Reliable Arguments For And Against Traveling With Your Mother

You may discover that she put the "hood" in Motherhood

Special shout out to

JULIA HUBBEL

for this splash of inspiration. She and I had a brief conversation about traveling with moms last week and I think this is a totally relatable topic for most.

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FACT: I’m about as independent a traveller as you can find. I’m delighted with being left alone to my own devices in any destination.

No agenda, no waiting for someone else to do their hair, and no checking in with anyone before deciding what to do.

More importantly, no one can blame you if things don’t go as planned.

This was particularly true in 2010 when my mother decided to come to Jamaica with me and see what all the hype was about.

This would be her first (and only) time in Jamaica but it was my ninth. I was already intimately familiar with the culture and lifestyle which isn’t always comfortable. The locals can be boisterous, you may not have running water on any given day, and then we have cockroaches.

We're All Brave Until We Realize The Cockroach Has Wings

My mom, who was 62 at the time, was no rookie with travel. She had moved across the world to Japan all by herself in her 40s. She lived there for five years and had discovered cockroaches long before we travelled together.

While living abroad she explored all over Asia as a solo woman so I knew she could do a week in rugged Jamaica.

The only thing I worried about was whether or not we’d find enjoyment in the same activities. My idea of a fun time back then was dirty local bars and getting lost on road trips. As a Jamaica destination writer, I’d already experienced the touristy side of life on the island.

For the first few days of our trip, I had an accommodation review lined up in a fairly remote area. My mom and I were supposed to enjoy a complimentary stay for a few nights, assessing the hospitality while living it up in their best suite.

After that, we had a second hotel booked for the remainder of our trip.

Problem #1 occurs without warning.

This was back in the days before I drove myself around Jamaica so I had arranged for a local friend, Cliff, to pick us up at the airport and transport us to the review location, three hours away.

Upon arriving well after dark the front desk informed us that they had no space available for us. The property owner, who conveniently was not onsite, had messed up her schedule and the entire property was booked up.

I was mortified.

Not so much for myself but definitely for my mother. We were stranded in the dark after a long ass journey and now had nowhere to stay. This was her first impression of Jamaican hospitality and I was embarrassed.

We had no backup plan. I mean, why would we? I was invited there to write a review.

Thank God Cliff hadn’t just dropped us and left, he accompanied us in to make sure we got settled. At that point, he was our only hope. I felt so ashamed that my mother had to experience this on her first night on my beloved island.

Thankfully, Cliff’s home was nearby and he immediately offered to take us there so we could get a good sleep and sort out our situation in the morning.

My mom is such a boss. She handled it like a champ. The two of us shared a bed at his house in the middle of nowhere-ville, and as it turned out, we actually quite enjoyed our time in the countryside.

We made the best of two days in his community, playing with goats, meeting local kids, and wandering beautiful rural roads we never would have seen had we not been stuck.

Here’s my mom in her jammies on our first morning at Cliff’s house. Not an ugly place to wake up, that’s for sure!

We then decided to call our next hotel to see if we could check in a day early. Once we settled and stopped flying by the seat of our pants, our real vacation commenced.

Things I never would have done if not for my mother.

Because I wanted her to enjoy herself to the fullest, I took part in activities that would appease her. Things I would never have considered if she wasn’t with me.

A botanical garden, for instance — a place I had no interest in seeing if not for her. I’m not a super fan of flowers or gardening, and I’m definitely no fan of the 3-storey wall of Banana spider webs we encountered in our nature walk.

If you think I’m joking, zoom in on this 😂😂 Those are ALL spiders.

Banana spiders at Shaw Park Gardens, Jamaica. I realize nobody needed to see this.

We did a plantation tour — an activity I didn’t even know existed until asking locals what a mother would enjoy doing. This is where I learned that pineapples grow underground, not in a tree.

What kind of dork doesn’t know this? A Canadian dork I guess.

Both activities were loaded with cultural history, learning, and incredible beauty. And both gave me tons of new writing content. Who knew that travelling with my mother could be so enlightening?

After having done a few things to delight her I pulled out the big guns and suggested some activities with more grit. I wanted her to experience Jamaica my way because, after all, that was the name of my award-winning blog — Jamaica My Way.

Things my mother would have never done without me.

The first thing I arranged was a deep sea fishing trip with some local fisherman friends. This was no regular trip through. We went out to check fish traps in a rickety wooden boat on what developed into a dreadfully stormy day.

I can’t lie, I was pretty fearful out there in that little boat battling wave swells much higher than our heads. If we were to capsize I wondered what would I’d try to save first — my mother or my camera? Travel blogger’s dilemma. 😁

Again, my mother handled it like a champ. We finished up that excursion soaking wet, freezing cold, and without any fish, yet she admitted to having a fantastic time once we returned to shore alive. I had never yearned for a long, HOT shower in Jamaica until that day.

Soaked to the bone after our fishing trip

The second activity I arranged was another water gig but a much more subdued, less life-threatening one. We lazily drifted on a river rafting tour aboard a bamboo raft, complete with a local captain. What a stunningly gorgeous way to spend an afternoon.

White River, St Mary, Jamaica

© K. Keller

The last thing I made my mom do was get down and dirty at a community bar. A bar that my Jamaican best friend/brother owned. His watering hole was so tiny it only had three seats and a sound system so outrageous that it didn’t belong in such a compact space.

You could get drunk for less than ten bucks in his place - a stark contrast from the umbrella cocktails at the hotel bar we had been frequenting all week.

What you see behind us is the WHOLE bar. That’s it.

The night she unleashed her mother ‘hood’ side.

Aside from our accommodation incident at the beginning, the biggest con about travelling with my mom was that she didn’t fully grasp the fact that I was on vacation, too. She also didn’t grasp that I was 38, not 18.

We were in a country where I had established myself for many years prior, which meant I had a whole network of friends and acquaintances I wanted to connect with.

I had spent plenty of time with my mom alone and in the company of fellow hotel guests, schmoozing over cocktails and dinners. I wanted her to feel comfortable so I relinquished myself for the majority of our trip.

One night I told her I had plans to get together and go out with some local friends. She seemed fine with the idea and I knew she’d be okay at the hotel mingling with other tourists. So away I went for my night out on the town.

I had a smashing good time and didn’t stumble back in until around 4 AM. I crept into our hotel room as quietly as possible but of course, when you’re trying not to wake your mother, it is universal law that you must trip over every pair of flip-flops within a 3-mile radius. 😳

When she heard me clamoring through the door she flung open her covers, shot up in her bed and read me the full riot act for staying out so late. She ripped me a new one yelling, “I had no idea where you were or when you were coming back! How am I supposed to sleep not knowing these things?”

I was so thrown off by her exasperation. All I could reply was, “But Mom, you have no idea where I’m at ANY of the times I’m on vacation without you. How is this any different?”

I don’t think she appreciated the smart-assery but she had to know I was right. I’d been travelling solo for many years before this trip, so what’s one night out?

In the end….

Each of our days was full to the brim with equal parts exploration, adventure, and relaxation. I was proud to show her all the reasons I had fallen in love with Jamaica so many years earlier.

The best part of our vacation together was that she showed me how to see the island through fresh, touristy eyes again.

At the end of it all we agreed that we had a marvellous time travelling together.

I have always been grateful for what I discovered just because she was with me.

Just for fun, the pants I’m wearing in this photo are the ones I mentioned in THIS STORY. I still have them, 14 years later 😁

I bet almost everyone has traveled with their parents at one time or another. The time has come to spill it. If you’ve vacationed with your parents, how was it? Did you have regrets or would you do it again in a heartbeat?