When I was around 14 weeks pregnant, I entered a competition to "Holiday a Heartbeat away" - the prize was a trip for 2 to London, with a visit to the set of Heartbeat to meet cast and crew. I really enjoy Heartbeat, and run a web site about it, so was desperately excited to receive a phone call at around 20 weeks pregnant, advising me that I had won the competition.

Then reality set in ... how were we going to manage the trip with a young baby in tow? There was no question of going before August, and no question of leaving baby behind (although I was constantly asked whether we were doing just that). With positive recommendations from my ObGyn Dr Jeanie, her receptionist Lesley who moved continents with a 3-week old baby and two other children in tow, and lots of advice from others, we decided to be brave and assume it would all be OK.

Months later, we were ready to go. We had list after list of what to take, a rough idea of what we wanted to see, and a baby and mother who finally had the hang of this breastfeeding thing. We had persuaded Fraser's sister Justine to come too - not only was she keen to meet the Heartbeat cast & crew, she was also looking forward to spending time with us and (more importantly I am sure) her new baby niece. We had a passport for Claudia, tickets for us all (they arrived at 5pm the day before we left), a brand new duty free camera (which we couldn't pick up until the tickets arrived), vouchers for a rental car which we had been able to pay for in Australian dollars, membership of the Qantas Club which gave us 10 kilos extra baggage allowance and the right to use airport lounges, and dozens of guide books. Also about 3 bags too many; we spent most of the night before we left re-packing to try to get everything down to manageable size.

Claudia loved the plane ride over. Possibly the background noise soothed her, possibly it was the feeling of being in the air. She fed regularly, slept in the bassinette provided, and fed to pop her ears on takeoff and landing. She also decided it was feeding time whenever the trolleys came around with dinner, but the staff were happy to bring me a meal once she had finished feeding. The "Qantas Baby" bag they gave us (with bib, change mat, disposable nappy and wipes, and Qantas toy) was very welcome and proved useful during our travels as a sturdy bag we could slip under the pram. It was also terrific on the plane, as it saved Fraser (Mr Nappy) from having to carry the enormous nappy backpack up to the toilets. [A word on plane toilets - don't take baby in if you need to use them yourself. I am reliably informed that boys can manage OK but it's hard to sit down when the baby ledge is just a short distance over the seat, and there's really nowhere else to put them... although I have since been told that small babies fit nicely in the sink.]

Halfway from Singapore to London, a flight attendant came and asked if she could take Claudia for a walk. Half an hour later they were back - Claudi had visited first and business class passengers, and then made it to the flight deck to say hello to the Captain. Fraser had been looking forward to taking her up there himself, and was most annoyed that she had made it under her own steam!

As we got off the plane at Heathrow, a fellow passenger came up to us. "I just wanted to say how good your baby was on the plane," she said. Being pragmatic, we heard the sub-text behind this kind comment: "I was so scared when I saw a baby get on board, 22 hours with a screamer is not my idea of fun". I hope she realises how nice it was that she took the time to tell us that. Such a small thing to do, but so heartening for us.

From Heathrow, we were met by a car and driver and taken to our hotel. [With the Australian dollar at record lows, we were struck by the cost in "real money" of this service (fortunately covered in the competition). 42 pounds was $126 - the equivalent of 200 litres of petrol or around 120 cans of soft drink.] The car had no baby safety seat, so I strapped Claudia into a sling over my seatbelt, figuring that at least she had a 5 point harness on, even if it wasn't the car kind. I was, of course, terrified the whole way to the hotel. I don't feel safe in a car myself if I can't wear a lap-sash seatbelt, and I can at least hang on!

Arriving at the hotel at 7am, we checked in although our room was not yet ready. We had a normal room reserved, with double bed and sofa bed and a portable cot for Claudia. The hotel (the Mount Royal Thistle at Marble Arch) kindly upgraded us to a family room, which was essentially 2 rooms plus bathroom. This gave us and Justine a bit more privacy, as well as allowing space for all our stuff. (We were starting to wonder how we would fit everything in the rental car.). The downside was that our room was nearly 5 minutes' walk from the lift well, and there was no way we were taking the stairs to the 6th floor!

Our 5 days in London were spent orienting ourselves. We had all been to London before, separately, so were not over concerned with doing the regular tourist trail. Foolishly, we tried to take the pram everywhere, including on the underground, where stairs and escalators were the norm. Despite some interesting visits, and a chance to catch up with my friend Scott, now working near London, I found this a very wearing time. Claudia was waking around 4am ready to start the day, and would have to be coaxed back to sleep; we found that lying her between us on the king-size bed would often help, but then we wouldn't sleep as well, being concerned that we'd roll onto her. I was still in that weird state (which would persist every night until she was nearly 3 months old, and still recurs occasionally at nearly 7 months) where I would wake up convinced that I had just been breastfeeding her and she had fallen off and was lost somewhere among the bedclothes. This made life very interesting for Fraser, especially on the nights when I would wake him as I hit his back trying to move him off the spot where I was convinced Claudia was lying...

On our last full day in London, we split up to do our own things. Justine went to the Victoria and Albert museum, Fraser to the Imperial War Museum, and I took a bus tour (one of the ones where you can get on & off the bus as you wish). This was a good idea, but I had tried to take the pram, which was not. I stayed on the bus for the full circuit, then returned to our hotel to feed Claudia. Afterwards, I put her in the sling and returned for another tour which was much more comfortable. I really recommend this method of sightseeing for anyone with a baby or young child.

On Day 6, we picked up the rental car and left the Mount Royal for Places Unknown. We headed South East towards Dover, where we spent the night in a "family room" (1 room with a double and single bed plus baby in the pram) which was a little crowded. Here was where we first experienced the many "no children allowed" signs on pubs.

There are 3 types of pub in the UK. Standard pub licences do not allow minors at all; this includes babies in prams. Some now are licensed as "family hotels" - we later found the Innkeeper chain which is an example of this. Then there are the older licences - Free Houses (licensed to "succour travellers") and Inns. These will also allow babies and children.

On the drive down, I had been impressed by a motorway cafe we passed. Motorways generally have "Services" areas every 20 miles or so (sometimes more often), which usually consist of a petrol station on either side of the motorway. One of these is often a larger complex with cafes, fast food outlets, and possibly a newsagent, video games and car accessories store. (Tip for those travelling: The baby care rooms seemed to be universally good in these places, although few incorporated a feeding area; I usually just fed Claudi in the car). There is generally a covered walkway so people at the smaller petrol station can also access these services.

In two places that we know of, this concept has been extended. Instead of one small petrol station and one larger complex linked by a covered walkway, you will find two small petrol stations linked by a BIG walkway that incorporates the fast food outlets etc. (This photo shows the one on the M1, taken on the last day of our trip in driving rain, but you can hopefully get the idea.). Despite being petrified of heights, it became my ambition to visit one of these, and I watched eagerly for one for the rest of our stay.

At breakfast on our first day in Dover, Claudia discovered a new trick - flirting with the curtains. And another new trick - smiling at the curtains. Note that she would not smile at her doting mum, dad or aunty, just at the curtains in the breakfast room. Then she'd look away, then peek back coyly to see if those naughty curtains were still watching her.

After finding a laundrette - crucial to our comfort and that of those around us - we visited Dover Castle. Claudia was not a bit keen on the "Secret Wartime Tunnels" underground tour, so I snuck out and watched videos about the Second World War.

The next day, Claudia finally smiled at us. In the breakfast room, after saying good morning to the curtains, of course. Now we started a new game - getting a photo of our gorgeous smiling baby. I won't tell you how many rolls of film we wasted...