Articles > Baby's First European Break

Maya was playing it cool. She may have been embarking on her first ever family holiday and about to take off to her first ever overseas trip but, aside from some nonchalant gurgling, she seemed happy to snooze through the safety demonstration, only opening an inquisitive eye upon touchdown in Salzburg.

Taking a holiday with a five-month-old baby could be an operation slightly more demanding than the storming of Kabul, but as she freewheeled through arrivals in a fold-away buggy, grinning at the Mozart memorabilia as part of this year’s festival to celebrate the composer’s 250th birthday, Maya was taking to this travel lark like a natural-born globetrotter. Better still for her parents, who needed a holiday more than usual, the experience was proving – so far - relatively stress free.

We opted for the two-hour hop to Austria to try a long weekend at a Kinderhotel, the chain of family-friendly hotels with facilities tailored specifically to parents and their children. The concept is the brainchild of Siggi Neuschitzer, who decided to move the family hotel business away from wellness breaks for pensioners and throw his hotel open to toddlers and their terminally fatigued parents. The move from false teeth to baby teeth proved a smart one and the avuncular Siggi now oversees a group of 25 Kinderhotel across Austria, welcoming over 120,000 families per year from Switzerland, Germany and Austria.

The hotels are located in rustic Austrian backwaters but are accessible via low-cost airline connections from airports around England and from Dublin. There is generally a one to two hour transfer upon arrival. Facilities vary between the properties, from swimming pools and spas to farms and winter ski schools, but the free-of-charge childcare until 8.30pm nightly is a standard feature. Better still, to avoid having to negotiate a small mountain of equipment through check-in, much of the essential baby and toddler kit is provided free of charge.

The base for our stay was Europe’s number one Baby & Kinderhotel, a 90-minute transfer from Salzburg and nestled among the lakes and mountains of Carinthia, Austria’s southernmost province (and one blessed with a Mediterranean-style climate). The original property in the group, the sprawling hotel complex and grounds feel like a cross between a family resort and a children’s summer camp with a tag team of trained staff on hand and a daily programme of activities for both adults and children.

Arriving around lunchtime, we find a slightly incongruous but grinning plastic kangaroo standing guard over the play area and toddlers clambering over a bright-red car parked permanently in the reception area. Our room, a Josef family room, was comfortable, if a little small for a whole family, with an annex for children behind a hefty curtain, which was described euphemistically by Siggi as “for young marrieds to enjoy themselves.”

The meals are included in the package and served in a canteen-style dining hall with buffet breakfasts and evening meals, plus plenty of vegetarian options. The quality is good overall, although some of the school dinner-reminiscent lunches and kids meals would probably not cut the mustard with critical tastebuds of Jamie Oliver.

The next morning at breakfast, a photocopied sheet on our table lists the activities for the day ahead. The twin swimming pools and play facilities are free to use, but classes are extra and charged at around 10 euros (£7) each, plus treatments at the spa start from around 25 euros (£17) for a basic massage.

First up: baby swimming with Maya strapped to a giant rubber ring and me struggling to follow the sing-along in German, while a large Austrian women pours water over our heads from a plastic watering can. Still, Maya loved it, taking to her first swimming class like a true water baby and babbling happily through the multi-lingual instructions.

With Maya then heading to the creche and my wife to the spa, it was time for me to try some mid-morning exercise. The adult classes promised Nordic walking with Arnold and I duly signed up, my head filled, as I pulled on my trainers, with visions of striding through the Alpine pastures and filling my lungs with fresh Austrian air.

But Arnold is waiting in reception with a stern look. Not only was I late, but my quip about a resemblance to a certain Mr Schwarzenegger fell on deaf ears. A strapping man with a major sense of humour bypass, Arnold clearly regards walking as far more than just moving your feet in a vaguely coordinated way. “Nordic walking,” he informs the small group with the air of a man who knows how to handle his walking poles, “was invented by Finnish skiers to keep in shape during the snow-free summer.”

“Swing ze arms,” he barks and strides off into the Corinthian countryside, poles bobbing beside him like two excited puppies. One hour later, we’ve established that the scenery is indeed superb but my Nordic walking technique is sorely lacking. “Your problem,” Arnold chastises me without a hint of irony, “is that your arms are just too short.”

Back at the hotel I spend the afternoon trying to relax and practicing some furtive arm-stretching exercises, while Maya holds court over her Euro-toddler subjects from her new throne in the reading room. By nightfall, when the children are all tucked up dreaming of giant Austrian kangaroos, the parents are to be found propping up the bar downstairs, the crisp still of the night air broken only by the sound of ringing phones -- all the rooms are fitted with a telephone alarm system, whereby your portable handset rings when your child is crying.

The Kinderhotel is a great concept, but more information in English would be a welcome addition, as would more English spoken by childcare staff, especially as the group is keen to now expand into the UK market.

On the last afternoon, when parents and children settled down for a puppet show conducted all in German, the British kids, vexed by not being able to follow the story, vented their frustration on the puppets. Forget a tough audience at the Edinburgh Fringe -- there’s no uglier spectacle than a room full of toddlers ganging up on a three-inch puppet.

But Maya was playing it cool again. Having taken flights, transfers, swim classes and foreign puppet shows all in her stride, she had leaned to glide calmly through her first travel experience, while we as parents had learned that holidays and babies are not mutually exclusive concepts.

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