HEARING the church bells ring in the New Year, I popped a grape in my mouth with each chime.

It’s the tradition in Spain – where I was celebrating the end of 2016 with my family – and is supposed to bring good luck.

Not that we needed it, as after selling all our possessions and travelling across Europe in our tiny motor home, I’d never felt luckier.

The idea came to me while I was stuck in traffic on a dreary day in March that year. Tim and I were visiting friends up north and as we crawled along the motorway, we talked about how little time we’d been spending as a family. Raising three children while we both worked long hours meant life had become hectic.

A couple of friends had recently died and time felt so precious. I realised I’d had enough and suggested to Tim that we take a year out and travel across Europe. At first he laughed, but the more we discussed it, the more plausible it seemed.

We knew uprooting the children would be tough and we’d need to sell our house to fund the trip, but after discussing it at length, we decided to go for it. The kids were beside themselves with excitement, and while our friends and family were shocked, they were supportive.

Within six months we’d sold our house – putting aside £25,000 from the sale to fund the trip – I’d quit my job and Tim had taken a sabbatical. Then we bought a motor home and registered the children as home-schooled. As a teacher, I was confident I’d be able to ensure they didn’t fall behind with their education.

In September 2016, we said emotional farewells and headed off. Our first stop was Sarthe in France, where we spent one night, before making for Orio, a small fishing town in northern Spain. Squeezing Tim’s hand as we drove over the border, I’d never felt freer.

Each morning we’d jump out of bed full of excitement to explore a new town. It was a world away from our stressful commutes and the school run. Toby, Poppy and Rory had written a list of things they wanted to do and it was great fun ticking off each one – from eating gelato in Italy to taking a water taxi in Venice and watching wild seals in Denmark.

We’d carefully budgeted for our trip, so we made sure we didn’t splurge or run out of money. Of course there were moments we missed home. One night in Slovenia I felt pretty miserable as we all crammed into the motor home, surrounded by our damp washing as it poured with rain outside.

During our stay in Denmark, Poppy fell over and broke her arm. The hospital treatment she received was amazing, but it was scary being in a foreign country with an injured child. Tim and I did have the occasional row living in such a tiny space, but luckily the kids had a separate room so we could still spend time together once they’d gone to bed.

We spent Christmas in the Costa Del Sol and I cooked a roast dinner on the two-ring stove we’d brought with us. Wearing our Christmas hats as we squeezed around our tiny dining room table, I beamed with happiness.

Each day, the children learned new things, from the history of Checkpoint Charlie in Berlin to using their maths skills to count out their money in each currency and learning how to say hello in different languages.

By September 2017, it was time to head back home and although we were excited to see friends and family, we were desperately sad our trip had come to an end. We’d visited 19 countries and travelled 20,000 miles.

We managed to buy another house, viewing it while we were in the UK for a wedding in June. At first, it was strange trying to get back to normal – none of us realised how difficult we’d find it. But it was lovely to see the children telling all of their friends about the adventures they’d had.

Over a year later, we still talk about our trip almost every day. We’re torn between throwing caution to the wind and jetting off again and being sensible, especially since the children are getting older now.

Leaving our life behind was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. But while it may have cost us thousands, the memories are priceless.