7 steps for surviving a destination wedding

by Tom Johansmeyer on

It always sounds like it’s going to be fun. Your friend is getting married somewhere exotic and has invited you to come along. What’s not to love? Really, everything. Destination weddings are recipes for disaster. They are even worse when it’s your spouse, boyfriend or girlfriend or family member who has the connection. Quickly, you find yourself surrounded by people who don’t interest you in an environment dominated by group activities.

It seems like there’s no way out. Just accept the fact that you’ll sit through many meals over several days with the same people. You’ll hear the same self-important douche hold forth over the mundane details of his unimportant life. Friends of the bride will jockey for favor in front of you. And, you’ll be somewhere incredibly interesting and unable to enjoy it … unless you follow my advice.

Before I get started, a few notes for anyone inclined to comment on this story:

  • Yes, I am lucky to be married, and no, you wouldn’t want to be married to me
  • I know you wouldn’t tolerate my behavior at your wedding
  • You’d probably kick me out (and I’d be fine with that)

Okay, my destination wedding survival tips are after the jump!
1. Become a smoker
If you aren’t a smoker yet, take up the filthy habit. It’s a great way to disappear for lengths of time that are entirely up to you. Everyone will be disgusted with you, but they probably would be anyway. So, now you have the chance to disappear for a while, and nobody will follow you because they think your habit is vile. It’s perfect! I happen to be a cigar smoker, which is even better. Nobody has any interest in coming near me, and one smoke buys me a minimum of 45 minutes of solitude.

This tactic becomes even more powerful when you combine it with one of the others, particularly bringing a book or being involved in work-related phone calls or e-mailing. These other activities give you something to do when you’re smoking. At the destination wedding I attended in Helsinki, I just called my father. When someone walked by, I put a panicked look on my face to make it look like work. I doubt anybody believed me, but I figured I got points for trying.

2. Don’t be afraid to piss off your spouse/partner
All it takes is one public argument to embarrass your reason for being at this event, and you will have a free pass for the rest of the trip. Why? There is nothing worse than fighting in front of people whose opinions matter to you. But, if you are dragged to the wedding at your partner’s behest, you have nothing to lose. One scuffle, and you can do what you want. You’ll be amazed at what your significant other will endure to avoid a public display of contempt.

You will have an unspoken strain permeating your relationship during the trip. The good news, however, is that you’ll be forgiven when you get home. Things that happen on the road tend to stay there. If you can handle a week of a mild discomfort, everything else is easy.

3. Bring something to read
This really is the apex of antisocial behavior. There is nothing quite like cracking open Mary Roach’s Spook during the wedding ceremony (funny that I can be guilty of this but not feel guilty at all). When you read at a gathering, you’re sending a pretty clear message. Nobody will bother you. They know to stay away.

Okay, since there’s no such thing as a free lunch, I’m going to suggest that you bring Best Sex Writing 2009 to the next destination wedding you’re forced to attend. There are several reasons for you to read this important work of non-fiction. First, there’s nothing like that four-letter word in a three-letter word’s body to offend everyone around you. It’s like cigar smoke on steroids. Next, actually reading the book will show you that there are many important issues regarding sexuality that should be explored. Finally, I have an essay in it. I’d like to have an essay in the 2010 volume (HINT, HINT, Rachel Kramer Bussel!).

4. Remember that you’re indispensable at work
Before I realized the power of the three tools above, I found myself at a rehearsal dinner (#1) without a cigars, (#2) while trying to keep my wife happy and (#3) sans book. Needless to say, this is the last time I let that happen while stuck at this wedding in Finland. So, I had to pretend that I was working on a critical problem for my employer … you know, the folks who “pay the bills.” It’s hard to say “no” to that! As I pecked away at my Blackberry, of course, my colleagues were getting incredibly annoyed. They actually had work to do.

For extra effect, call someone (anyone will do), and engage in some talk that sounds business-related. Then, end it with, “C’mon, man. I’m just trying to get away for a couple of days. Can’t you have [random name] handle it?” Pause, sigh and continue, “Yeah, I know it’s important. I’ll be available if you need me, but only if you need me.” Nobody will believe you (unless you’re a better liar than I am), but at least you’ll know you’ve tried to make an excuse.

Tip: If you’re phone doesn’t ring, answering it isn’t believable. So, pretend you got an e-mail asking you to call someone. Or, e-mail a co-worker and ask that he or she call you.

5. Argue with people, preferably family members of the bride or groom
If you are an awful conversationalist, nobody will want to talk to you. So, try to drive all discussions toward the big three: politics, religion and money. Make sure you are as contrarian as possible. Surrounded by conservatives? You just became a liberal! Bring up the lost promise of the Dukakis campaign. Take a stand, and make your point aggressively. Above all else, know that you are always right, and use that position of intellectual superiority to guide every interaction.

Now, you have to be careful with this one. If you are too pushy and rude, the whole thing will blow up in your face. Being left alone is a lot different from being banned from all activities. So, don’t raise your voice or insult anyone (directly). Just make it clear that you are never going to agree with whoever is stuck talking to you. Be dismissive. That way, you can poke your target without being overtly rude.

6. Avoid the shithead
You’ll always find at least one. At the last wedding I attended, there were several (one in particular was a douche with an internship who believed it mattered). Arguing with this guy (#5) will not cut your way. He’s an asshole, and because of his long ties to some schmuck involved with the wedding, he can get away with it. You can’t. Engaging this presence will only be trouble for you.

Avoid, avoid, avoid.

You’ll know who the asshole is within the first hour of the multi-day destination wedding experience. Avoid him at all costs. Run to the bathroom if you must, just to wait for the coast to clear. If he’s approaching, pull out your Blackberry and pretend you just got an urgent e-mail. Just get away, and stay away.

7. Choose what to skip
Especially for some psychotic brides, everything may be scripted. So, you could wind up staring down several days in a cool place with absolutely no freedom to explore what you want. That’s bullshit. You know it; I know it. Don’t treat the itinerary as mandatory. Feel free to blow off dinners or gatherings in order to go see or do what turns you on.

My first night in Helsinki, I skipped some quasi-bachelor party (I don’t do saunas, and they don’t do strippers) to explore the city’s art galleries. It was the best night of my trip. Sure, I got some grief for not being a “team player,” but I didn’t care. I was actually happy.

Remember, ev
ery day is a struggle to preserve your sanity.

Don’t step off the plane planning to enjoy yourself. That’s not why you’re attending the destination wedding. Instead, develop little tactics for extracting what pleasure you can from the experience without damaging any relationships irreparably.

You won’t be happy, and you aren’t going to make anybody happy. Don’t try: just get by.

[Photos from Migrant Blogger]

Say “I do” at the airport

by Abha Malpani on

I’m not sure if I’ll ever get married, but if I do, I’m clear that I’d want it to be as quick as possible, a couple of minutes is what would work best for me. Being Indian, a wedding under four days is sacrilege, but oh well.

A registered wedding at the court was what I thought the only option, a super boring option indeed, until I read in USA Today about quickie weddings possible at the airport!

At Los Angeles International Airport, a man called “The Officiant Guy” can marry you without witnesses and in full confidentiality. You don’t even need to be an LA resident! At Sweden’s Stockholm-Arlanda Airport, you can arrange to be married in the airport church or by a registrar; last year the 500 couples got hitched there. “Say Yes and Go” marriages sound awesome too — say “I do” and jump straight onto a plane, a common wedding style in Amsterdam’s Schiphol Airport.

However, if that’s too simple and you want a bit of a novel themed wedding, you can tie the knot inside a parked Concorde Airplane at England’s Manchester Airport, and Schiphol Airport has a wedding planner who will organize it the way you want at the airport (boarding pass style invites? Air crew uniforms as outfits?). The airport will even allow you to have a champagne brunch, and should you want to take all your guests on a trip straight after, a special “Ticket to Paradise” package deal can be sorted out.

So if you are looking for a different, cheaper, and quicker way to get married, you might want to ring your nearest airport!

That’s a weird airport story. Check out these weird airplane stories:

Photo of the day (02/11/08)

by Iva Skoch on

Granted, this photo doesn’t exactly scream “travel”, but who knows, the bride could have traveled from anywhere to get married at Meiji Shrine in Tokyo. Plus, Valentine’s day is coming up, which gives us a little creative “travel/love” license.

It is an amazing moment the photographer, LeeLeFever, has captured here. The snow. The stunning bride, radiating happiness, surrounded by two people who clearly take the situation very seriously. The detail of their clothes. Did I mention the snow?

***To have your photo considered for the Gadling Photo of the Day, go over to the Gadling Flickr site and post it.***

Band on the Run: My First and Last Gig as a Hawaiian Wedding Singer

by Ember Swift on

Ember Swift, Canadian musician and touring performer, will be keeping us up-to-date on what it’s like to tour a band throughout North America. Having just arrived back from Beijing where she spent three months (check out her “Canadian in Beijing” series), she offers a musician’s perspective on road life. Enjoy!


The wedding was beautiful. I sang my songs. There were two white doves that expertly landed right behind the bride and groom during the ceremony. People cried. Then, they were married. My sister is now a wife and I got a brother-in-law in the deal. I’d say I fared fairly well, if you ask me.

People came up to me afterwards and asked if I would be singing at the reception. I said “No, I’m done” and then smiled happily and they looked at me sadly. Relief must have flowed out from the shape of my lips in that particular smile and I mistakenly conveyed to a number of people a series of possible misunderstandings: either I was glad it was all over because I didn’t enjoy it, or was nervous and was relieved to be over the nerves, or was unhappy with my performance or was simply bitter at having had to sing at my sister’s wedding — none of which were true!

“You have such a beautiful voice, dear, we’d love to hear you sing some more.” This was always delivered encouragingly and as though I ought not to deprive everyone of my voice and music for the rest of the day. I realized that I couldn’t possibly explain to anyone here that gigging at a family wedding was the last thing I wanted to do more of. It’s just not my thing. It’s a one-time experience and I am glad it’s done. I was happy to have made my sister happy with the gift of song, but was equally happy that the gift had been delivered.

I thanked them for their kindness but explained that there was already entertainment planned at the reception.

I also silently thanked the universe for not having pre-decided that I’d be it.

The reception was held on a boat. It was a dinner boat cruise called “The Maui Princess” and there were about one hundred and twenty diners, only forty of whom were part of the wedding party.

There, on the main deck, was a woman and a guitar and a device that played the backing tracks for dozens of famous songs. She was installed behind two metal railings and the sound system piped through both the main deck and up to the upper deck where the dinners were served. Her spot was right in front of the restrooms. She played for three hours and I felt increasing sympathy the longer her gig stretched.

And increasing gratitude that it was her and not me who was employed in this capacity.

She played a series of famous songs and chose fairly well. She had to do certain songs like the Hawaiian Love Song (ever heard of it? Me neither, until now) but generally she chose some good songs by Sting, Peter Gabriel, Stevie Nicks, even Bonnie Tyler (and you know the one!) And her guitar chops were pretty good.

Still, I felt for her. In between songs, she was obligated to make announcements about the ship’s progress, to tell people not to bang on the railings, to let people know about the “safety features on the vessel.” For me, this would be the closest thing to truly being a “flight attendant” (which I sing about in my song “Ten Pin” as a metaphor for performing a gig where no one is paying attention to you) although I guess in this case you’d have to call it “doubling as a ‘float’ attendant” (har har) because her job was so multi-faceted.

The cruise was brief but enjoyable. About two hours of beautiful scenery and free alcohol. Well, three per person but there was hardly any moving to get more at the bar as the chairs were bolted to the deck and everyone had a hard time getting around.

I brought my own food (no vegan fare was possible in the set menus) and I ate leftover veggie sushi to my table partners’ envy. Their meals were good too, they said, but mine looked especially appetizing and fresh. I wondered if that was the moment where I should have shared, but I just smiled and said “oh, how rare it is that my fellow diners are jealous of my food! Eat your heart out!” and took a big mouthful. They laughed.

(Once in awhile, it’s nice to have the upper hand when meat eaters so often drill me about how I could possibly have enough energy to survive eating as I do. My answer is generally that I haven’t eaten meat or fish for seventeen and a half years, so I guess I’m surviving. Thriving even! That usually shuts people up unless they are particularly obnoxious…)

Just before we docked, the crew started to dump the unconsumed Mai Tai (mixed Hawaiin drinks) into the ocean. I hated to see this. I mean, sure it’s not toxic waste, but does the ocean really need alcohol and corn syrup and food colouring? I don’t think so. On second thought, do we?

The whole wedding party then headed for drinks at another location where my sister wanted to have the traditional “first dance” with her new husband and then “the second dance” with our father. The restaurant manager heard her say this and was very clear that it simply wasn’t possible. Apparently, if there’s dancing on the premises, it reclassifies the venue as a bar and then changes the nature of their liquor license.

My sister looked crestfallen when she got this news and while the manager was still standing there, I piped in “Well, what if we dance on the sidewalk?” There was a pause and then the manager looked at me thoughtfully and she said, “Uh, you could do that. We don’t own the sidewalk! That’d be fine.” She smiled wistfully at the idea, I thought, and headed back behind the bar.

And so that’s what they did.

A portable music player was brought out and the gathering of wedding goers took to the sidewalk and we all watched my sister and her new husband dance (to “Amazed“) and then my sister and father dance (and simultaneously cry on each other’s shoulders to “I Loved Her First“) and then the night came to a close.

I had made it through a whole day in heels.

And my Hawaiian wedding singing days are over.

Aloha!

(which simultaneously means “hello,” “good-bye” and “love” as well as “mercy,” “compassion” and “peace.”)

Getting Married? Here’s Some Good Advice.

by Brett Atkinson on

My recent post about the wedding at Prague’s Ruzyne airport got me recalling my own marriage to Carol in 2003. Travel’s a big part of our life together. Even though we’re both from Auckland, we actually met in Thailand, and more often than not it’s her photographs which complement my words.

When we got married we’d already been living together for several years, so certainly didn’t need anything to set up a shared home. Instead we made a radical travel-oriented change to the traditional wedding register. Rather than ask for toasters, blenders and bed linen, our wedding invitation listed a range of experiences across five countries we would be visiting on our honeymoon. Guests were invited to “buy” us one of the experiences which ranged from cheap cafe meals to a helicopter ride around Manhattan.

When we got to each experience we had a local take a photo of us which we then sent out with our “Thank You” cards once we got home.

Cynical readers might say we were “just asking for money”, and hey, they may be right.

But the idea was a real hit with our guests and we made sure we didn’t get loads of unwanted stuff clogging up our small apartment. And we had a longer honeymoon than we could have normally afforded.