Navigating a Holiday : Tips, Triumphs, and Lessons Learned

Embracing Adventure, Together

Taking a family holiday is always an adventure, but embarking on a Eurocamp trip to Spain with our autistic 7-year-old and energetic 3-year-old brought a unique blend of excitement, anxiety, and growth.

We learned, adapted, and, most importantly, cherished the journey together. In this blog post, I will share not just our experiences but also some practical tips that helped us manage our days, reduce stress, and foster delightful memories.

Me and my boy!

Planning for Success: Why Preparation Matters

Before our bags were even packed, my wife and I knew that planning would be our best ally. With a neurodivergent child, uncertainty can quickly spiral into overwhelm. So, we mapped out each day with clear intentions, balancing structure with breathing room. Here’s what worked for us:

·        Create a Visual Schedule: We used picture cards and a simple wall chart to lay out each day’s plan: breakfast, swimming, playground, lunch, rest, and so on. Our 7-year-old loves knowing what’s next, and our 3-year-old enjoyed moving the cards herself. This reduced anxiety and gave everyone a sense of control.

·        Limit Transitions: We deliberately planned fewer transitions than we might have on an adults-only holiday. Instead of hopping from one activity to the next, we chose two or three key activities per day, with plenty of downtime in between.

Getting There: The Ups and Downs of Travel

Every trip has its first hurdle: actually leaving home.

Our own journey began with a taxi ride to the airport—bags, snacks, toys, and, of course, the all-important Excel Elise Travel Buggy - Special Needs Pushchair - thetravelbuggycompany.co.uk.

Navigating our local Airport, though, was a trial by fire.

The atmosphere buzzed with impatience; staff seemed unprepared for families with additional needs, and our requests for understanding were met with curt, unyielding responses.

The tension reached its peak at security when a staff member barked at our son to “get out of his buggy,” not recognising the Excel Elise as paediatric equipment.

Fortunately, a single security officer intervened, firmly correcting his colleague—“It’s not a buggy”—and ushered us forward. Relief was short-lived, however, as we then had to coax our 7-year-old through a body scanner, the staff pressing me to “make him stand still.”

For a moment, it felt like compassion had been lost somewhere among the conveyor belts and plastic bins.

But as soon as we boarded our Jet2 flight, the mood shifted entirely.

The crew greeted us with genuine warmth, and somehow, the in-air time became the easiest part of the day. Up among the clouds, our children settled, and unexpected calm filled the cabin.

Landing in Spain was a reversal in every sense.

Clutching our sunflower lanyards, we were not only noticed but welcomed—airport security smiled and waved us through priority lanes, a gesture of recognition and respect.

While the terminal’s narrow, winding corridors proved a challenge and a little non-sensical as priority/disability lanes, without staff in sight, we used the initial staff kindness we’d received to buoy us on.

Soon, we emerged into the Spanish sunshine, ready to begin our adventure at last.

On the Ground: Managing Your Day

We had opted for a Eurocamp Holiday. Mainly for the the mix of space & sense of serenity with the option for busy fun and bustle if you choose.

Eurocamp sites are bustling with options—from swimming pools and kids’ clubs to evening entertainment and beach trips. For many families, this is a playground of possibility.

For us, it was essential to filter the options and go at our own pace.

·        Stick to Routines: Mornings were our golden hours. After breakfast, we went straight to our chosen activity—often the pool, as both kids love water. Keeping this consistent meant fewer negotiations and less confusion.

·        Embrace “Base Camp”: We set up a familiar spot on the site where we’d regroup between activities. It was a safe space for our 7-year-old to decompress and for our 3-year-old to nap or snack.

·        Keep Meals Predictable: While we did try Spanish food, we made sure to have familiar snacks on hand. Sometimes we prepared our own simple meals in the mobile home, which helped avoid mealtime meltdowns.

Explaining the Order of Everything

One of the best strategies we discovered was explaining the order of our day, both verbally and visually.

·        Preview Each Day: Every morning, we sat down together and walked through the day’s plan. We used simple language and looked at our schedule chart. When there was a change (like an extra swim because of rain), we updated the plan together.

·        Use Countdowns: Visual timers or simple countdowns helped ease transitions. “Five more minutes at the playground, then we’ll head to lunch.” This predictability provided comfort.

Avoiding Fixation Pitfalls

Our 7-year-old, like many autistic children, is prone to getting fixated on a favourite activity—whether it’s a particular swing or a specific corner of the pool. We learned to gently guide their attention without confrontation.

·        Offer Choices, Not Ultimatums: “Would you like to try the slide or build a sandcastle after swimming?” Framing options gives a sense of agency and can redirect obsession without a meltdown.

·        Rotate Activities: We alternated between new experiences and old favourites, always returning to a beloved activity so it wasn’t about “leaving forever,” just “coming back later.”

The Power of Working as a Parent Team

None of this would have been possible without my wife and I supporting each other. Teamwork is essential, especially when things go sideways.

·        Divide and Conquer: Sometimes, one parent would take our eldest for a quiet walk while the other wrangled the 3-year-old through a new adventure. This flexibility kept everyone’s stress levels in check.

·        Communicate Openly: We checked in with each other regularly—“How are you feeling? What do you need?”—and adjusted our plans as needed. Sometimes, we swapped roles if one of us needed a breather.

Going with the Flow: Embracing Flexibility

No amount of planning can prepare you for every twist. The key is to accept that things will sometimes unravel—and that’s okay.

·        Let Go of Perfection: We missed a few activities we’d planned, but we gained unplanned magic—like watching the magic of the Mini-golf course water fountain until dark or the almost scientific wonder of lining up numbered plastic toy fish in to number order again and again while sitting on the doorstep of our holiday accommodation.

Letting go of strict expectations made space for genuine joy.

·        Model Calm: Our kids pick up on our emotions. When we rolled with sudden changes, laughed off setbacks, and stayed calm ourselves, our children took their cues from us. Calmness is contagious.

Staying Calm Yourself: The Parent’s Secret Weapon

Even the best-laid plans can be upended by sensory overload, an unexpected rainstorm, or a stubborn refusal to leave the swimming pool. Here’s what helped us stay steady:

·        Take Micro-Breaks: We took turns stepping away, even if just for five minutes of deep breathing or a stroll through the trees.

·        Practice Empathy: When frustrations bubbled, we reminded ourselves that our children weren’t giving us a hard time—they were having a hard time. This shift in perspective diffused tension.

·        Celebrate Small Wins: Every smooth transition, every shared giggle, every peaceful mealtime deserved a quiet cheer. These moments kept us going.

Final Thoughts: Memories Made, Lessons Learned

Travelling with an autistic child and a toddler isn’t always easy, but it’s deeply rewarding. Our Eurocamp holiday to Spain wasn’t just about sun and sand; it was a masterclass in patience, teamwork, and joy in the moment. We returned home with sandy shoes, sun-kissed cheeks, and a trove of memories—some planned, some spontaneous, all cherished.

If you’re considering a similar adventure, remember: prepare, but hold your plans lightly. Let the day flow, support each other, and savour the moments of connection. The rhythm of your family—unique, evolving, and resilient—will be your greatest guide.

Happy travels!

Living With My Autistic 7-Year-Old Son: A Journey of Discovery, Challenge, and Joy

Me and my boy!

Living With My Autistic 7-Year-Old Son: A Journey of Discovery, Challenge, and Joy

Reflections From a Parent's Heart

Seven years ago, my world changed with the arrival of my son—a bright, spirited child who would later be diagnosed as autistic at the early age of 3.

Our journey together has been many things: exhilarating, exhausting, illuminating, and above all, transformative.

I want to share a glimpse into our daily life, the unique joys we experience, the challenges we face, and the profound lessons I’ve learned as a parent.

Everyday Life: Routines, Surprises, and Little Victories

Our days often begin early, as my son finds comfort in predictable routines.

Breakfast is usually the same— ‘Chocolate toast’, with no intention of ever eating the toast – just licking the chocolate 😊- I will never win that argument.

The mood is mostly varied – ‘Good’ Mornings are filled with the sound of his laughter as he watches his favourite episode of ‘The Chase – Celebrity Special’ (its got to be Celebrity – normal people are not as interesting) – ‘Bad’ Mornings, after 7 years, we can spot the tell tale signs a mile off – usually where his mind has been racing in the run-up to the nights sleep, meaning he usually doesn’t sleep, at best getting 2-3hours while instead he roams the house looking to wake up and terrorise his 3 year old brother (just because); or finds some delights from the bathroom to eat, usually toothpaste – opting for the bathroom now, after we have been forced to baby proof the life out of all cupboards in the rest of the house.

The lack of sleep increases the anxiety and stress levels in him, or ‘Spaghetti Brain’ as we like to call it, meaning transitioning from the licking chocolate toast and then on to the next activity – especially on a School morning, frankly awful.

The journey to school, even after a couple of years of doing it, we do try and change tactic – typically he won’t hold hands, he can race off if distressed (or sometimes distracted by a dog), with no sense of danger awareness. If we walk with his younger brother, this can turn the anxiety and stress in to rage that activity each one carefully selected and placed in a precise order.

Transitions can be tricky. Moving from one activity to another often requires patience and creative strategies—timers, visual schedules, sometimes simply a gentle song.

There are days when the world feels overwhelming for him, when the texture of a shirt or the hum of the refrigerator can bring distress.

On those days, we slow down, breathe together, and find solace in quiet spaces – trying to accommodate too many things in 1 day is usually asking for trouble.

Communication: Learning Each Other’s Language

My son communicates in his own way—sometimes with words, often with gestures, always with honesty 😊.

Over the years, I've learned to listen not just with my ears, but with my whole self.

A glance, a hum, or a hand placed softly on my arm can speak volumes.

We celebrate every new word, every attempt at conversation, every shared joke.

Technology has been a wonderful support, with apps and devices helping him express his needs when speech feels out of reach.

Yet, some of our deepest connections happen at the quietest of times: throwing a few stones in to a river or the sea, explaining the precise order of events from morning to night for the next day (and god forbid you don’t stick to it!), or simply sharing a smile across the dinner table.

Challenges: Navigating a World Not Built for Us

There are moments of frustration—his and mine.

Public spaces can be daunting, filled with unfamiliar sounds, sights, and expectations.

Explaining autism to others, advocating for understanding at school or in the community, can be draining at times.

Yet, I’ve discovered a deep well of resilience in both of us. Every challenge is an opportunity to grow, adapt, and find unexpected solutions.

We’ve become experts at celebrating progress in all its forms, no matter how small.

Joy: The Bright Spots That Light Our Path

There is so much joy in our everyday life.

The sparkle in his eyes when he’s learning something new, the infectious laughter that erupts during a favourite cartoon, the way he hugs me tightly when words aren’t enough.

My son’s passions are contagious.

His encyclopedic knowledge of the kids cartoon Bing Bunny, his love for dogs and ducks, his delight in music, especially ‘movement breaks’ songs for kids like Danny Go! — all of these enrich my understanding of his world.

Our home is a place of acceptance and love, where quirks are celebrated and differences make us stronger.

Lessons Learned: Unconditional Love and Shifting Perspectives

Parenting an autistic child has taught me to let go of expectations and embrace the present.

I’ve become more patient (certainly still more room for manoeuvre), more compassionate, and more attuned to the small wonders that might otherwise go unnoticed.

I’ve learned the importance of advocating fiercely for my son, while also maintaining the space for him to be his authentic self.

Above all, I’ve learned that love does not require words, and that the greatest gifts can come in the most unexpected forms.

Final Thoughts

Living with my autistic 7-year-old son is an ever-evolving journey—one that challenges me daily, but rewards me with indescribable joy. For anyone walking a similar path, know that you are not alone, and that every child’s way of being in the world is precious. Together, we can build a more understanding and inclusive world, one small act of empathy at a time.