Honeymoon happenings: part one

It’s raining, my hubby is at work and I have cookies in the oven. Just like good wives should, right? So after a quick phone chat with my sister, she inspired me to get blogging about our honeymoon.

I, along with a bazillion other unsuspecting bride-to-be’s, envisioned being whisked away after the wedding on a marvelous, picturesque tropical getaway. Our honeymoon was by all means marvelous and picturesque, but amidst the Caribbean sun, poolside cocktails and romantic strolls on the beach, we encountered a few glitches along the way.

We boarded a packed flight in Miami destined for the lush island of St. Lucia. One glance around the plane and it quickly became apparent that 99% of the travelers were all in fact honeymooners as well. I couldn’t decide what gave it away. Was it the multitude of large, blinding left hand rocks and perfect French manicures, the proud wearers of the glittery BRIDE tees, or the gal in first-class still wearing her veil?

Because the flight was bursting with mushy couples, my duo and I got separated and instead of cuddling up to my hubby of 36 hours, I got plopped next to Mr. and Mrs. PDA for the 4-hour flight. It was a breath of balmy tropical air to get off that plane and begin our week of rest and relaxation. After some minor chaos through customs and baggage, we were loaded into a cab bound for our resort, East Winds Inn.

The hour-long ride through the mountainous terrain of the island did a number on my stomach, but we arrived in one piece and checked into our ocean side villa. Bless my man and his devotion to take charge and take care of me. He was adamant about being on passport duty during our voyage and happily kept track of our money and travel documents. We arrived in our room and I’d barely had time to scope the free bath amenities when I heard a muffled, “You have the passports, right?” Sure don’t, babe. My visions of a perfect first night on our island escape slowly faded as my red-faced husband stomped back to the front desk to make some calls.

It truly is a miracle that the passports got turned in at the airport and our resort was able to track them down. And PTL (praise the Lord) for the laidback Caribbean’s, because all it took to get them back was a hand-written note of permission to be delivered by a cab driver. One afternoon, while enjoying a dip in the pool, the passports were safely in our hands. Literally. Soaking wet or not, we had them back.

Despite being known by staff as “that couple that lost their passports”, it was an incredible trip and the perfect way to spend our first days as husband and wife. So tonight, I hope to leave you with a smile and a little reminder to always triple check for your passports.