Young children’s idea of travel is like that of those odd tourists who go hundreds or thousands of miles and seek out the local McDonald’s. My family and I appear to be on a wonderful tour of the Pacific Northwest’s playgrounds.
We compromise, of course, and there are surprises. Yesterday we went to Butchart Gardens outside Victoria because Joy and I wanted to. We figured Mookie would enjoy it all right, but we thought it would only rate about a 5 in her book. That was before she fell in love with the map. Since seeing the map of the grounds, she has wanted to do almost nothing else but examine it, mutter over it, plot routes on it, find all the ice cream shops on it (turns out there are three at the gardens) . . . I want to spend some solid time in the Vancouver Art Gallery, and I wonder if its map will be enticing enough to make that a fun stop for a five-year-old.