What happens when a Dirty Weekend Away turns into Dirty Weekend In Hell? When a romanticised expectation of your first mini-break away sours when you realise he’s driving you to the local b&b not the fancy hotel on the corner. Or when he’s bought tickets for a gig in the country, when you thought it was in Paris.
Is the weekend doomed from the start, and does it go downhill from there, avalanching into a spectacularly unsavoury version of The Honeymoon?
The simple problem with all things is expectation. Bridget Jones was taken for a mini-break by Mark Darcy in The Edge Of Reason, only to find that she was throwing herself in reckless out-of-control abandon down the snowy knolls of Austria, having to take a pregnancy test the following day, while Mark Darcy got to ski with the scorchingly-hot Rebecca for the rest of the weekend. Sound familiar?
It’s safe to assume, at least by my standards of high expectation, that most of the romantic getaways you’ll take in your lifetime, won’t be amazing.
Let's face it, even with the right man, when did any holiday go 100 percent according to plan? You could extend this even further to weddings and other large romantic events. You have the flowers, the dress, the DJ and a church full of people. Everything’s perfect… until Iceland explodes.
I have a friend who was nuptially sorted; prepared for every wedding disaster that may occur with a well thought out back-up plan in place. Prepared for everything, except a volcano, that is. And now, even with a marquee full of flowers, the MC, priest and the best man were stranded in Europe over her big day.
Dirty Weekends Away, at least in my humble opinion, are going to lead you into the murky waters of spontaneous improvisation. Maybe it’s God punishing you for having too much pre-marital sex, or more likely, things don’t always go quite according to plan because you’re thinking about the orgasmic shaggathon you’re about to embark on.
Anybody have an disasterous weekend aways they'd like to share?