Why you should honeymoon on the cheap
Do we really need to plan expensive, elaborate trips after a wedding?
Photo by Yoann Boyer on Unsplash
Couples already spend thousands on their wedding. On top of that, we feel pressure to plan extravagant honeymoons in exotic locations a day later. One of my friends spent hers in Amsterdam. Another in London. Yet another couple I know went on a Caribbean cruise.
They honeymoon trolled us for weeks. It was like they *wanted *me to roll my eyes at their photos. Like one day a selfie of my friend petting a dolphin showed up in my feed.
I hissed at her. “I hope you die, Jennifer. I hope you DIE.”
I’m just kidding. Jennifer wasn’t petting a dolphin. I’m not even sure that’s legal. But she was doing something fun that involved water and sea life. To make matters worse, she wore one of those colorblock wetsuits. That made me insanely jealous.
Facebook and Instagram want us to make our friends sick with envy. Why? Obviously, so everyone continues to try and one up each other. It’s great business for them.
We should relax. My spouse and I went on a short, inexpensive honeymoon. That suited us best. We didn’t plan according to others’ expectations. We had a great time, and we took more ambitious trips later.
Most of us enjoy travel. In moderation, it’s healthy. My partner and I have lounged on beaches, hiked mountains, and made love in winter cabins. But we did all that on our budget. On our own schedule. Because we wanted to. Not once did we feel inclined to broadcast our trips on social media. They were for us. Private. Intimate. Utter pleasures.
Our honeymoon wasn’t the most exciting trip we’ve ever taken together. It was a weekend on the coast. We spent some time beaching, and a lot of time in bed.
If you’re human, planning a wedding tends to wear you out. Not everybody wants to jet off to Venice right after saying, “I do.”
We were exhausted after ours. We’d done all the planning, and paid for it ourselves. Families chipped in on things like the rehearsal dinner, which helped. Still, two academics planning a wedding while also teaching and publishing and attending conferences wasn’t fun.
In fact, I’d flown to three different cities that year. A week later, we would pack up a bunch of old furniture and move to another state. In short, lots of travel. So the idea of spending the day after my wedding in another airport, or a cramped car, didn’t appeal to either of us. We both wanted something low key, inexpensive, and simple.
Admitting how we felt led to major relief. Instead of another financial burden, another time drain, we booked a beach hotel. It took one night to research, and we didn’t give a second thought to our honeymoon after that. We enjoyed the amenities, the pool, the hot tub. We had sex and took showers together. We shared a few nice meals, and went for long walks on the shore. Sometimes, that’s all you want. It was a truly happy weekend.
The honeymoon began to trend in the late 19th century. It started with innocent intentions. Newlyweds were supposed to steal away for a little while, visit family who couldn’t make the ceremony, and get used to the idea of having sex with each other.
The tourism industry got its hooks into the honeymoon around that time. Ever since, travel agencies have marketed expensive getaways to young couples. Mass media has made things worse.
Nowadays, we finally have celebrities who reinforce the idea of honeymoon as luxurious vacation, with their endless Instagram barrages of lush weddings and exciting getaways. Magazines and websites promise us that we, too, can come close to that kind of experience — for the low cost of everything we have squirreled away in our tiny little bank accounts.
Like Valentine’s Day and the engagement ring, the honeymoon is largely bullshit. It was designed to steal your money. Not help your marriage.
The message has always been the same. Show her you love her with diamonds. If that doesn’t work, try roses and a stuffed bear. And if that doesn’t work, empty your bank account into a trip to the Bahamas.
Is your marriage in trouble, already? I’m sure spending 12 hours on a plane with them, with terrible food and limited bathroom access, will help things tremendously. You’d better upgrade to first class. Because you both will be dying to get shitfaced after takeoff.
The honeymoon feels like a fading remnant of the twentieth century, a culture of outdated values. A hundred years ago, couples weren’t allowed to sleep with each other until their wedding night. They needed time to adjust to the sight and touch of each other’s genitalia. In theory at least, the woman was losing her virginity. In short, a lot of heavy shit to process.
Sex has changed. Relationships have evolved. Most of us shed our virginity in college. We don’t marry our first sexual partner. Not much of a reason exists to do a conventional honeymoon.
The first big trip my spouse and I took was to the Rocky Mountains, eight months after we tied the knot. We didn’t time it to any specific holiday or anniversary. Just saved up money, coordinated our work schedules, and then climbed in the car.
We had a good time. Hiked a lot. Enjoyed breathtaking views. Drank hot chocolate in front of a fake fireplace. Had some decent sex. I don’t have to sell you on the Rockies.
Our trip cost us under a thousand dollars.
You don’t need a travel agent or a magazine to plan a worthwhile trip for yourselves. Internet access helps. Expedia. Travelocity. Personally, I recommend typing “cheap hotels in X.” Works like a charm. And you can ask friends and coworkers for ideas and suggestions.
Whatever you do, put some thought into what *you *want. Don’t fall prey to what looks cool on Instagram. A car breakdown in Death Valley probably looks amazing with the right lens and filter. You’ll be dead, but your photos will be the envy of your social circle.