I'm in a state of exhaustion after spending the entire day trying to support my daughter who headed out for her first Eurorail hiking trip through Europe today.
I blame all the trouble on the French.
The idea was that Tuva and her friend were to take a flight to Nice, starting their 3 week journey from there. Turned out there was a huge strike going on among air control staff, so the flight was cancelled. They rescheduled to another flight via Denmark. But once in Denmark their next flight was cancelled, so they were stuck. Finally they managed to be rescheduled to Bologna in Italy where they landed this evening, only to find out that all their luggage was lost somewhere on the way.
She called me and cried and cried (being particularly emotional and vulnerable after her recent breakup with her bf) and just wanted to give up on everything, wanting to go home.
I know things will get better, which I assured her of course. But it breaks your mummie heart to hear your children so tired and sad and vulnerable. I wished I could just fly in there like a superhero and help her out, flying her home again.
Oh well. Now she's found a place to stay for the night at least and hopefully they'll find the luggage in the next few days. That's what travelling is like. Up and down. It's a bumpy ride, it's a part of the deal.
But it's tough to be at the sideline when all you want to do is to hug her.
End of whimper.