We didn’t really travel much as a family when I was a kid. I do, however, remember a few summer weekend outings spent in Montauk or the Poconos, renting out a group of motel rooms with other family friends and their children. It didn’t really matter where we were, really. It was all about hanging out with friends, like on a really long playdate, and a break from routine and everyday life.
These trips sometimes remind me of those childhood vacations full of families and kids. It’s one sort of vacation when you go to a place as a tourist not knowing anyone, but it’s another trip altogether when you spend it with a family who make the place home, no matter how many times you’ve been there. It’s a different, and I would say, more meaningful experience.