There are many milestones in a relationship – the first kiss, the first time you sleep together, the first date, the ‘six monthaversary’, the first time you get a bit kinky, meeting the parents, the day you split if off with the other people you were seeing… But without doubt, I would say, the biggest ‘make or break it’ moment is (if you can even afford it as a student) the first holiday.
Choosing the location is pretty difficult. You have to decide who’s side of the family you’re going to leech off first, if the destination suits you both. Pretty normal, right? Not so different from a family holiday. But then you get the packing: do we share bags? Why don’t we just take hand luggage? What do you mean take hand luggage I can’t get my five pairs of shoes into my hand luggage! Why the hell do you need five pairs of shoes?! HOW DARE YOU!
If you finally reach your destination unscathed there’s the big problem of what to do. On my first holiday with my first boyfriend it was obvious we hadn’t filled our days with enough to do, and after a year we didn’t have that much to say to each other, so we spent five days abroad sunbathing and playing angry birds; reading and playing angry birds; travelling and playing angry birds and not having a lot of sex and playing angry birds.
Another couple I know ended up in Edinburgh and bickering the whole time they were there: “At one point we were both sitting in that grassy bit in St Andrew’s square with our backs to each other! And it gets worse – I was in a full length dress after we abandoned dinner early because we were getting rowdy… and not in the way we used to.”
I, myself, recently went to Paris with my fiancée (guess we should have done the holiday test first, but luckily we were fine) and had a fantastic time. Needless to say there was drama – mostly because of my getting the Eurostar time wrong, or forgetting to secure beds for the night in London until the day before – but that was what made it so much fun! We could laugh about it all day and even after over a year we could still sit up all night talking. When I got stuck in immigration control and he was forced to get on a train he did the most romantic thing – ran off the Eurostar at the last minute yelling “Non!” at the security guards, running round them and running straight into me at the gate. Think we’re in the “winning” category.
He did start to play Angry Birds on the way back which I initially found very worrying but, then again, I had my nose in a book and at that moment neither of us were particularly interested in joining the train equivalent of the ‘mile-high club’. Especially after all the talking in gay Paree…
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