If you had told me a couple of years ago that I’d be honeymooning in Vegas of all places, I’d have called you crazy, or stupid. Afterall, you’d be talking to me—a recovering alcoholic with PTSD, who hates crowds and staying up late. Plus, to think my wife, Gabby—someone who is also a quiet, non-gambling type—would also choose this wildcard destination, let’s just say I’d have lost any bets on that happening. And yet, something drew us to Las Vegas. Something simple yet sacred to us both…

Food!

Gabby and I love sharing a meal together and enjoy going out to explore new things. We’ve also watched many YouTube videos showcasing the best and most popular restaurants in Vegas and it seemed to have it all—an opinion heavily influenced by Safiya Nygaard’s video on hitting up Every Celebrity Chef Restaurant On The Vegas Strip. So, our honeymoon had to be Vegas. We just had to get there and navigate the craziness of it all while staying calm, sober, and not sending any frustration or fear outward towards one another. Our first test, was the airport.

**Excited for our honeymoon, just look at my vacation shirt!**

Even with getting to the airport two hours before our flight, I still had this urge to rush though checking in and TSA. Every cell in me was telling my brain to go go go! It would be the only way to calm down. For a couple of years now, I’ve been working to lose weight. So far, I’ve lost fifty pounds, and that was in part because of my Fitbit. The reminders to move and the ability see how many steps I need to take helps tremendously. It also detects my BPM, reporting on the steady—or not so steady—beating of my heart. Walking into the airport, my heartrate was at 90BPM. Anticipating a crowd pushed me and my anxiety faster.

I handed my ID to the TSA Agent—100BPM.

I took my backpack off. Fumbled with my belt. Then stood awkward in socked feet—115BPM.
I tiptoed into the body scanner, positioned my feet wrong, didn’t know where to put my arms, was flagged for a pat down, told I forgot my wallet, given a hand pat, saw Gabby waiting for me, patted again, given the all clear—125BPM.

I struggled to get my belt back on, put my shoes on in a hurry (the back of it folded in on itself) and strained my heel, stuffed everything in one pocket, grabbed my luggage and backpack, and walked on with one messed up shoe—120BPM.

Found a quiet and secluded spot near our gate, bought snacks and water, held my wife’s hand, focused on my breathing—110BPM.

And that’s about where my heartrate stayed. Gabby’s was pretty similar, so we were grateful for our secluded spot alone, together, where we were able to text people, talk, and take our first picture of the honeymoon. Our favorite thing to talk about while waiting, was speculating how nice First Class was going to be. Neither of us had ever been up in First Class, and knew we probably never would again, so we’d been looking forward to it’s perceived luxury and amenities. Time flew, we boarded our first plane with ease and it was…

Fine.

Like the leg room was a little better but it was a tiny plane, and the First Class section didn’t seem that noticeably different than the rest of the sections. Gabby’s window seat didn’t even have a window next to her. Well, OK, it had part of a window, but I’m pretty sure her expensive ass ticket didn’t say part of a window seat on it.

Oh no, was First Class not going to be worth it?

We told each other not to worry about money on this trip, but I couldn’t help but wonder if we paid extra for nothing.

We landed in Detroit and made it to our next gate while in awe of all the restaurants and shops around us. So much to do. We wish we had more time to kill, but had just enough to look around and take a picture of me with a giant gumball machine. It was nothing like the tiny metal one my dad had that only cost a penny for a stale piece of gum. I miss that gum.

Once in our next flight, my concerns about First Class evaporated. The seats were bigger, leg room was roomier, there were monitors for watching in-flight movies, and Gabby’s window was actually next to her as a window seat should be.

Once in the air and on our way to Vegas, Gabby and I melted into our comfy seats, put on Wicked, and waited for our first meal of the trip.

Now, it’s not like Gabby and I haven’t traveled together before. We became friends during a study abroad trip to Ireland and have taken three trips (at least) to DC for a long weekend. One of those times was to see Wicked at the Kennedy Center. So we know we can travel successfully, and Wicked is special to us.

We really liked the movie and it became better when our meals arrived.

Gabby ordered beef short ribs with au gratin potatoes and a ratatouille vegetable medley in a cream sauce, paired with a side salad and custard dessert; meanwhile I ordered the chicken teriyaki on white rice with roasted veggies, with a side salad, and same little custard dessert.

My meal was good, but Gabby’s was unreal for an airplane meal! Not the best short ribs either of us had had, but it was by far the best meal in the sky we’ve ever experienced. That and the custard dessert were the highlights. I’d take either right now in a heartbeat.

With our bellies full, we watched the rest of Wicked, hand in hand—80BPM.

As we neared Vegas, Gabby looked out her window and could see the lights approaching. There were brighter than we expected, Luxor of course being the beacon into the sky that this be Vegas—come party here. Watching the dancing lights below us was like star gazing, but the stars were on the ground, and we would soon be engulfed by their light. It was magical.

Landing, and getting our bags was easy, and so too was finding the taxi line. Within seconds, we were in a cab, and on our way to Park MGM for our week-long stay in a Staywell Suite. The entire ride, Gabby and I whispered to one another while pointing, and taking pictures. Catching glimpses of New York New York, Luxor, and all the shops we’d planned to stop at. All the things we saw in videos, all the things drawing us here, were now in front of us, and it was truly magical. In that cab, we were not fighting our way through crowds, we were together, just the two of us.

Exhaustion and excitement floated me along to the check-in tablet, and then to my room, where we were greeted by what would essentially be our apartment for the next week. It was perfect. Clean smelling (rare in Vegas), huge, warm, and just right for my wife and myself. We looked through our giant ass window into the night and held each other while gazing out at the valley of lights.

Travel Day 0 was over. The real honeymoon was but a sleep away.

Day Zero: Heading to Vegas in Style

Day One: Testing The Waters