After months of disagreements with my husband over where to honeymoon and when, I decided to take one by myself.
My husband and I have the rest of our lives to travel together. But we struggled to settle on a destination for our honeymoon — while I yearned for a European adventure, he imagined basking in the sun at a Caribbean all-inclusive resort.
I knew that if I waited around for us to compromise, I’d feel resentful down the road. Because we had no kids, it felt like the perfect time for me to leave the US and explore another part of the world. Plus, he’s right in the middle of a job transition; I’m far more willing and eager to travel than he is.
Vienna seemed like a no-brainer for my “solomoon” for several reasons. Firstly, it’s incredibly safe — in fact, Austria is the fifth-highest country on the Global Peace Index, which measures societal safety and security. Considering that I’d be traveling without my partner and that I’m a woman, this was important to me.
Vienna is also known for its legendary coffeehouse culture, impressive wineries, and rich musical history — all major draws for me as a latte lover, wine enthusiast, and professional musician.
While I spent less than a week in Vienna, my travels proved more transformative than I could have imagined.
I reinforced my independence
Marriage means merging lives with someone else in several ways. You share assets. You share debts. You may even share a last name. While I find this beautiful — or I wouldn’t have said “I do” — a part of me still clamored to prove that I was a separate being. My travels did just that.
On my third day in Vienna, I casually navigated the busy shopping neighborhood Goldenes Quartier. I stumbled on the perfect café for a craveworthy cappuccino, found the authentic Austrian sweater boutique I’d been searching for, and located a candy shop for some sweet Viennese souvenirs. This feat was all the more satisfying because I managed it all on my own.
I reconnected with forgotten passions
Traveling with a partner certainly has lots of perks. One of the downsides, though, is that you often need to compromise on your itinerary. My husband couldn’t care less about museums, for example, and I’d rather not drag him through an exhibit he’s completely uninterested in, so I usually skip them altogether. Since he doesn’t drink anymore, it doesn’t make sense for us to visit a brewery or winery while on vacation. Likewise, to his dismay, we rarely go scuba diving and parachuting since I’m not an adventure-sports enthusiast.
I had an opportunity to miss my husband
As the saying goes, absence makes the heart grow fonder. As grateful as I am for my experience in Vienna, I did find myself missing my husband. I knew he would have shared in my amusement and delight when discovering that if you order an “eiskaffee” in Vienna, you won’t get a cold brew but rather a coffee with a scoop of ice cream on top. I imagined him sitting beside me people-watching in scenic Resselpark, offering his hilariously astute commentary.
On my last night, I popped a Viennese truffle into my mouth and sent my husband a rather dramatic WhatsApp message: “I’m so afraid I’ll never have the chance to come back here again.”
“We will,” he wrote back. “I promise.”
There it was: the word “we.” The idea of sharing the next travel experience as a unit sounded comforting. And in an unexpected twist, my solo moon might have settled the debate on where we’ll spend our long-awaited honeymoon after all.