• 1
• 2
• 3

When my husband envisioned a family summer in Europe, it fell on me to make it happen.

While he imagined sophisticated city tours, long walks in high mountains, and short stays in remote, unspoiled villages, I wondered how to avoid bland tourist hotels, traveler's burnout, and bored children.

So I armed myself with high-speed cable access to the Internet and a shelf of travel guides from my local library. By paying attention to the advice of well-traveled experts, I saved us time, money, and logistical hassles. We zeroed in on the best of Europe, thoroughly enjoyed ourselves, and rarely met with the sullen stares of preteens.

It seems that when it comes to travel, research pays. But I will also say that soon after we departed for our European adventure I discovered the first of several lessons in what the travel guides did not tell me.

Definitely take along a rolling suitcase

We succeeded in packing light, although I know now that I could pack even lighter. But when it came to choosing a bag for the trip I faced somewhat of an identity crisis.

As a typical baby-boomer I have an attic filled with backpacking equipment from the American wilderness experiences and summer treks in Europe of my former life (which could also be referred to as my youth).

I know the "I-can-go-anywhere" glee that comes when one's home is on one's back and one's hands are free to embrace the wonder of it all. And, also typically, I wanted my children to have that experience, too.

So they, too, discovered how sweaty their backs became from walking just a few city blocks. They, too, now know the difficulty of stuffing unwieldy shapes into the trunks of compact trunk spaces and overhead train luggage compartments. And I haven't even mentioned all those dangling straps. On the day before our departure, my smart, well-traveled husband simply asked, "Are we sleeping outdoors on this trip?" Learning otherwise, he chose to bring along the tried-and-true rolling black carry-on suitcases that accompanies him on all his trips.

For me this did not convey the romance of a backpack. Plus I had been warned that those wheeled suitcases don't roll on all those cobblestone streets in quaint areas of villages and cities. So when I found a "convertible" suitcase that doubled as a backpack and an over-the-shoulder bag (respectable in nicer city hotels, according to its advertiser) I thought I had found the perfect solution. Big mistake! I rued my choice as soon as I hoisted it out of our car and hauled it to the checkout counter at our local airport. This bag, for all its cleverness, had neither the comfort of a backpack designed by technicians or the ease of rolling luggage. I complained all through customs at Gatwick airport to King's Cross Station, and then laughed heartily at a London Times satirical piece on all of the practical, wholly unstylish travel items American catalogs tout these days.

Throughout Great Britain and the Continent I gave periodic bulletins on how often (never) we encountered cobblestone streets where my husband would find it necessary to carry his suitcase. By the time we reached the car-free villages of Switzerland, I was rolling his suitcase while he served as my pack mule.

So, don't take a backpack unless you will actually be tenting in the outdoors. Go ahead and outfit everyone in the family with a carry-on rolling bag. You'll still manage at least a one-arm embrace.