The honeymoon is over!

Just 16 months back, we were on our honeymoon, which was planned for months and itinerary discussed over several hours of late night phone calls. Fast forward to present, we are no longer footloose nor do we fancy some exotic locales. We've settled into the routines of life (read) work, paying the ever-increasing bills and lusting after a dream home (and what not).

The priorities have certainly changed. We have individual goals to achieve, a job that keeps us on our toes and ofcourse, the ever changing financial picture which keeps us at a safe distance from dreaming about Swiss and Venetian getaways.

But a three-day long weekend was just too much to keep us home, or rather keep me at home. Last Monday, I wailed (to my i-banker hubby), "We have to get away. everybody in my office is going. They ask me if I am going anyplace and I don't want to look foolish."

He tried talking me out of it, "Let them say na. Remember, we decided that it will be Goa and we will do a luxury vacation." I was just too stuck.

"No." A louder wail and cranky-faced, I cribbed further, "Please let us go somewhere nearby, I will book it online. I will do all research. You just come." I coaxed and coaxed, until he had to way to squirm outta it. For the record -- my hubby is one of those who is more than content to stay back home on holidays and tries hard to keep me away from spending my last rupee on shopping and buying stuff for the house.

But planning a travel all by yourself can be a lot of work. It's not like planning your honeymoon, where you know your partner would not snap back with a retort, "...I told you so..." No wonder the word travel finds its source from the French word travail.

Next day, I promptly called up hotels in Mahabaleshwar, Matheran, Dahanu, Bordi, Alibaug, Murud-Janjira and even Mandhwa. But none of the decent ones (ones that were recommended by people and colleagues) were available. It seemed entire Mumbai had conspired with my hubby to block out all rooms for the coming weekend.

I told myself, 'You're a LEO, Priyanka. You can't give up this easily.' I involved a few other friends and they in turn brought more contacts to help us zero down on a resort in Igatpuri for the weekend along with a day's drive to nearby Bhandardara.

Like always, I was the planner and my hubby chose to to leave me at work. He kept underlining, through the 3-hour drive to Igatpuri, "I hope the vacation doesn't turn into a disaster. Have you booked? Is food included? Will it be a decent villa? Will they serve alcohol?" And it went on. Yes, it didn't come cheap but the time spent away from the hustling-bustling Mumbai city was well-spent. Or so, I like to say.