This was not how I pictured my first visit to Australia.

How Australia Turned Into My First Single-Parent Travel Adventure

Having spent most of my life between Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, Australia always seemed like such a far-flung place. An unattainable travel goal — one that would require a serious amount of time, budget, and planning.
Add to that the fact that I was never particularly drawn to Australia as a destination, I figured my feet would never touch Australian soil.
And honestly? I was fine with that.

But then I moved to Bali.
Suddenly, Australia wasn’t this distant fantasy anymore — it was just a three-hour, €100 flight away. Technically, I could jet off to Australia for a long weekend!
Still, I didn’t feel the urge to go… until three years later, when my best friend called to say she had left everything behind in Belgium to settle in Perth.

There was only one thing to do:

Book. The. Ticket.

Meeting up with my bestie in a place I never thought I’d reach? This could only be epic!
I immediately started building a list of must-dos in West Australia: snorkeling the reefs, wine tasting in Margaret River, cycling around Rottnest Island, having random kangaroo encounters, exploring ancient caves decorated with Aboriginal art…

But just as I floated away on my Australian daydream, reality came crashing in:
I was traveling with my one-year-old daughter.

Even more so: I was embarking on my very first single-parent travel adventure.

DAMN IT.

Babies can’t snorkel.
There’s no toddler seat on a mountain bike.
I definitely can’t sip silky reds and detect notes of nutmeg while preventing a child from eating pebbles.
And descending into protected caves while carrying a kid who touches everything? Forget about it.

Goodbye, adventurous dream trip.
There was only one option: go with the (baby’s) flow.

Before I knew it, I was boarding the flight with a toddler on one arm and a bag full of her stuff on the other.
The only thing I had meticulously planned was the flight: enough milk, pre-cut snacks, new toys, ridiculous stacks of diapers and changes of clothes.
Other than that? Nothing.
I knew almost nothing about Perth. I had no idea what we’d be doing there and I really didn’t care.
All I cared about was surviving the car ride to the airport, making it through customs, and not losing my mind during the three-hour flight.

And that’s when I hit my first surprise:

Flying solo with a baby or toddler is quite all right!

You wouldn’t believe how many people reached out to me or spontaneously helped out. People really step up when they see you traveling solo with a child.
At every checkpoint, someone would magically appear to lift my bag, fetch a trolley, or hold doors open while I juggled kid, bags, passports, and boarding passes.

During the flight, strangers flashed me compassionate smiles, and a few even gave me kudos for traveling alone with my daughter.
(Of course, her waving and blowing kisses at every passenger probably helped.)

I had passed the first single-parent travel test with flying colors.
We even had an Australian stamp in our passports!
From now on, I could shamelessly say things like, “When I took my daughter to Australia…” or “She traveled to three continents before she could even walk.”
Douchey? Sure.
But proud? Absolutely.

The real reality check came when we reached the arrival hall — and my friend wasn’t there.
Where would I stay if she didn’t show?
How would I even get into town?

It wasn’t the first time I’d landed somewhere completely unprepared, but it was the first time doing it with a kid in tow.
I could suddenly feel the heavy weight of responsibility settle onto my shoulders.

Old me would’ve been casually sipping a cappuccino, catching up on some news and half-heartedly piecing together a backup plan.
New me was pacing the arrival hall, singing nursery rhymes under my breath, hoping we wouldn’t spiral into a hunger-fueled tantrum.

I had to accept it: Travel would never be the same again.
At least, not solo parent travel.

Eventually, my friend showed up and we spent the following days catching up…
We swapped epic adventures for low-key, baby-friendly activities.

Meeting new friends…

Beach hopping…

Wandering the quaint streets of Freemantle…

Going out for elaborate breakfasts, which seems to be the meal Australians take most pride in.

Taking spring walks along meadows filled with wild flowers

There was even space for some wine tasting after all!

What surprised me most?

The mellow baby-proof travelling didn’t bother me at all.

In fact, it made the trip more relaxed and enjoyable.
No stress, no pressure, Just pure enjoyment of being in the now.
It’s a completely different travel style — slower, gentler — but somehow, it fit.

After years of hopping from one country to the next almost effortlessly, travel had started to lose its edge for me.
But traveling with a toddler — and doing it solo — threw me right back into the deep end.
It made it challenging again. It made it an adventure again.

And you know what?
I’m ready to do it again someday.

The post “This was not how I pictured my first visit to Australia” first appeared on Travel Cake.