or May (sheer perfection with lower costs, less crowds, and perfect weather). I’ve actually been stuck behind this mental block since my children started school, but I finally got myself to the point of full acceptance around this variable. My oldest was preparing for law school, so it was a big summer trip or no trip before she launched. It was worth it to find my way to the yes—find an imperfect path forward.

“Wherever you go, there you are.”
-Jon Kabat-Zinn

Speaking of imperfection, I find that one of the most pivotal mindsets to hold for successful family travel is to accept that your people (yourself included) are exactly who they are today and expect them to show up exactly as they have shown you they do. If your child flees when triggered into dysregulation in the grocery store at home, they will flee when triggered into dysregulation in the open-air market of the Amalfi coast. We can open up and make space for the fullness of our people as they are, accounting for that reality.

Cruise

We then took a bus three hours down to the cruise ship in Ravenna and boarded our floating city. We had two balcony rooms beside each other, one with a king bed and one with two twins and an upper bunk that dropped down from the ceiling. This was our first trip ever in which all of our kids (now adolescents) were in one room and the hubs and I were in another. It has been a sweet journey of connection co-sleeping with our children for decades and it was so sweet (and easy) having space and time just the two of us now. Since my deck is always my favorite place in every home, it came as no surprise that our balcony was my favorite spot on the ship.

We anticipated spending our time lounging on decks, swimming in pools, and participating in fun activities, but the crowds, movement, noise, and energy were completely overstimulating (and I am not particularly sensitive to overstimulation, but every square inch felt like being at a rave). None of us entered a pool a single time (where my kids spend every waking minute at hotels) as they were like a stagnant human soup, packed with bodies such that there wasn’t even any “swimming” possible (no room for movement). My youngest spent all his ship time on the FlowRider surfing wave, but mostly waiting in line for it. Watching him surf for a few minutes meant standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the windy sun for an hour, plugging my ears for relief from blasting music. My family loves theme parks, but this was like waiting in a line at theme park but instead of an exciting ride you get a cafeteria buffet lunch. It’s entirely possible that our experience is more a reflection of summer in the Mediterranean than cruises in general, but the volume of everything felt fine in Venice, oppressive on the cruise ship.

That said, we had our private and quiet balcony rooms and we were there for the excursions—to have meaningful experiences in new and different places. It was pretty cool to fall asleep gazing out over the water with one view and wake up in a new place.

Those excursions ended up being the most simultaneously disappointing and rewarding aspect of our trip, reaffirming a value that we have long held: slowness (I am interpreting it as a learning experience). I feel immensely grateful to have visited so many places on this trip together as a family. There is value in that “sampler plate” style of travel—more bang for your buck (and time). It’s also not harmoniously aligned with our ways of being (and/or the life and travel style we have become calibrated to).

Case in point, I love iPhone photography, people I love in outdoor adventures being my most treasured artistic opportunities, and I could not both drop into that creative viewpoint and be present in my wonder at such a rapid pace. I chose presence in my wonder, so I barely exist in the photographic record. (Credit and gratitude to my husband who kept trying to take photos of me even though I wouldn’t sacrifice the few minutes we had to see or experience something to participate willingly in any on camera appearances.)

Santorini, Greece

Santorini was my favorite place that we visited on this trip. If I could go back to one location on its own, this would be it. It was incredibly unique and special (in a similar way to Venice in that there truly is no other place in the world like it). I long for three days in Oia outside of the busy season to stroll the white cliffside stairs and tunnels that cap the volcanic island like snow. I crave the taste of the place and culture—the experience of sitting leisurely at a table beside locals and hearing the sounds of their language being spoken around us while smelling the cuisine. My eyes were left wanting so many more hours to absorb the remarkable views in every direction. More than anything, I want to sail the caldera and swim in the hot spring—I want to connect with the nature of the place through my pores.

The excursion we purchased through the cruise included a few hours on a tour bus going between the three towns, jumping off and running through for mere minutes before pulling away and returning to the ship. We were rushed in such a way that all the mindfulness and presence in the world could not generate a sense of ease or satiety. I feel immensely grateful for the gift of Santorini. We just needed it in slow motion.

Mykonos, Greece

For our Mykonos excursion, we opted to tour the nearby island of Delos to explore the vast archaeological site of Ancient Greek ruins. Our tour guide was lovely and informative, but the sun was brutal on this oppressively hot day. It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (especially for anyone who has ever had an Ancient Greek special interest). My nerdy inner child was living her archeological dream. The middle-aged woman body around that inner child was melted.

Athens, Greece

Athens was probably the biggest surprise for me, in that I really didn’t feel any connection to the city. We walked through the Parthenon at the Acropolis, which was incredible, but so packed and regulated that my kids described it as feeling like a line for a ride at Disneyland and that description oddly made perfect sense. It would probably feel different if the crowd wasn’t so intense, but I’m not sure it’s ever less crowded. I feel grateful to have made contact with that incredible piece of history and I didn’t feel a need for more time in Athens.

Our favorite stop of this day was actually at the end of our trek from Piraeus (cruise ship) through Athens (Acropolis) to Cape Sounion, where we got to visit Poseidon’s Temple. We all agreed that this was our favorite ancient site. It was completely uncrowded and standing tall along the edge of a cliff overlooking the sea. It just felt so . . . right. Perhaps the Rainbolt sailors are simply children of Poseidon.

Split, Croatia

Our final destination was Split, Croatia. We had originally booked this excursion to be our water day with a small boat trip through the little islands to explore the Blue Cave and a day at the beach. It was inexplicably cancelled right before our trip. We were forced to pivot and book the next best adventure offered, which was a hike through Krka National Park waterfalls and a visit to the Sokolarski Raptor Centre. At this point in the trip, I admit that we were all feeling a pretty marked disappointment at being so close to the seas but unable to jump into any of them—we need water (children of Poseidon, remember).

The raptor center was actually a pleasant surprise. It was West’s favorite experience of the entire trip and we were all genuinely delighted. Sky said it felt like a classic hackschool adventure and I could not agree more. Our guide was deeply passionate and knowledgeable about his niche life’s work and the personal and cultural way in which he shared his gifts with us connected us with a sincere taste of Croatia’s people and history.

The hike through the National Park was perfectly lovely but crowded. My big kids lamented that it could have been anywhere, as in, if I told them we were in Washington or California, they would not have questioned it. That observation resonated with me as speaking to that experience. It was nice, but it was something we do often in an environment that felt familiar.

The connection of history, geography, culture, language, economics . . . it just all comes together through travel. I spent this time consistently in a state of wonder. What a gift. And one of the feelings that most surprised me through this experience was a sense of place and appreciation for home (a feeling of rootedness). Not in a way of homesickness, as in longing to be back home while on our trip, but as in valuing more deeply what we have. I think I was intending and expecting to expand my sense of belonging but it actually contracted it (in a way that feels natural, healthy, and consistent with my overall evolution in this season of life).

So, would we ever cruise again? Maybe. Rigidity and dogma has really fallen away as ill-fitting for me in recent years. But certainly we will be seeking and prioritizing the slow travel that we know allows us to soak in and be moved by our experiences. If available, I choose the potential discomfort and inconvenience of more comprehensive experiences that change me in real time.

On the horizon, we are setting intentions for a trip around the Iberian Peninsula, with time in Spain, Portugal, and the Azores Islands (the lands of my ancestors). We also have our sights on Scandinavia, where we can be in contact with the social and political values that resonate so deeply with us, in places like Norway, Sweden, and Finland. We’re also content to take our time exploring the world, living in the same way we prefer to travel: slowly, savoring with intention.