Should we abolish the honeymoon?
Talk about pressure. According to tradition, newlyweds leave their big, stressful weddings and head straight to planes, trains and automobiles, when they would probably rather go home, get into sweats and watch “Seinfeld” reruns.
They arrive at some hotel billed as romantic and secluded. At this point, they are expected to stare into each other’s eyes, drink the management’s free rotgut champagne and enter into bliss.
In the olden days, well-to-do couples departed on Grand Tours of Europe for months at a time. This pace may have worked better than our modern fly-by-night bonding weekends. In any case, prefab romance often falls flat. Even on planned getaway vacations for the already married, so many assumed systems can fail.
Ah, the awkwardness
A guy I know was psyched to spend his honeymoon on a train through various Asian countries and in fact fantasized about getting lucky in every jurisdiction. But the very idea of enforced lovey-doviness drove his bride into the arms of a very lengthy detective novel. So much for that.
Another woman took off with her new husband to a secluded Mexican palapa on a crystalline bay. Her problem, though, was one of pathological chattiness. Over the years, she and her husband’s yin-yang style of babbling mixed with Western taciturnity has worked amazingly well. But the honeymoon made her itch for civilization. Finally she took a bus into town and spent the afternoon talking to strangers.
I think this is why two other friends of mine married at a Sandals resort designed for couples – at least there were other duos to talk to.
My first husband and I went to a quiet mountain hotel. The program consisted of three massive meals interspersed with sitting around a prissy parlor. A stupor wasn’t what we had in mind, but that’s what we got. My second husband and I went to Portugal for a bike trip that was intended to be idyllic, but ended up so grueling that my back spasmed, and you can imagine how enchanting that turned out to be.
And then there are the interludes that can go either way. Real cliffhangers.
You can go to the Catskills for a weekend of heart-shaped whirlpools, single red roses and awkwardness. Or you can go in a spirit of irony and have a blast making fun of the massive buffets, not to mention the other guests. You can escape for the first weekend away from your newborn but end up using the time catching up on much needed sleep. Or, hormones racing with the spirit of magnificent freedom at last, you can accomplish far more interesting things. Who can predict?
Romance that works
Nevertheless, I am pleased to recommend a few getaway weekend ideas that really work:
Instead of a honeymoon, have an engagement. If you are the proposing party, ask the major question in a location of unsurpassed beauty. If you both love the outdoors, find the perfect mountain lodge that offers trout fishing and hiking trails. If you crave sophistication, go to Manhattan, Chicago or San Francisco, and don’t scrimp. It will appear that you are just getting away for the weekend, but then, WHAM! Intro to a life of wedded harmony! What’s not to like?
Intersperse self-consciously intimate moments – the carriage ride through Central Park, those infernal single red roses – with the activities that make you feel like best friends. Stop being so highfalutin. Take the usual trip to Starbucks. Work out at a gym. Sit on a bench downtown and critique people’s outfits. (I would rather not know why denigrating strangers brings such togetherness.)
Be disorganized and clueless. Two friends of mine decided to marry in Hungary. They raced around to locate a church and a nice bottle of champagne. For this, they required a bag of ice, but the bartender they asked seemed very confused by the order. No matter how many times they checked their phrase book, he resisted. Finally, he shrugged, went into the kitchen and came bag with a large sack full of ice cream!
Is this the memory of a lifetime or what?
Robin Chotzinoff is a freelance writer who lives in Evergreen.
