“Kids, we’re going to the sea again!” We said this sentence about a month after returning from our holiday in Sopot in September 2021. But this time we decided to change direction and head south to Italy – our favorite, where, back when we were “young, free, and childless,” we had a dream vacation, driving around the entire Italian boot. Though crazy ideas sometimes come to mind, this time we kept our feet on the ground, knowing that a trip to Sicily – the last unexplored gem for us – wasn’t realistic with three little pirates under four years old, and youngest “Z,” who would be just seven months old. So, we decided northern Italy, specifically the Pra’ Delle Torri resort near Caorle, would be the perfect paradise for our crew. And since we didn’t want to complicate our lives unnecessarily (and mainly didn’t want Mom’s head to explode from travel stress – yes, Mom and travel, it’s a constant battle), we decided to break the devilishly long 666 km journey into two stages. Camping Rothenfels in Oberwölz, Austria, seemed like the ideal pitstop. And you know what? It was love at first sleepover! With a castle within reach and a fairytale-like café, the campsite won our hearts, even though we only stayed one night. And the kids? They were in seventh heaven, sleeping in our new tent for the first time, which seemed like a castle to them. They ran back and forth, hammered stakes, and hauled sleeping bags like they were preparing for a siege. And so, the first day of our journey was great – the kids loved camping, and we were surprised the entire trip went smoothly, with just one stop for food and a leg stretch. Four hours might not sound like much, but anyone with demanding toddlers at home knows and understands… Sleeping in a sleeping bag is still a bit advanced, though – if they finally fall asleep in it, they end up out of it after a while, rolling around like larvae, eventually having the hood over their face, accompanied by loud cries of dissatisfaction. But nothing a warm pajama set couldn’t fix! In the morning, we woke up feeling pretty chipper – breakfast, packing the tent, and off to the sea. Riding high on yesterday’s smooth ride, we set off with confidence. The first stretch was easy. We took a break still in Austria, opting for schnitzel with potatoes, and then, boom – a one-hour traffic jam. The kids were as calm as possible, but Mom… What a relief it was when we finally reached the campsite without another stop. Dad calmed Mom, she calmed the babies (read: nonstop nursed the youngest, fed the middle one corn puffs under pressure), and the oldest, “A,” a seasoned traveler in the front seat, just watched, wondering why Mom was freaking out since we had it under control. And we did.

Checking in at the campsite is always that necessary prelude before the main event of setting up the tent – our temporary palace under the stars. The receptionist, like a guardian of secrets, told us where we would live for a week, reminding us of the afternoon siesta with such seriousness you’d think disturbing it was akin to stealing the crown jewels. Then came the moment – setting up our summer residence, an episode worthy of a reality show where time seems endless and tension in the kids skyrockets. Waiting to glimpse the sea felt like eternity for them. But, to be honest, they mostly got incredibly bored. Dad is indeed very skilled and handy but sometimes appreciates an extra hand. And at that moment, our kids entered the scene, eager to help… often in “counterproductivity expert mode.” Instead of handing over things, they mysteriously lost them, or placed them in places you’d never expect. And the youngest? Somehow, she magically teleported to the biggest mess she could find. Not even a story on the phone could curb the chaos. In the end, despite all the chaos and tests of parental resilience, we managed to set up our temporary home. Now, all we could think of was that moment when the kids would finally fall asleep, and we could savor that longed-for shower and enjoy a glass of delicious Italian wine in peace. Because, hand on heart, there’s nothing sweeter than the victory over tent stakes and the promise of a quiet moment with wine under the Italian sky.

Sunday is when the holiday officially begins, and we parents transform into full-time entertainers. Our role? Providing endless fun and meeting every possible and impossible need of our dear little ones. But don’t worry, we take it lightly and do things our way – family harmony first. And though not all days are picture-perfect, our simple goal is to survive each day in good health; everything else is just a pleasant bonus.

So what did we do all day? Our two water spirits – Dad and “A” – spent most of their time in the water. They’re just like ducks. Unlike last year’s “water fiasco,” “T” could now walk to the sea and even tolerated his ankles getting wet – all to fill his bucket with water for his sand kingdom. As for the youngest, “Z,” her relationship with water could be described as hysterics within a five-meter radius. But we’ve been through it before, so we know how to handle it. Mornings on the beach are mostly an opportunity for the youngest to nap in the carrier, while the rest of us battle the sun. Lunches on these tropical days are delightful – especially if they involve watermelons, a kid favorite. After lunch comes the siesta, and thanks to the local rule of afternoon quiet, we know that no one will disturb our sleeping angels. The only hitch? Our tent is the sun’s chosen target for its afternoon rays, turning it into a sauna rather than a place of rest. Our solution? Create a multi-functional cart with a car seat on top for “Z,” strapped down with bungee cords – Dad wasn’t thrilled, but at least Mom could get a moment’s rest. And no, we don’t just stay on the beach – that would be too simple. After siesta, we usually head to the campground’s water park, where there’s something for everyone. “A” becomes a fearless sailor on the pirate ship, “T” loves the pirate slide, and “Z” finally discovers the magic of water at the edge of the paddling pool. Water might sometimes scare us a little, but we always manage to handle it and even enjoy it.

The next day, we headed to the magical town of Caorle, where we treated ourselves to authentic Italian fare – ice cream and pizza. While the restaurant staff didn’t exactly love our table manners, thanks to our strategic terrace position, we hope the small creative chaos under the table wasn’t too much of an issue. As for bedtime, we weren’t too strict – we waited until one of our little ones showed signs of a low battery, and then it was time to put them to bed. In practice, this meant that Mom shifted to “putter-to-sleep” mode for “T” and “Z,” while Dad took “A” on an evening beach expedition. I must say, our teamwork and division of roles are now at a professional level. As they say, practice makes perfect – and we’re learning full throttle!

The weather threw a bit of a wrench in our plans, and the promised beach sunshine turned into treacherous clouds. We decided to escape the rain and head to Venice. It’s just an hour by car. There was no point in bringing the cart – too much hassle pulling it up and down all those steps and bridges. We opted for carriers for the little ones, and our little “A” took on the role of a tiny walking pilgrim. In Venice, the heat was intense; the sun was blazing. After finding face masks at a nearby kiosk – we’d almost forgotten they were still required everywhere – we could finally board the vaporetto, Venice’s water transport, and head toward the main attraction, St. Mark’s Square. And since we were there, we decided to make a pit stop at Café Florian – a legendary café where the waiter looked at us like we’d just landed from Mars. “A concert fee? Sure,” we said, as the waiter took our order with a look that said, “this will be interesting.” When our order arrived on an enormous silver tray barely fitting on the table, we were sure we’d crossed some invisible line between courage and insanity. Yes, the bill was high, but the experience was worth it – especially for “A,” who enjoyed it like a little queen.

Walking around the city felt like “torture” for the kids, with the only light at the end of the tunnel being the thought of the boat ride back on the vaporetto. And let’s be honest – the vaporetto wasn’t exactly a peaceful haven. If we weren’t being bumped, people were stepping on our little ones’ toes. “They’re small but not invisible!” we wanted to shout. The thought of someone offering them a seat? Unthinkable. It might not have been the ideal trip, but it wasn’t a total disaster either. And after all that, we made it up to them at a park with a playground, and all the little mishaps were soon forgotten. Venice? It’ll wait for us until the kids are a bit older!

We alternated between swimming in the sea and the water park and taking other trips. This time we headed to Treviso, a picturesque town known as the “garden of Venice,” just an hour’s drive from Caorle. With fewer tourists and more authentic Italian charm, Treviso welcomed us with open arms. Walking through the ancient streets of Treviso felt like stepping into another world. Home to United Colors of Benetton and the legendary coffee machine maker De’Longhi, the town offered views of historic buildings as well as modern Italian design and industry. We couldn’t pass up shopping at Benetton – the kids definitely “needed” something new, and Mom and Dad could treat themselves, too. The biggest hit, however, was an unexpected gift – a wonderful set of 80 crayons.
The trip to Treviso turned out to be a perfect break from typical tourist routes. Treviso reminded us once again that lesser-known places can offer unforgettable experiences. And here it is – D-Day, the day of departure, the day of “do we really have to go?” with a hint of “I don’t want to go home!” But there’s nothing we can do; we’ll be back next year and continue exploring northern Italy. And as for our accommodation – who would have thought we’d become fans of a resort that’s like Disneyland for kids? Everything we need is right here. On the evening before departure, we packed up a bit, leaving the rest for the morning. And our morning? Well, it was a circus. Right at nine, one of our fellow countrymen was circling our spot like a vulture, asking with a hint of cheekiness when we’d finally clear out. With love and patience, I explained to him that with young kids and their innate sense of time (somewhere between “never” and “maybe later”), it wouldn’t be so fast. And that their “urgent” need to play in the gravel was now our top priority. And in the end? By half-past ten, we were on the road with suitcases full of shells and hearts full of memories. Italy, see you again next year. After an unforgettable vacation in Italy, we set off homeward, planning a one-day stop in Klagenfurt am Wörthersee to break up the trip. We reached Klagenfurt in three hours without stopping. The campsite we chose for our final night was a charming place full of greenery, promising a peaceful evening under the stars near the lake. But as soon as we set up the tent, the weather changed our plans, sending us a rainy greeting. Despite the rain, our kids had their eyes set on the Ferris wheel, so we knew there was no way to avoid this adventure. With raincoats on, we embarked on our little adventure. The next day greeted us with much better weather, which allowed us to explore the area around Lake Wörthersee. This crystal-clear lake, surrounded by picturesque mountains, was like a balm for our souls after yesterday’s rain. It was exactly what we needed before heading back to Brno. Just under five hours left, and we’d be home.