Mauritius is a paradise. But let´s start from the beginning...

From Europe it takes more than 15 hours to get there. If you survive the first few hours of check-ins, queues, transfers and check-ins again you and successfully get on board, you can look forward to an overnight flight, where you can put your little baby into a cosy cot, enjoy your three-course dinner and then muffle up together in a blanket and watch a romance while sharing your headphones.

Well, you surely can do that, unless you breastfeed your baby, she sleeps only in a wrap or in your arms and unless exceeds the weight limit of the cot. While the other couple sitting next to us put their little baby girl to sleep right after take-off, ordered sparkling wine and genteelly nibbled their steamed salmon while giggling under that damn duvet, I was out of myself!

With the baby wrapped on the chest and her legs sticking out to the sides, it is almost impossible to fit in that low cost seats, not talking about the special “parental“ seat with fixed solid armrests. Not only that your functional width has been doubled by that time, you cannot even kick out daddy and use both seats for yourself. Damn!

When you eventually sit down, with your snoozing little one still hanging in the sling (no, not in ergonomic position, you´re right) you find out the child´s seatbelt must be fastened and she must be facing forward (!). That´s impossible. Damn!

Finally you manage. You fit your butt in, you find where to put your elbows and not get gangrene while holding your sleeping beauty, you don´t need to pee and… And they start serving dinner. Damn!

While your fellow travellers are finishing their dessert, you still haven´t found a way how to hold the tray (where there´s supposed to be a table, there´s now her snoring head) and open the aluminium crap with lasagne. All with one hand. Before you get in, they´re coming with the trash bins. You´d love to have a coffee and a glass of wine, but you´re not there yet, honey. That needs skills! But don´t worry, by sunrise you´ll get there.

You need to change your arm, but there´s no way, how to do it. You need to stretch your legs, but you know that the little change in your thighs´ tonus could wake her up. So you just breathe, pray for the morning and from time to time you jealously ask yourself if that fluffy cot next to you is ever going to move again.

The night is long, but at the end of the day you know all this is worth it. Not just the trip to paradise, but the journey you take with your little one. When you know there will never be a cot that could replace your arms or a pacifier that could replace your breasts, you know you can survive any flight.


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