I’ve been eaten alive by blackflies in Newfoundland and faced dehydration in the Australian Outback, but right now it’s the baby kicking my ass. Two years ago, at four months pregnant, I struggled to summit a minor hill in Scotland’s Outer Hebrides. My body was already working as hard as a mountain climber’s on the inside; the semi-steep hike was forcing it to do double-duty, and I didn’t even have a Snickers bar handy.

I thought it would get easier after my son was born. Babies are portable, right? Just strap him in a snazzy carrier and troop up any mountain you like. But the life of an outdoorsperson looks a whole lot different when even going for a run involves night-before planning and an intimate relationship with an alarm clock. And, I realized recently while planning hikes for our vacation in Montana in August, there’s a limit to how vertical your mountain scrambles can get when you’ve got a 30-pound toddler strapped on your back.

When the logistics of adventuring with a baby really come home, it’s easy to look back on your energetic outdoor past as simply that: the past. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Sometimes, the more adventurous the traveler, the more independent the adventurer, the harder it is to make an adjustment to an outdoor life with kids. The very attractions of going — being alone on a mountain, pushing yourself further and harder on every kayak trip — are nonexistent when you’ve got kids in tow. For someone raised in Montana’s wide-open outdoors though, as I was, the prospect of staying put, or staying only in hotels, is not an option.

It’s easy to focus on what you lose when kids come along. But in a society where Nature Deficit Disorder is becoming a diagnosable problem in children, those of us who live and breath the outdoors have a duty to make sure our progeny get the bug, too.

And that means starting young. My son has already been carried on minor walks in the Alps near Vienna, Austria, and near where we live in New York’s Hudson Valley. Near two now, he’s going to have his first series of longer hikes during a two-week trip to Montana in August. In preparation, I’ve begun carrying him on hour-long walks to the post office and back, and let me tell you, he’s heavy. It’s hard, and the prospect of carrying him uphill for several hours is daunting. Am I nervous? Sure. Is he going to puke on my head? It’s happened. Will he throw a fit? Too probable. Since he can hardly crunch muesli bars, what am I going to pack for him to eat?

The adventures don’t have to stop when the baby arrives. Maybe it’s just the gear that changes, and the time. There aren’t going to be any 14-hour mountain climbs in my near future. Sippy cups, diapers, and tons of crackers take their pack space, and my own back is spoken for. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up. Hell, no, my boy’s going to grow up loving hiking if it kills me.

Guest post by writer and Prague resident Julia Grewe.

The advantage of living in a foreign country is that you never cease being a tourist. We have been living in Prague, Czech Republic, for one and a half years now and I still discover places and buildings that make me pause in awe and constantly renew my love for this city.

However, limiting my discovery tours to Prague would mean neglecting parts of this country that are equally worth visiting. Recently, we decided to take a weekend off from the capital and take a trip to Southern Bohemia. Our goal was the medieval town of Český Krumlov, which is UNESCO listed as a World Heritage site.

And it is obvious why. The little town of 15,000 inhabitants huddles against several turns of the Vltava River and its buildings are an indescribable wealth of Renaissance, Gothic and Baroque architecture. You can easily get confused by its numerous narrow alleys, little galleries, restaurants, and monuments. Every cobblestone tells of this picturesque town’s history, which dates back to the 13th century. But there is also evidence of decades of neglect during the communist regime as the occasional dilapidated structure contrasts with lovingly renovated buildings.

The main attraction is the omnipresent Renaissance castle with its five courtyards, 300 rooms, a spectacular view across the town and a cool and rather unusual location for exhibiting modern art: the basement. If you want to explore the whole castle area and need to stop occasionally to admire the fascinating sgraffiti (sgraffito is a technique of wall-painting used in Renaissance times, involving a design scratched into layers of plaster) on the walls , you’ll need ample time. You also might want to take a stroll through the vast French-style gardens with their man-made pond and dignified mature trees. The gardens make for a recreative escape from the masses of tourists that invade the town every year (around 1.2 million).

If you are driving to Český Krumlov by car, coming from Prague, make sure to have a blanket and some food in your trunk. And don’t become irritated by possible detours due to construction on the route, which is very likely to happen. They will probably lead you through some of the most memorable landscape you will ever see. There are ponds and lakes lined with trees behind every corner. Rolling hills are covered with dandelion fields or oilseed rape stretching as far as you can see. Natural forests and meadows line your way. Thus, do as we did on our three-hour journey: take a time-out from feeling hasty and hurried, sit back in your car, and enjoy.

A native of Germany, Julia Grewe lives and writes in Prague, Czech Republic.

Did you know that New Zealand is the penguin capital of the world ?

It’s the nesting ground for nine of the sixteen species of living penguins and one of the best places in the world to go to get up close and personal with these cute little birds.

Once these penguins could be found along much of the New Zealand coast, waddling along the beaches and forests. But these days, there are less penguins and few sightings. And most of the sightings are confined to established and controlled areas (for the protection of the remaining penguins).

The best place to find penguins in New Zealand is in the South Island, especially along the eastern coast. Start in Christchurch with a visit to the International Antarctic Center for a sneak preview of the Little Blue penguins and then head down south via State Highway One to Oamaru. Penguins take pride of place here. In fact, penguin paraphernalia is so common in Oamaru that Lonely Planet New Zealand’s South Island guidebook called the town ‘penguintown.’

The Oamaru Blue Penguin Center, located at the old limestone quarry on the waterfront, is a perfect example of a sustainable tourism venture. Featuring a wildlife museum and a wildlife reserve, it manages to accommodate tens of thousands of visitors yearly without disturbing the environment of the penguin colony. While it’s open daily from mid morning to late evening, the best time to visit and view these cute penguins is in the evening (6 pm in winter, 10 pm in summer).

Oamaru is the most popular place to view penguins in their natural habitat but there are plenty of other places to check out further south, as highlighted by BrewZone’s penguin spotting map…

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Discover more about New Zealand’s South Island with the latest Lonely Planet guidebook ‘New Zealand’s South Island’.

Don’t forget to Enter the Perceptive Travel giveaway to win a copy for yourself.

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I was sent a copy of the recently released Lonely Planet New Zealand’s South Island guide the other day to review. And review it I will next week. I’m keen to find out how my hometown of Christchurch is portrayed. 

But once I’ve done that, I plan on giving the book away to one lucky Perceptive Travel blog reader.

So all of you who are planning on visiting New Zealand, have visited New Zealand and want to relive the experience, or one day dream of visiting New Zealand, here’s your chance of finding out all the great and wonderful things that New Zealand’s South Island, which many of us locals called the mainland, have to offer.

This book is the first one from Lonely Planet to focus totally on the South Island, although for some strange reason, they also felt the need to dedicate thirty four pages to the capital city of Wellington which everyone knows is not, in any way, part of the South Island.

Still, even with this slight deviation, this book looks to cover all the wonders, attractions, adventures, scenic delights, culinary offerings, and highlights of a part of New Zealand that I consider my backyard.

Stop by next weekend to read my complete and thorough review of the Lonely Planet New Zealand’s South Island.

To be in for a chance to win the copy for yourself  leaving a comment sharing your New Zealand adventure or hopes about having a New Zealand adventure.

This giveaway is open to everyone around the world and will run until June 1st when a winner will be announced.

Maybe the age of exploration and adventure isn’t dead after all. Yesterday the BBC reported on the removal of three British explorers who had been trekking across the Arctic on a mission to measure the thickness of sea ice.

The news story isn’t your average intrepid-rescuer tidbit. Instead, it’s an in-depth look at the experience of exploring in extreme conditions, which, even in our global-warming and technological age, can still be hair-raising and life-threatening, just as it was when Apsley Cherry-Garrard wrote his epic book, The Worst Journey in the World, about Captain Scott’s 1913 attempt to reach the South Pole in Antarctica (possibly my favorite travel book of all time).

The BBC piece includes live video interviews, and clips from earlier newscasts as the British public followed their explorers on this important but ultimately truncated mission. The scientists talk about the serious frostbite they’ve suffered (and describe its pain exquisitely — the Marquis de Sade might be proud), and their hunger. Their food supplies dipped when supply flights were cancelled due to bad weather, and the three people were down to 80 grams of food per day and a teaspoon of milk.

Makes me hungry just thinking about it. Luckily, they are not traveling in Cherry-Garrard’s time, and were finally rescued and given a hot meal and showers. Although the team was lifted out ten days early partly due to the summer ice break-up, they did manage to make 16,000 measurements of sea ice during their journey, adding invaluable information about the health of our planet.

Ten weeks in horrendous conditions, with limited food supply and the threat of freezing to death, all in the name of giving humanity another little lift in our efforts to survive on this little blue rock. Now that’s traveling.