Cultural Pickle

Maybe it had all been a bit too much for poor baby Pickle?  We had certainly put him through a lot in a short amount of time.  There had been international flights, cold weather, train trips and constant sensory overload.  Still, he had seemed to enjoy it all.  Whenever we tried to lower him down on the pram to rest, he would start to scream and cry.  He was only happy when sat up, looking around at everything and enjoying all the sights and sounds.  Each day provided new and wonderful experiences for him and he seemed to be enthralled by it all.  When we went to sleep, there was very little fussing and would sleep quickly and well.

It was far more fun than I expected to take him from museum to gallery to cultural site.  From a personal life experience point of view, it was also a wild ride. I don't think I could ever forget being inside some of the great museums of the world, full of priceless pieces of art, the best humanity could offer, all whilst desperately trying to change Pickle's full diaper without getting it all over myself. 

At each stop, we would place Pickle near or in front of one of the more famed pieces of art or attractions.  I'm sure if Picasso's message in Guernica got through to him, but how would I know unless I gave him the chance to see it?  

Pickle's curiosity was constantly apparent.  He was just an infant, but his eyes were darting around.  I hoped that he would find the world to be a wonderful place, full of things to find and explore.  This would just be the beginning of it all. 

 

After our exploration and visits, baby Pickle normally fell asleep.  The cobblestones of Europe seemed to always ensure he quickly fell asleep.  For myself and Veronica, it was a comfort as well, knowing that the simple act of going for a walk would be able to sooth him.

He wouldn't remember any of this.  That was a bit of a shame.  But we would have these incredible memories with him, and he now already boasted a travel photo album that most could only dream of.