Our family team has grown to a respectable number of four members. Little ‘T’ joined us in January, and as the sun grew stronger, we started looking forward to our summer vacation. Warning signs flashed in our minds: two hyperactive kids versus two perpetually exhausted adults. Balance of power? Forget it. This year, it’s on the edge, and next year, the little ones will have the majority. It’s time to start planning ahead and strategically. We want to give our kids a summer vacation by the sea. But how to do that when our little sunshines seem to have the same relationship with heat as vampires do with garlic? Their tiny bodies aren’t yet equipped to handle the heat well.

So we opted for the northern coast, where we would treat little ‘A’ to endless water play with a giant sandbox all around, and the sea breeze would provide a spa treatment for the kids’ respiratory systems. In the spirit of “having your cake and eating it too,” we chose Sopot, the gem of the north. With a laptop in one hand and a coffee in the other, we searched for campsites, planned our excursions, and figured out how to manage the eight-hour drive. We even improved our situation by starting from our cottage in eastern Bohemia. We decided on a night drive, as ‘A’ sleeps quite well now, and hopefully, little ‘T’ would cope with access to milk. What we didn’t quite plan for was that the long night drive would be tough on Dad, who can’t fall asleep on command, let alone nap in advance of the journey. Not to mention, we would arrive early in the morning when campsites were still closed, and the departing guests would still be there.

Arriving in Sopot in the early morning hours felt like a scene from a movie. The kids, excited and full of energy, couldn’t wait to see the sea. ‘A’ was in seventh heaven when she finally saw the sea, and ‘T,’ happily playing on the beach, began to think that every morning should start with a sea view. A bit of stretching on the beach, breakfast, and the hunt for a camping spot began. We had a campsite picked out in advance, right by the beach and a bike path, with nice facilities, but they didn’t take reservations. They told us to just show up, and we’d find a spot. The not-so-pleasant receptionist let us walk around the campsite to check the tents with signs indicating who was leaving that day and choose a spot. But the place was packed, and even if a third of the campers left in the morning, we’d still be crammed in like sardines. Time to find another campsite. Finally, we found our temporary oasis – Sopot 34. Thanks to the kindness of a Polish couple who were just about to leave, we found the perfect spot for our tent. It was one of those moments when you realize that friendship and kindness are the real magic of vacations. Before noon, we were settled in. Dad needed a rest but also wanted to explore the nearby surroundings. It was clear we’d be tucked into our sleeping bags before the kids tonight. But no matter what, we were ready for the adventure ahead – it was our first family vacation by the sea, and that called for a healthy dose of optimism and laughter. It’s August – the height of summer, the sun at its zenith, skin turning golden… or it would be if we weren’t in the north, where the weather is more unpredictable than our kids’ moods. The beach? Yes, it’s nice, but we tend to escape after a while.

So, on the second morning, we took the train to Gdańsk. It made perfect sense, given that we were in the so-called Tri-City, a name for the metropolitan area of Gdańsk, Gdynia, and Sopot along the Gdańsk Bay on the Baltic Sea. Plus, the train gets you to Gdańsk in 40 minutes, no parking issues, and let’s be honest, kids love trains. We didn’t have a specific plan for what to see in Gdańsk. We went with the philosophy of “wandering feet.” Gdańsk, with its long and rich history, felt like it came straight from a guidebook titled "How to be wonderfully ancient and still cool." The biggest hit? The riverside promenade. Why? Because of the boats. And who doesn’t love boats? Exactly. And just when we were on the brink of a parental meltdown, Peppa Pig in the form of a balloon saved the day. The most expensive balloon we’ve ever bought, but it saved our sanity. As we happened to be there during St. Dominic’s Fair, we found ourselves in a market paradise, where everything from antique treasures to local delicacies and regional products was sold. Stretching out a blanket under a tree near a playground and stalls of treats, relaxing while ‘A’ played and ‘T’ experimented with the local flora, was exactly what we needed. And then, back to the train, this time with a helium-filled balloon on board. An evening stroll along the beach and planning the next day? I’m already excited about the next adventure. But mainly, how will we keep that balloon from flying away? It looked like the weather was determined to cancel our swimming plans, so what to do? We hitched the trailer to our bikes and headed to Gdynia. The cycling paths were in excellent condition, but the users – particularly those on electric scooters – were another story. After about 30 minutes, we reached Gdynia, expecting something like Gdańsk in its Sunday best. But no, Gdynia felt more like a teenager still trying to find its style. The main attraction here is the harbor, which is great if you have a soft spot for ships and sea breezes. But don’t worry! We found a playground that could compete with Disneyland if you have a good imagination and an ice cream stand that was an oasis in the desert. And yes, we rode our bikes, which is always a win. On the way back, we stopped at a supermarket in Sopot to stock up – because every adventure needs supplies. Then the horror: we lost ‘A’s favorite toy, a well-traveled doll, somewhere in Gdańsk. But don’t worry, a plush seal from a local souvenir stand came to the rescue, softening the blow of such a big loss. Imagine that the next day of our vacation was finally dedicated to lazing on the beach. Equipment? A collection of everything a little sand architect and sea explorer might need – beach chairs, a mat, a tent, and, of course, a pile of sand toys, plus a life vest for ‘A’ and a swim ring for ‘T,’ which, to be honest, was as useful as an umbrella in the desert. As soon as ‘T’ noticed he was getting within two meters of the water, he started a symphony of negative emotions. It seems that ‘T’ has a deep affection for water that can only be expressed from a very safe – and very far – distance. After this episode, ‘T’ chose the strategy of "I don’t see you, you don’t see me" and fell asleep in the carrier while the rest of us enjoyed professional sun lounging. Sometimes, the best plan is no plan at all and to let the day flow as slowly as possible.

The next morning, we returned to the beach for more vitamin D, but by the afternoon, we were itching for a change – time for more cycling. We tucked the kids into the trailer for their afternoon nap, like two little mummies, and headed toward Gdańsk on bikes. We knew from the start that a bike ride through the city would feel like hauling a fridge on your back – so “why?” Strolling through the park and checking out the stalls in the hopes of finding ‘A’s lost doll. Unfortunately, no luck. When a tourist attraction starts whispering with its siren call, sometimes you just have to listen. We decided to visit the Hel Peninsula. Our original plan was to majestically sail from Sopot, but nature had other ideas – strong winds and waves were too much for the old wooden pier. Our new mode of transport? The train. The timetable promised a two-hour journey. “No problem,” we thought, “we’ll bring snacks and phones loaded with cartoons, and there’s room to walk around on the train.” How naive! The reality was a train so packed that sardines would be envious. And the more-than-three-hour ride, where we spent most of the time standing, felt more like a fairground attraction called "The Train to Nowhere." Dad came up with the theory that our train was being pulled by cows, who needed a snack and nap breaks. ‘A’ couldn’t wait to get off and go see these mythical train-pulling cows. Well, children’s imaginations know no bounds. It was hard to explain later that it was just Dad’s desperate attempt to lighten the mood.

Once we got there, it became clear that the Hel Peninsula was... well, let’s just say it wasn’t exactly our cup of tea. It reminded us of our visit to the Curonian Spit – both places are tourist traps with price tags that could cause dizziness. "Never again the Peninsula," we promised ourselves as we pushed through the crowds that could rival Black Friday lines, wondering how to get back to civilization without reliving the train odyssey. The solution? A ferry to Gdynia followed by a train. Before leaving, we treated ourselves to smoked fish, which became the last pleasant experience before the voyage. The following hour was like something out of a maritime horror story, with the weather determined to teach us a lesson in humility and waves that tried to convince mom that smoked fish wasn’t the best idea. Meanwhile, dad and the kids embraced their inner pirates and explored the deck, while mom expertly tested her seasickness. We all eventually made it to the upper deck, where mom assumed the position of "If I don’t move, maybe I’ll survive," clutching the railing, staring at the horizon, and holding a dozing ‘A’. It seems the boys enjoyed the trip a little too much. By evening, we were just trying to rest. It was quite an intense experience. Our vacation was nearing its end. However, we still had one pleasant visit left. Our friends, who were also in Poland by coincidence, visited us in Sopot. Together, we explored the unique wooden pier in Sopot, wandered through the town, and enjoyed lunch at a restaurant. It was a very nice meeting, but we had to start packing as we were leaving that evening.

Next came the dreaded packing, the true final test of the vacation. We tried to stuff everything into the car as if we were playing expert-level Tetris. Somehow, our roof box mysteriously shrunk over the week, and it seemed someone had swapped our keys, as it just wouldn’t lock. Tensions were rising.
As if that wasn’t enough, the car decided to add a bit more drama to the story – it refused to start. The battery, that tricky piece of technology, betrayed us at the worst possible moment. A helpful neighbor from Latvia with a hybrid car came to the rescue, though it lacked the power we needed. Thankfully, a Polish hero with a car strong enough to wake a sleeping mammoth appeared. Half an hour late, with strict instructions not to turn off the engine to keep the battery alive, we were on our way. The kids alternated between waking and sleeping. The journey dragged on slowly. Dad downed energy drinks and performed various tribal dances at rest stops to inject some life into his veins.
But instead of bringing energy, dad’s dances summoned rain. Before dawn, we finally arrived at the cottage. And though right now all we wanted was to sleep, we already knew that despite all the ups and downs and intense experiences, we would remember our first family vacation by the sea for a long time.