The writing was on the wall, seemingly.  Sequoia Capital partner Matt Miller announced on Wednesday that he’s leaving the powerhouse outfit after a 12-year career to build his own new firm focused on European founders. He added he will remain a venture partner with Sequoia and maintain his board seats while fleshing out the “specifics […]

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• When Victoria Lamson's son was 10 months old, she took him on a trip to Ireland, the UK, and France.
• She and her husband planned ahead, investing in a sturdy stroller and calling hotels in advance.
• For the most part, they felt Europe was more child-friendly than the US.

When my husband and I first announced that we were bringing our 10-month-old son with us on a two-week European vacation, we got very mixed reviews.

Some friends and family said our timing was perfect: Deacon wasn't walking or talking yet, so it'd be easier to travel with him. Others thought it was a big mistake. Lugging around a stroller and dealing with tantrums — all while navigating unfamiliar cities — seemed miserable to them. Plus, they told us, Deacon would be too young to remember any of it. What was the point?

But even before I became pregnant, Mike and I agreed that we didn't want to isolate ourselves like so many newborn parents do. While we didn't know what to expect with our first child, we wanted to include him in our normal travel plans rather than living a strictly child-focused lifestyle.

We started small. One of our first excursions was a road trip from our home in San Francisco to visit family in LA when Deacon was two months old. As he got a little older, we saw that Deacon is a very chill individual. He rarely fussed and easily napped in his stroller.

So in 2019, we planned a trip to Ireland, the UK, and France. While it required a little more planning and was slower-paced than vacations before parenthood, it became one of our favorite ones.

A little prep made the trip smoother

When we went on our LA road trip, we invested in a Babyzen Yoyo stroller, made by a French brand. While it cost around $450, which is on the pricey end, it was worth it: it smoothly rolls over cobblestone streets and easily fits into an overhead bin. Six years later, we still use it with our second baby.

To set us up for success, I called some services in advance. Most long-haul flights offer limited bassinets for babies in rows with extra space, but those seats usually need to be reserved ahead of time. I also reached out to our hotels to make sure they had cribs they could bring out, and a car service in Dublin — our first destination — provided us with a car seat suitable for an infant.

The only unexpected snag was using my breast pump abroad. Because Deacon was older and already eating solid foods, my milk supply was lower and I didn't really need the pump as much. Still, as a first-time mom, I brought it because it's recommended by pediatricians to continue pumping for a full year and I wanted to do everything right.

I had a European outlet adapter, but I forgot about the wattage differences. When I plugged the pump in, it got completely fried. Luckily, I had Deacon with me for those few weeks and could make more stops to breastfeed him.

Europe was more child-friendly than home

Overall, Europe was very kid-friendly. London was easy to stroll through and full of parks we could stop at with Deacon.

We also didn't feel out of place bringing a baby to an Irish pub, even on St. Patrick's Day. Culturally, it's more of a norm to bring kids to bars and other "adult" spaces in Europe than it is in the US.

Out of everywhere we went, Paris was the hardest place to navigate; due to the city's style of architecture, we had to climb spiral staircases in bistros and brasseries when changing diapers. Still, the culture made us feel welcome. Our hotel surprised us with a beautiful crib and a teddy bear for Deacon.

It was such a stark difference from San Francisco. More often than not, there isn't a changing table in the bathroom. And when you can find one, it's only in the women's restroom, as if it's not also a father's responsibility to care for his child.

In contrast, we went to a very old restaurant in a small Irish seaside town. When I walked into the tiny bathroom, I was surprised to find fold-away changing tables in all the stalls.

Europe's positive attitude toward children and families is such a big draw. Even slight accommodations make such a huge difference when we travel.

We did everything we wanted

The experience taught us that we don't have to put our lives on hold with kids. When Deacon got sleepy on the trip, we just bundled him up in his stroller and used the opportunity to relax at a cafe.

After Europe, we went to a family timeshare in Tulum, Mexico at the end of 2019 — another wonderful vacation. In 2022, we took Deacon with us on a road trip around Atlanta, Savannah, and Charleston.

While it's tougher to travel with two kids now — our 17-month-old daughter is less easygoing than Deacon was at that age — we still take staycations and go out with our children.

Looking back, going to Europe was more fun because Deacon was with us, not in spite of it. It felt so special to have him with us, and we'll always hold on to those memories of early parenthood very fondly.

• I've always wanted to visit London, but as a 44-year-old mom of two, I struggled to find time to go.
• I decided to take a solo trip without my kids or husband.
• Exploring London on my own was empowering, and I'm so glad I took the trip.

I didn't grow up in a family that traveled. The first time I vacationed outside the US was on my honeymoon, and just a few years after getting married, our first child was born, significantly slowing down our travels. It's only been since my kids got older that I've been traveling to spots I've always wanted to visit, like Italy and Mexico's Baja California peninsula.

London has always been on my travel bucket list, but flying a family of four to Europe can be pricey. I'm 44 years old and have accomplished a lot over the last two years, from losing 100 pounds with the help of weight loss surgery to breaking up with alcohol and celebrating a year of sobriety. Recently, I decided to do something outside of my comfort zone and traveled to London all alone. As it turns out, it was a lovely city to visit on a solo trip.

Riding the tube on my own was empowering

Sure, I've read about the London Underground (the tube) in books and seen it in movies, but actually landing at Heathrow Airport and hopping on the tube to get to my hotel felt surreal. I fly often, so the long plane ride from Florida didn't feel much different than other travels, but there something about stepping onto the tube was empowering. I realized I'd arrived in London and was about to go on the solo adventure of a lifetime.

To my relief, the tube was surprisingly easy to navigate. I found the line needed to get to my hotel and settled in to watch London roll by through the windows as I traveled.

I stayed in a hotel chain that felt familiar to me

I stayed in the Stratford neighborhood of London at a fairly new Yotelpad hotel location. I flew direct from Miami to London and stayed at a Yotelpad in Miami, too, both before and after my flights. If there's one tip I'd give solo travelers, it's to stay at a hotel chain that's the same during every stop on your trip, as I found it comforting not to be disoriented by getting used to a new hotel as I changed locales and time zones.

After checking in, I spent the day exploring the area — including seeing the Olympic-sized pool built for the 2012 games — which came in handy later when I needed to hop onto the tube or grab a morning cup of coffee.

Traveling solo allowed me to check off plenty of bucket-list activities

From eating Indian food on Brick Lane to seeing Big Ben to shopping (and eating) my way through Borough Market, the trip allowed me to check off many things I've only dreamed about doing. And it was incredibly empowering to do them independently, even though I missed sharing the experiences with my husband and kids.

Would I recommend London to other solo travelers? Absolutely. Not only is the city easy to navigate between the tube, buses, and walking, but every Londoner I met was incredibly kind and helpful. Minus a few warnings about pickpockets, I never felt unsafe walking around or riding public transportation.

My only regret is that I didn't stay longer. I had three full days in town plus travel days on each end, and that wasn't nearly enough; I barely scratched the surface of all there is to do in London. I can't wait to go back, and an added perk of going solo is that I've learned the London basics and can play tour guide to my family when I take them along someday.

By my last tube ride, I felt like a pro and was so glad I went

On my very last tube ride to the airport, I felt like a true London girlie. I stopped for a coffee and a toastie (think: the most delicious grilled cheese-like breakfast sandwich) and walked to the Stratford tube station, riding it straight to the airport for my flight home. A true Swiftie at heart, I couldn't help but hum "so long London, had a good run" to myself as I left.

A while ago, on a trip to Europe, I met a fellow traveler and shared with her that it was my first time there. "Isn't that embarrassing?" I asked. "I am in my 40s and have never been to Europe until now."

"I rebuke that statement," she said. "For whatever reason, you are exactly where you are supposed to be, and the time of your life when you're supposed to be traveling the world is right now." I've never forgotten her words, and I hold them close.

Traveling to London solo was an incredible experience, and, though it may have taken me 44 years to do it, the trip came at exactly the right time in my life. Sober, healthier, and happier, I was able to fully appreciate making it across the pond to a bucket-list city all on my own.

• Nina Unlay fulfilled her dream of working in London when she landed a reporter job in 2019.
• After only 10 months, she got on a flight back home to Manila and fell in love soon after.
• She's unsure if the Philippines is where she wants to start a family, but she knows it's where she'll retire.

When I landed a job in my dream city, I thought the hard part was over.

In 2019, I got my master's degree in journalism in London and was hired as an entry-level business reporter, making $36,000 a year.

Journalists back home, in Manila, Philippines, where I grew up, earn an average annual salary of $7,000. So, despite this being on the lower end for the UK, where the median gross annual salary for a full-time employee is about $45,400 — I was thrilled. Also, after having studied in London, I knew that this was enough for me to get by.

I soon learned that if I managed to stick around in London for five years, that's all it would take for me — a non-EU citizen — to get permanent residency.

This year, 2024, was the year when I may have gotten my permit — if I had chosen to stay.

Living in London

My life was so cool. I lived in a warehouse conversion with five other Londoners. Our living room could fit a DJ and a hundred dancing people. Our rooftop overlooked Victoria Park. I paid $1,075 a month in rent for my room.

I made great friends in London, many of whom, like me, were also journalists in flux. We spent our free days having picnics and discovering new parks; our nights barhopping around East and North London.

I was in love with the city. I never felt alone; I enjoyed every morning stroll through Broadway Market, every new café I discovered in my neighborhood in Hackney, and every afternoon spent people-watching along the pathways by Regent's Canal.

Despite the cost of living in London being 150% higher than in Manila, the salary bump at my new job was enough to greatly improve my quality of living: reliable transportation, air quality, healthcare standards, and the whole shebang. Many of the places I enjoyed — markets, museums, and parks — were free to visit.

I did miss certain things about living in the Philippines, such as the reliable presence of the sun, quick getaways to white-sand beaches, the cheap and delicious food, and, of course, family.

But in London, it felt like I had a life where anything was possible.

When the COVID-19 pandemic was declared in March 2020, I had to make a decision. Just a few days later, my things were packed, and I was on a flight back to Manila.

A dramatic exit from the diaspora

During the two years I spent living in London, I started having an irrational fear that if one day planes lost the ability to fly, I would never go home again. The pandemic made that fear feel less silly and more real. It forced me to choose: Did I want to build a life around my favorite city, or build a life around my favorite people?

Moving abroad is a popular narrative in the Philippines, one that I was fed growing up. My parents talked about the opportunity to work abroad with me often, pointing out relatives who had done it in the past and almost using them as role models. I developed a belief that there was a "better life" waiting abroad. And it's not wrong.

According to this year's global ranking of liveable cities, according to the Economist Intelligence Unit, Metro Manila, ranked low, at 135 out of the 173 cities surveyed. The EIU bases its Global Liveability Index on a range of factors including availability and quality of public and private healthcare, culture, education, and crime.

The city is one of the most densely populated regions globally.

Migration is part of the Filipino identity. Up to 10% of the population lives abroad, thanks to a system of government-funded training programs that focus on the high-demand career skills required of overseas workers and departments and agencies that streamline the migration process.

It's part of the reason the Filipino diaspora is so huge. I've said goodbye to so many family members and friends throughout my life — my video calls are to family based in cities that include Vancouver, Toronto, Portland, and New York.

But the truth is that the majority of Filipinos who leave aren't doing so because they want to explore the world. They leave because they feel compelled to — that they need to either for themselves or often also for their families. I am just one of the fortunate few who had the privilege and the means to choose for myself.

Manila, my Manila

In Metro Manila, I never feel alone. The people here are the city's best part. They make Manila what it is; an imperfect place, held up by tape, with good food and people who know how to make the best of a crappy hand.

It is not a dream city. It is hot and humid, but full of heart. I try to enjoy how bright the sun is here — especially when compared to the gray and foggy skies in London. I still remind myself that I am privileged to be home, where I can afford a life that keeps my loved ones close.

Four years after returning from London, I've shifted to a career, working at an advertising and communication agency in the Philippines. I moved into a new apartment, and found the person I plan to marry. It is our little inside joke that I traded London for the chance to find him here.

My fiancé is a Filipino-American who was born in Virginia and moved to the Philippines when he was 5. Sometimes we mull over the possibility of moving to the US and attempting to get citizenship for me. We talk about the possibility of having children and how this might give them better options for their future. We feel compelled to at least consider it.

But whenever we think about retiring, it is always, gratefully, in the Philippines; in our warm, crowded Manila, in the presence of the people we love most.

London is putting the brakes on the mess of electric bikes that litter the streets of the city. Today, the local transportation authority, Transport for London, announced a new enforcement policy that will restrict parking for the tens of thousands of e-bikes rented on-demand from companies like Lime, HumanForest and Dott. The news is significant […]

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