We have now enjoyed a week of our holiday in Cambodia on the beach and beside the pool. My brother arrives one morning and says, “I think it would be fun to go up to the jungle for the weekend.” My husband and I look at each other. Had he momentarily forgotten that we have a six, four and two-year-old. He assures me the children will love it and that we have to experience the ‘real’ Cambodia.
We relent and set off on our expedition armed with numerous cans of mosquito repellant. We strap the travel cot to the back of the car; one of my conditions on going. Our four-year-old son is ecstatic and dressed the part in full camouflage, ready to fight off “snakes and local baddies”. Half way there, the car overheats and we come to an abrupt standstill. Needless to say, we are in the middle of nowhere and an AA call-out is out of the question. We donate our bottled water and turn to a nearby river for help. Finally, we set off again and later arrive at our destination, Kep Lodge. We are greeted by a variety of dogs, which instantly throws me into a panic as I had been warned that they were highly unpredictable with children. Laden down with children, bags and the travel cot, we are led to our accommodation; a large wooden hut on stilts with a straw roof. Below it is a pond which looks as though it could well be the home to a few crocodiles. “It looks like the family rooms are the most basic,” my brother says, highly amused.
If it had been our gap year, with just a backpack and not a care in the world, this place would have taken our breath away. However, as a parent I was struggling. As night falls and the children lie asleep next door beneath their mosquito nets, we listen to the jungle noises around us. “They will be all right next door won’t they?” I say. Five minutes later, we are moving the three children into our bed and bolting the doors and windows. Later, we are woken by loud thuds on the roof followed by screeching. My husband jumps out of bed ready to face our intruder, but soon realises it is probably some lively monkeys. I am ecstatic when the sun rises. I untangle myself from the mosquito net and step out of bed. There on the wooden floor is a spider the size of my hand. The children giggle with delight. The final straw is the two enormous tree frogs staring up at me in the bathroom.
On reflection, the children revelled in the whole jungle experience but my husband and I were stuck in ‘parent mode’. We were in the zone of wet wipes and travel cots, rather than rustic huts and jungle wildlife. One day we’ll return though, barefooted and child-free to take on the jungle again.
