Jakarta is close — a short flight, familiar food, and a city many of us have passed through without much thought.
But for our little family, it marked a quiet milestone, becoming the destination for Rafael’s first overseas trip and our first real glimpse into what travelling looks like now that we are parents.
Technically, Jakarta wasn’t Rafael’s first time on a plane.
His maiden flight was a short trip to Miri when he was just four months old.
That trip, in hindsight, felt like a walk in the park.
At four months, he wasn’t very mobile.
He slept easily, stayed where we placed him, and was blissfully unaware of his surroundings.
That trip was manageable, and we congratulated ourselves for “doing well” with a baby.
Jakarta quickly humbled us.
Rafael is older now — more alert, more expressive, and far more mobile.
He can crawl confidently, has been practising pulling himself up, and knows how to sit back down with determination.
He is curious by nature, and that curiosity has only intensified.
He wants to see everything, touch everything, and observe everyone.
New environments don’t tire him out; they energise him.
That curiosity made this trip both exciting and exhausting.
Nap times became negotiations.
He fought sleep because there was simply too much to see.
Hotel corridors, unfamiliar ceilings, the hum of traffic outside, voices he didn’t recognise — everything demanded his attention.
Even when he was clearly tired, he resisted closing his eyes, determined not to miss a thing.
It was endearing, but it meant our days moved even more slowly than expected.
Our outings revolved entirely around his schedule.
Not what we wanted to see, but what he could tolerate.
Not how far we could go, but how quickly we could get back to the hotel.
Travel, for us, was no longer about maximising experiences; it was about managing energy — his and ours.
However, seeing the world through Rafael’s constantly observant eyes added an unexpected layer of joy to the trip.
He observed strangers with fascination, studied faces intently, reacted to different tones of voice, and seemed especially intrigued by the constant movement around him.
He was happiest when we kept moving, and once we stopped for too long, he grew restless.
This made mealtimes less about eating and more about strategy.
We ate quickly and often in shifts, always prepared to abandon plates halfway through if he grew restless.
A proper sit-down meal felt like an achievement.
As much as we had planned to do some shopping during this trip, it quickly became clear that “shopping” meant something very different now.
What we had imagined as browsing malls turned into window shopping at best.
More often than not, we found ourselves stopping by baby shops instead, picking up toys and books just to keep Rafael entertained.
Since we don’t give him screen time, we relied heavily on rotating toys and anything that could capture his attention, even briefly.
Each new toy bought us a few precious minutes.
By nightfall, Jakarta — a city known for coming alive after dark — became something we experienced only through hotel windows.
Rafael’s bedtime is usually between 6.30pm and 7.30pm, and once he’s asleep, the day ends.
Our evenings were spent quietly in the hotel room: lights dimmed, takeaway food on the table, conversations reduced to whispers.
While the city buzzed outside, our world narrowed to that one room.
There were moments, inevitably, when my husband and I reminisced about our childfree travel days.
The freedom, the spontaneity, the long dinners and late-night walks.
We missed being able to step out on a whim and explore simply because we felt like it.
But even in those moments, neither of us wished Rafael wasn’t there.
Because having him with us grounded everything.
Watching him adapt to a new environment, fall asleep in an unfamiliar place, and wake up curious rather than unsettled reminded us that this season, challenging as it is, is also fleeting.
He may not remember Jakarta, but we will remember Jakarta with him.
My husband feels strongly about this.
He wants Rafael to travel as much as possible, even if it means slower trips and fewer activities.
His own first overseas experience wasn’t for leisure — it was work-related training at the age of 26.
Travel, for him, came late, structured, and purposeful.
There were no childhood trips, no early exposure to different places and cultures.
Now, as a father, he wants something different for his son.
He wants Rafael to grow up comfortable with movement and change, to see new places as familiar rather than intimidating.
Even if Rafael won’t remember these early trips, my husband believes they matter.
Jakarta wasn’t about seeing everything.
It was about seeing how we travel now.
It taught us patience, flexibility, and the importance of adjusting expectations.
Travel, we realised, isn’t worse with a baby; it’s simply different.
We came home more tired than rested, but also more confident.
If we could manage an overseas trip with naps, bedtime routines, and a crawling baby who refuses to sleep because the world is too interesting, then perhaps the next destination won’t feel as daunting.
Jakarta may have been near, but for our family, it was a meaningful step.
It was proof that while our travel style has changed, our desire to explore hasn’t disappeared.
It has simply learned to slow down, adapt, and move at Rafael’s pace.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at sarahhafizahchandra@gmail.com.
