I Wanted to Take My Kids to Europe. We Went to Forks Instead.

Our spontaneous six-hour road trip to Twilight tourist town

This was a tough summer.

I longed to take my kids to Europe. Barcelona and Dublin were top contenders. We also considered the Pukkelpop music festival in Belgium, which had an absolutely incredible three-day lineup.

My kids are 15 and 13. They’re still obligated to tag along with their mom for vacations, but I can see my days — and opportunities — are numbered. We’ve traveled a bit in the U.S. and have visited both Mexico and Canada. I wanted to take them to Europe years ago, but as a single mom, they seemed young for traveling with just one adult. My youngest was very, well, young for their age. I worried what would happen if I got sick or injured. When they were smaller, it just all felt too vulnerable. And just as they were getting large enough to travel, COVID hit. Our summer 2020 trip to Berlin to visit dear friends got postponed to the point that I need to just say it was canceled.

I thought summer 2023 was finally going to be our year to travel.

But it’s been a rough summer. My job was unstable. I spent two months interviewing for a role within my org that never materialized, making planning nearly impossible. Afterwards it became abundantly clear my role was at risk, which meant more resumes. More coffee chats. More interviews. More anxiety over money and concern my career pillar was wobbling. I had to put my mental resources into finding a new role, and by the time I (thankfully!) did, summer was too far gone.

No Euro-travels for us.

But my ex was taking the kids to Port Townsend, WA, an adorable getaway town on the Olympic Peninsula, easily accessible by ferry for an overnight. It happened to be the week I was between roles. I asked if I could tag along.

That’s how two days ago, I found myself in Port Townsend with my two kids, their best friend, and my ex.

Traveling with the teens

I’m the luckiest single mom ever. My kids have an amazing, involved dad, and we have a super solid co-parent relationship and friendship. It wasn’t easy at the beginning, of course, but we’ve always put our kids first, and we value each other as parents and companions.

He is my family.

We have much in common — deeply GenX sensibilities, similar tastes in music and politics, a shared history of adult friendships, and, of course, our kids. We’re also profoundly different in how we move through the world; I’m the experiential extrovert, always going and adding more to my overflowing plate and eager for interaction and experiences. He’s the introvert who thrives with downtime, happiest at home with his guitars and books and records, fatigued by too much activity and chaos.

We all explored the little town on Port Townsend, a strip of historic buildings on the waterfront filled with want-not-need shops of clothes, crystals, art, candy, books, beads, and other assorted goodies. The kids spent all their fun-money, we all gorged on delicious pizza (even me, the one who’s not supposed to have gluten or dairy, whoops), and were planning to head to Fort Walden State Park —Dad’s request after hours spent following the shopping teens — but he demurred. He was ready to head home, a couple of hours away.

We were preparing to do the same when the teens blurted out, apropos to nothing: “We wanna go to Forks and go see Twilight stuff!”

Forks??

Twilight?!? Like, sparkly vampires, Twilight?

Hmmm.

Port Townsend and Forks are both on the Olympic Peninsula in Washington. So the request did make some sense. But the peninsula is large, and Forks is two hours in the opposite direction from home. Two hours to get there, over four hours back home.

Here, I made you a map — very much the same map I stared at while contemplating their request…

A six-hour drive?

For Twilight??

Again I thought, hmmm.

My kids have neither read nor seen Twilight. I read the books before the kids were born and while I think they have some compelling narrative features, I also recognize they’re deeply problematic and poorly written. I’ve also heard Forks is not a destination. It was a remote logging town with nothing in it. Now it’s a remote logging town with nothing in it except for Twilight-themed tourist shops.

The movie wasn’t even filmed there.

And did I mention, it’s remote? Check out that map above. It’s all National Park, verdant and lovely. But also, pretty isolated for driving around, and especially in my 15-year-old car.

I tallied all these negatives and said another hmmm.

But then I thought — it’s only 2pm. Sure, we could’ve gotten on the road and been home by 5pm, with plenty of time for chores, for writing, maybe even a visit to the gym. Totally worthwhile and practical things.

But also, how often did I have a week with no work, a week where I could dip in and meet my teens where they were — a sort of liminal summer vacation state where time felt abundant and responsibilities, absent? When was the last time I did something ridiculous with no goal in mind, just because I had the time to do it and co-conspirators who were along for the ride, (in this case, literally)?

The kids were beaming with anticipation, awaiting my decision, inhaling sugary treats from the candy shop and not wanting the adventure to stop.

I didn’t want it to stop, either.

I’d wanted to take them to Europe so we could share adventures together, visit new cultures, sure — but mostly, I wanted to see beautiful sites and connect with my kids outside of the day-to-day of our lives. I’d worried and planned and canceled plans and tied myself in knots until I was too paralyzed to make any travel plans at all with them this summer.

And this adventure? It was within reach.

I had nothing to plan.

I just had to say yes.

“Alrighty then, Forks it is!” I proclaimed.

I think they were nearly as surprised as I was by that yes.

“You are my life now.”

My only stipulation for the ride was that they play Twilight (the first movie) while we made our way to Forks. So with snacks aplenty, the sunshine streaming in the windows contrasting the darkly teen angst vampire movie unfolding in the backseat, we headed west on a two-lane highway, the gorgeous evergreen foliage of the Olympic National Forest on either side of us, thickening as we headed deeper toward Forks.

Then the most fitting thing happened. I looked up and ahead of us, and saw the road to Forks turning dark…

I’m not speaking metaphorically. I saw lusher, denser trees and unmistakable storm clouds.

“Hey kids, look — we’re heading into vampire territory,” I announced. We all marveled at the abrupt change in weather, which added to the sense of truth to this adventure of ours.

Within minutes, the idyllic weather for a ride disappeared, and we were in a rainstorm, one that continued the entire path there.

Did you know Stephenie Meyer set the Twilight series in Forks because it’s one of the rainiest places in the United States? Vampires hate sunlight (per her, it makes them sparkle, which is conspicuous/embarrassing for them). And so, sight unseen, she set her trilogy in Forks, using cloud cover as a literal cover for the vampires. I kinda love this addition to vampire lore.

I did not, however, love driving in the downpour.

But onward we went, and it was beautiful, especially as we wound around the 12 miles of southern shores of the stunning, azure Lake Crescent. “Look at how gorgeous this is,” I said, encouraging the kids to pop their eyes off the movie and look around, as I couldn’t, white-knuckled and eyes-on-the-road as was.

We lost Twilight when we lost streaming service, about 25 minutes from town.

It all seemed foreboding. What would we find in Forks…?

“What did you expect? Coffins and dungeons and moats?”

I had very low expectations of what we’d find in Forks — and they were met.

Since none of the film was actually filmed in Forks, there are no actual landmarks to visit. We spent very little time in the town, but I feel pretty safe saying the Forks as depicted in Twilight had a lot more going on — more people, more shit happening, more things to do.

But that didn’t stop the town from trying, nor did it stop us from reveling in all that was there.

Which wasn’t much. In real life, there’s just very little to the town: a single highway strip with some souvenir shops, gas stations, a dingy Chinese restaurant, and did I mention, more souvenir shops?

It’s all Twilight and Bigfoot in these parts.

But mostly Twilight.

Bella, Edward, and Jacob peer out from every window.

Shops teem with Team Edward and Team Jacob merch: T-shirts, pajamas, hats, glasses, posters, action figures, key rings, magnets, and cardboard replicas of the stars to pose with — you name it, if they could place a Twilight face on it, they did.

And you can buy it all. Or just try it on.

Like this hat. I regret not purchasing this hat, a lot.

The kids each bought memorabilia. My eldest and her BFF each got a pair of Twilight-themed pajama bottoms with “Bite Me” on the butt and honestly, I’ve never been more sure she was mine. My youngest got a cute sage green “Forks” hoodie. I got a magnet for our fridge.

Everyone we encountered was kind and accommodating of our touristy selves. One shopkeeper told us to go see the replica of Bella’s truck in front of the Logging Museum, so of course we did.

My youngest found the “Swan House” on Google so we took a tiny detour and found it. It’s an Airbnb listing and for just $348/night you can stay here and have a Very Twilight Vacation.

It’s unclear to me if this house inspired the house in the book and movie, or if some savvy entrepreneur remodeled the home to look like the Swan family house. I’ve got my money on the latter, but whatever. We paused and took photos, as did several other folks in the few minutes we sat there.

The house is in the middle of a neighborhood. I can only imagine how much the neighbors loathe it.

Be sure to note the cardboard Edward and Jacob in the front windows…

A local advised we head to the diner where Bella and her dad had dinner (in the book — again, the films didn’t take place here). But it was nine miles toward La Push, the opposite direction from home, and I was eager to get past Lake Crescent before dark.

So, the local Forks economy stimulated, we piled back in the car for the long trek back.

“I like the night. Without the dark, we’d never see the stars.”

That ride home was spooky.

We’d downloaded the second film (New Moon) for the ride, and the dialogue regaled me like a soundtrack the whole way. But I didn’t absorb any of it, because that was some tough driving.

While we made it past Lake Crescent before dark, the rest of the drive on the peninsula was rural and inky dark — no street lights and apparently no moon or starlight to guide us. My eldest sat next to me in the passenger seat; she’s in driver’s ed now so I told her to look out and imagine the road.

“I’m anxious and I’m not even driving,” she replied.

I’d like to think I heard some admiration in her voice as I drove those final hours and got us back into the safety of civilization.

So, totally worth it.

“About three things I was absolutely positive.”

In Twilight, the three things Bella is “absolutely positive” about are a bit… obvious. From this adventure, I have my own three things I’m absolutely positive about as well.

The quote continues:

First, Edward was a vampire.

I mean, of course he is. Know what else is a vampire? The way the obligations of adulthood can suck away the energy to plan for fun. I wanted a big epic trip for us so badly, I nearly missed the opportunity for a short but meaningful adventure.

Second, there was a part of him — and I didn’t know how potent that part might be — that thirsted for my blood.

There’s a part of me — and I know that part is super potent — that thirsts for but has lacked a sense of connection and fun.

By giving into spontaneity, I not only reconnected with my kids, but also tapped into an adolescent sense of wonder, a way of living when time felt boundless and a day had the freedom to head in whatever direction it pleased. Suddenly my burdens and goals and time management skills faded in favor of sharing time and experience with my amazing companions, fully existing for the present moment.

God, I’ve missed that feeling.

And third, I was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with him.

And I love my kids unconditionally and irrevocably, of course. I need to soak up every experience with them during these final years of their childhood, and that needn’t mean a weeks-long destination trip.

Not all vacations need to be bangers.

Not all adventures need to be planned.

Not all memoirs need to take place in the past. Sometimes you know when you’re living the life lesson as it happens.

I plan to make insensible, spontaneous decisions like this more often.

About these things, I am absolutely positive.

Greetings!

I’m All My Little Words, a GenX word nerd living in the Pacific Northwest with a whole lot of little words to share. I write about career, music, feminism and perimenopause, cooking, ambition, fun, parenting, and more, with an offbeat perspective on how and why the world works (or doesn’t).

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