When magazine editor Juliet Herd took up her adult offspring’s invitation to join them on a trip to Egypt, she hadn’t anticipated how much it would reshape their relationship – and deepen their bond.
‘I went travelling with my grown-up daughters (and yes, they paid their way!)’
Watching Georgia and Eli haggle mercilessly with a group of men over the price of a taxi to Old Cairo was the moment I fully realised what strong, independent young women they had become – and how our relationship had changed from that of carer and dependants, to equals on an exciting new journey of discovery. It’s a shift I’ve seen in friends and their children, and here was my very own – happening just as I was experiencing my own newly charged wanderlust. I stood back and observed with a mix of awe and pride as they negotiated a fee before we piled into the driver’s rust bucket and sped – limits exist to be broken in Cairo, as we quickly discovered – towards our destination.
Amazingly, it was our first family holiday together in nearly a decade, and in the intervening years, my girls had grown up. Travelling with adult children is a whole different experience, and one that I can’t recommend enough, particularly when, for the first time, the playing field is level. They weren’t relying on me to organise – or pay – for everything. In fact, they took charge, so confidently and authoritatively, that this new dimension to our relationship seemed entirely natural. And it had taken a much-anticipated overseas trip to realise it.
Their excitement, energy and willingness to embrace everything the city and its warm-hearted people had to offer were infectious. They made me feel young again: got me riding a camel, rising at dawn for excursions, and would have had me paragliding over the pyramids if it hadn’t been off-season. They struck up easy conversations with everyone from Tuk Tuk drivers and market stall holders to students in the mosque.
It wasn’t exactly a role reversal, more a recalibration, a coming together as equals outside our usual comfort zone. I felt a sense of relief at being able to relinquish some of my mother hen status, particularly in a place as crazy as Cairo, where you took your life in your hands crossing the road. The irony was not lost on me that it was my daughters who were now acting protectively – shepherding me through the traffic and the labyrinthine Khan el-Khalili souk.
The impetus for the trip was the Marakez Pyramids half marathon in Giza that my sporty daughters and a friend had signed up for. An exhilarating event involving 10,000 runners from 120 countries, it gave a focus to the holiday, around which we built an action-packed itinerary. We set up a WhatsApp group, and it was soon pinging with ideas. While I secured tickets for the newly opened, spectacular Grand Egyptian Museum, the three girls dived into TikTok, finding hidden boutiques and cool cafes in Old Cairo, adventure tours and even a bougie brunch experience at the Giza pyramids. One influencer account (@thisisndamu) offered essential tips, including booking excursions on arrival rather than in advance to avoid being scammed, dressing modestly (“Mum, no revealing tops”, Eli, 29, jokingly cautioned), opting for Ubers instead of rogue taxis, bringing US dollars to pay for entry visas, and pre-purchasing travel or e-sims.
Sharing responsibilities and costs happened organically. The eldest Georgia, who is 33, sorted accommodation for the first few nights at a no-frills place near the race (her sister later negotiated a complimentary car and driver for a day – “leave this to me, Mum” – in compensation for no hot water). I checked us in to the ritzier Kempinski Nile hotel for our last night.
The girls took charge of Ubers and Google maps as we navigated Cairo’s bustling streets (we felt safer carrying our phones there than in London) and I supplemented their meagre ‘carry-on’ wardrobes with my own. If I fretted about anything, they reminded me to “chill” and “go with the flow”. By the end of our trip, their spontaneity had rubbed off. I can’t remember the last time I laughed as much.
What started as a bit of a lark hooked to a sporting event, evolved into something more: an invaluable bonding experience. I returned with a new-found respect for my daughters – their maturity, savviness, generosity and good company. In turn, I hope they realised that travelling with their Mum could be fun.
