The End of the Road

In the end, we decided to cut our trip short by about two to three months. It wasn’t just one thing, but rather a combination of factors. Originally, we had planned to spend two months in China. However, since the visa-free stay is only 30 days, we would have had to apply for visas while in Vietnam. After looking into the requirements—a $25 processing fee, a $50 visa fee per person, payable only in pristine, brand-new US dollar bills… and there we were in Vietnam, with absolutely no USD on us, facing the prospect of hunting down currency exchange at local jewelry shops—it just felt like way too much hassle and money for a gamble. There was no guarantee the immigration officer would even approve a two-month stay; they could have easily just given us 30 days anyway. So, we decided not to push our luck. On top of that, geopolitical developments kept shifting our plans. We must have changed our route and destinations a dozen times trying to make the logistics work. Ultimately, skyrocketing airfares made it clear we needed to minimize our flights. Plus, the cost and availability of accommodation in places like South Korea, Japan, Taiwan, and Hong Kong didn’t fit our budget, so we ruled out any extended stays there. Long story short, we just looked up the cheapest flights we could find and mapped out our journey back home based on that.

On Friday, May 15th, we set our alarm for 3:00 AM for the very last time. What an awful hour to wake up. And of course, as usual, getting an early night was out of the question. Simeon has this uncanny superpower to sense when a night is actually important, and he absolutely refuses to cooperate. Instead, he goes wild. I battled with him for a long time, probably until 11:00 PM. Not that it mattered, because I was too anxious to sleep anyway. My mind was racing. We couldn’t pre-book taxis, so I was stressing out: Would there be rides available in the morning? Would we make it to the airport on time? Would our bags be overweight? How would little Simeon handle such a long travel day? What if our luggage got lost? By 2:30 AM, I gave up, got out of bed, made breakfast, packed the last few items, and at 3:00 AM, I started waking up the kids. I wanted to leave the apartment in decent shape, so I did some quick cleaning and took out the trash. Our host was supposed to come by at 4:00 AM to return our deposit, but of course, she flaked and just messaged saying she’d transfer the money to our account instead. Since there were no larger vans available in Almaty, we had to order two sedan taxis, which we barely squeezed into. Off we went to the airport. There was no traffic at that hour, so we made it in about thirty minutes. Checking our bags was a breeze. None of us had any contraband, so security went smoothly. Then, the waiting game began. Johnny wandered around the airport with the kids, bought two bizarre stuffed buns for the little ones at a whopping €8 each, and found a play area that cost €5 per kid. Our flight was delayed, so when boarding was supposed to start, we were just staring anxiously at an empty gate desk. Luckily, the delay was only about 30 minutes. We flew with AJet, a Turkish low-cost carrier—basically the equivalent of Wizz Air or Spirit—so I knew exactly what to expect. I had stocked up on snacks because I knew someone would inevitably start whining about being hungry. I also pre-downloaded a bunch of movies on the phones to prevent any catastrophic boredom. Thankfully, Simeon slept through the second half of the flight, so it was peaceful. Still, that six-hour flight felt absolutely endless. We did get a bit of entertainment, though, from an elderly gentleman who genuinely thought no one would notice him smoking in the lavatory. The second he stepped out, a massive cloud of cigarette smoke followed him. A flight attendant immediately stopped him and gave him a stern talking-to. After that, they were doing something in the bathroom that sounded like they were discharging a fire extinguisher, though we couldn’t see exactly what was happening.

We had a layover in Ankara. While we were still sitting on the plane, we watched the baggage handlers loading suitcases onto the luggage cart. They were throwing those bags around like the Undertaker throwing Mankind in ‘98. When I saw them rip the barcode sticker clean off one of the bags, my stomach sank. I literally went through a mental ‘Sophie’s Choice’ scenario, trying to decide which of our suitcases I could live without.

The transit area of the Ankara airport was tiny and didn’t have much to offer. The only hot food available was an €18 burger. At least we saved some money on water by refilling our bottles at a drinking fountain. The little ones found a small playground right near our gate, where they ran wild to burn off some of that pent-up energy from sitting so long. That’s how we killed four hours. Even though we were indoors, it felt like being in a park. They had planted trees to make the space nicer, but that also meant there were brazen pigeons everywhere, hovering for any crumb a traveler might drop. As little Arthur had wisely pointed out back in Almaty, ‘Where there’s one pigeon, there are a thousand!’ and those words proved entirely true inside the terminal. We were even a bit on edge standing in line at the gate while a flock of birds circled overhead. One was perched high up in an alcove like some powerful ruler surveying his kingdom, and we couldn’t help but wonder if he was going to leave us a parting ‘stamp’ on our passports.

Our final flight was only about three hours. The kids already had their minds set on being home and were incredibly impatient to land. Naturally, the entire flight was a chorus of ‘Are we there yet?’ I tried to get a little sleep, but every single time I managed to drift off, a little voice in the background would yank me back to reality with a ‘Mommyyyyy…’ Needless to say, getting any rest was a lost cause.

Once we landed in Vienna, everything went super fast. We breezed through passport control, and by the time we reached the baggage carousel, our bags were already there. We grabbed them and ran for the bus terminal. On the way, I tried to buy our bus tickets online. Slovak Lines had a departure that lined up perfectly with our schedule, so I ordered six tickets through their app. But of course, technology failed me, and I got an error message saying the payment didn’t go through. I went through the whole process again, and the second time it worked. The bus was practically empty, so we didn’t have to stress about finding seats. But while on the bus, I checked my email and realized the first payment had actually gone through after all, as I had two sets of tickets. Yay for double-paying! At least it gave me something to do on the ride—writing a lovely email to customer support.

In Bratislava, we just had one last leg of the journey: the tram. Luckily, we could buy our tickets at the machine with a card, since we didn’t have a single cent of cash on us. Sitting on the tram, hearing nothing but Slovak around us was surreal. It felt so weird to suddenly understand every single conversation.

Hooray, we survived an incredibly long day! The kids were absolute champs. We finally made it home, where my parents were waiting for us (since we didn’t have our keys). We were so incredibly happy to see them. Not only because we had missed them terribly after being away for so long, but also because my amazing mom had prepared an absolute feast for us to devour, exhausted and starving as we were.

I couldn’t wait to show them our appreciation by giving them the gifts we brought back. But the moment I opened the suitcase, my heart sank. A bottle of Kazakh dish soap—nearly half a liter of the stuff, which I’d bought by mistake—had completely exploded inside. I had meticulously packed every other liquid in ziplock bags, but somehow completely overlooked this stupid bottle. Everything in the suitcase, including the gifts, was coated in bright pink, pomegranate-scented slime. I wanted to cry. Instead of relaxing, I had to deal with this mess. I can only assume that during that ‘tender’ baggage handling in Turkey, the cap popped off, letting the soap run wild into every single nook and cranny. To make matters worse, we discovered that the plaster dinosaur Arthur had been carrying since the middle of Vietnam—which had survived multiple flights—had been decapitated. Cue the loud, dramatic tears from Arthur, making sure we all deeply felt the gravity of this tragedy.

We were finally back home after nearly six months away. The weather, however, didn’t exactly roll out the red carpet. A gloomy, overcast sky painted the entire city in a depressing shade of gray. It wasn’t a total shock—we’d been chasing gray skies since Hanoi—but it was still a bit of a letdown. In my mind, returning in the warmer months was supposed to be sunny and beautiful. Suddenly, we were standing in our own apartment, and it felt strangely foreign. I couldn’t even remember where I had put things or how I’d left the place before we departed. And our cats? They couldn’t care less. Both furballs just retreated to their usual spots, completely ignoring us. They were definitely holding a grudge for us leaving them for so long. But the worst part was the looming mountain of cleaning—something I had happily forgotten existed over the past few months. Just thinking about having to wash, unpack, scrub, and tidy everything instead of resting brought on a tiny cloud of depression.

Looking Back

We chose our destinations very intentionally, focusing on places we knew would be safe and budget-friendly. We also timed our trip to avoid extreme heat or cold, so the weather was pretty much perfect everywhere we went. But if there’s one thing that made or broke our experience in any given place, it was the location. Choosing the right neighborhood is absolutely key. In that department, we got incredibly lucky. The areas we stayed in always turned out to be the absolute best fit for our family. Location, people, food, and weather—those were the four pillars of our happiness on this trip. The absolute sweetest people were in Bali. As we traveled further north, people got a bit more reserved, but we never had any real issues. No one was ever rude, unpleasant, or aggressive. But if I had to pick the one country where we felt the happiest and most content, hands down, it was Vietnam.

I am so incredibly glad we took the leap. It completely lived up to our hopes of spending quality time together. It brought us closer and made us stronger as a family. I truly believe our relationships have improved, and we understand each other so much better now. We all pushed past our comfort zones. Leo grew so much more confident talking to strangers and was incredibly independent the whole time, never afraid to head out and explore on his own. Matyas loosened up and let go of his usual resistance to new things; his mind opened up, and he’s now willing to try new experiences, even if they might not turn out perfect. Little Arthur lost his shyness around strangers and actually started speaking English. Even Simeon stopped being a little anti-social homebody and started interacting with other kids and occasionally even adults. As for me, I got to break free from the daily grind and finally had a few months where I didn’t have to worry about running a household.

But what we missed most on this journey was all of you! A huge thank you to Bobo for coming to visit us, even if just for a little while. It meant the world to all of us.

I also want to thank everyone who took the time to read my long-winded updates. I hope I didn’t bore you to death and that you found something interesting or useful in our stories.

And, of course, a massive thank you to our cat-sitters. Especially my incredibly dedicated parents, who, except for a three-week break, came over every single day for months to take care of our fur babies. We literally couldn’t have done this without you.

I’m a little sad that our adventure is coming to an end. But I’m also so excited to see family and friends, enjoy a clean apartment, drink tap water without thinking twice, and finally have a break from constant travel. I’m going to miss Asia terribly, and I really hope we’ll be back soon—even if it’s for a shorter trip next time.