Australia can wait. Germany now.

A day of packing, nerves and anxiety, followed by an almost sleepless night. Does every mother fret like this on the eve of a big trip with her children, without her husband? I know I do. An epic trip, the travel within the travel of this trip - my children meet my grandmother. A life- achievement by the end of the day.

Pre-dawn moulding of small boys limbs into their clothes (selected to match eachother and me, plus travel well), taxi to Cork airport, and away to London Stansted.

My first time in a cheap airport: how long will it take to get through one set of customs and on to the next plane? Will my odd paperwork be a problem, as I'm not registered in Ireland, and I should be, according to the police and Immigration there? What could go wrong? How can I keep myself and these two small boys moving through the day? Can I make the switch to German again, now with them holding me in English as well?

Then Munich. I get a strange feeling as if this is the real start of my trip - as on so many trips my whole life long, I've come into Munich. This is familiar, my family, my roots. And the immigration guy asks me at the end, all friendly - why are you travelling with these boys who do not have your name? Could he please see the authorisation that I may do so? Digging out my marriage certificate to prove they are my lawful children, this is just German properness...there are rules, you must know that we know them, and we must be seen to be doing it all the right way...Goddamm. I had packed all the papers, so I expected it really, didn't I?

And now it's all new, talking to my boys, listening to all the Germans on the S-Bahn - on the way back from summer holidays in Sweden, China, the world. I'm eyes and ears, and memory lane, can barely speak for the flashbacks of other times I've made this trip, other times I've stepped off at Gauting, other times my grandmother is standing there as if she did this every other week!

And it's summer at last - we wear t-shirts, without singlets under or jumpers over, the whole day long. Lovely family days, remembering things past, family traits. Also crafting new days - now that I'm moving about with children of my own. An age watching the Bean swing on the rings in my uncle's garden, fabulous, what muscles, what meaning in a simple sunny afternoon!

The Bean gets to spend E35 on Schleich toys, agonising, enjoying the selecting for an HOUR, yes!, in the toy shop on the Stachus. The Pumpkin invents an elaborate game with my aunt, involving pegging all the clothes pegs on one of her potplants - and then pegging Christmas decorations, leaves, Easter eggs to the tree!