Then came Australia, which quickly became the heart of the trip. We based ourselves first in Brisbane, staying at The Calile—an architectural gem that’s as photogenic as it is comfortable—and spending our days feeding kangaroos and spotting platypuses at the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary. From there, we ferried to Stradbroke Island for a Bajara (Yura) Tour led by Elisha Kissick, who turned the experience into a masterclass in storytelling. And she even helped us spot the migrating whales jumping out of the ocean, a wild koala with a baby, and a kangaroo.
After the full days in Brisbane, the Gold Coast gave us a chance to slow down. At the new Mondrian Gold Coast, we gave ourselves permission to breathe. We lounged at Burleigh Pavilion, took in ocean views, and joined the Jellurgal Little Explorers walk—a guided Aboriginal experience that included learning to make paint from the rock.
Of course, three weeks of near-constant togetherness eventually caught up with us. By the end of that stretch, we were all a little frayed, so we each took solo beach walks, regrouped, and remembered that rest is as essential to family travel as any bucket-list sight.
Our final stop in Australia was Spicers Hidden Vale, a rustic-luxury lodge surrounded by rolling hills. Ross mountain-biked through the property while Wilder and I joined the animal feeding and market garden tours. It was peaceful, grounded, and restorative—exactly the pause we needed before crossing another sea. Bonus: kangaroos roamed freely outside our little cabin.
And then, finally, New Zealand. We started in Auckland, hitting the city highlights: Sky Tower, the All Blacks Experience (which I expected to be kitschy but turned out to be brilliant), and dinner at Metita, where we toasted Wilder’s sixth continent with mocktails and New Zealand pinot. From there, we drove north, stopping at Sheepworld—because no seven-year-old can resist baby animals—before spending our last days at Te Arai Links, a breathtaking coastal resort where we surfed, golfed, and wandered barefoot between meals.
The Low Points
Even the smoothest itineraries have meltdowns. Ours came mostly via jet lag. Wilder slept through an entire lunch at Raffles, oblivious to the art deco glamour around him, and during our first food tour in Singapore, Ross carried him—dead weight, snoring—in the 90-degree heat while our guide gamely described chili sauces. There were moments of collective irritability, especially mid-trip, when we’d been in close quarters for too long.
Also, Ross and I picked up head colds for a couple of days, which made things a little more uncomfortable, but luckily not unbearable. But we learned to read each other’s signals: when someone needed space, we gave it, and when someone needed an ice-cream, we stopped immediately.
Wins We didn’t Expect
Every trip has that one unexpected, luminous moment that becomes its emotional centerpiece. For me, it happened in New Zealand. I’d always dreamed of seeing the famous glowworm caves at Waitomo, so we made the four-hour round-trip drive to do it. However, the tour was brief, overly lit, and strangely unmagical. I was crushed.
