The Honeymoon That Became A Rescue Mission

I had promised my wife, Sophie, that our honeymoon would be perfect.

I used the word perfect repeatedly during the planning stages. I promised romantic sunsets, luxurious accommodation, extraordinary wildlife, beautiful dinners and enough unforgettable experiences to make our friends jealous for the next twenty years.

Sophie believed me.

That was the problem.

We arrived in Kenya full of excitement. Our safari began in Amboseli, where the landscapes were beautiful and elephants wandered across the plains beneath the distant outline of Mount Kilimanjaro.

Our guide, Joseph, was wonderful. He was knowledgeable, patient and very good at making the experience feel personal.

On our first evening, he arranged for us to enjoy a special dinner at the lodge.

There were candles, flowers and a beautiful view of the surrounding landscape.

Sophie was delighted.

“Daniel,” she whispered, “this is exactly what I wanted.”

I squeezed her hand.

“Nothing but the best for my wife.”

I was feeling very pleased with myself.

Then a monkey stole our dessert.

It happened so quickly that I barely saw it. One moment, a small plate of cake was sitting beside Sophie’s coffee. The next, a monkey had appeared, grabbed the cake and vanished into the darkness.

Sophie stared at the empty plate.

I stared at the empty plate.

The waiter stared at the empty plate.

Then Sophie started laughing.

I tried to maintain my composure.

“Darling, I assure you that this was not part of the romantic package.”

She laughed harder.

The staff kindly brought another dessert, and the evening recovered beautifully.

I thought we had survived our first honeymoon disaster.

I was wrong.

The following morning, we went on a game drive. Sophie was determined to see a lion, and Joseph had promised that we would look for them.

We spent hours exploring the park, watching elephants, birds and other wildlife. Eventually, Joseph spotted a lion resting in the grass.

Sophie was thrilled.

“Oh, Daniel! Look at him!”

I raised my camera.

I had spent weeks studying photography tutorials, determined to return home with professional-looking images. I had learnt about shutter speed, aperture and composition.

I had not learnt how to operate my camera properly.

I pressed a button.

The screen went black.

I pressed another.

The camera began recording a video of my own finger.

“Daniel,” Sophie whispered, “what are you doing?”

“Taking a photograph.”

“Of what?”

I looked at the screen.

“Something very interesting, apparently.”

Joseph leaned over and helped me adjust the settings.

By the time I was ready, the lion had stood up and walked behind a bush.

Sophie looked at me.

I looked at Sophie.

“On the bright side,” I said, “I have a lovely photograph of a bush.”

She laughed so hard that Joseph had to turn away.

That evening, I decided to make up for the photographic disaster by arranging another romantic surprise.

I spoke to the lodge staff, who kindly helped me organise a small celebration for Sophie. Everything was arranged beautifully, and I was determined that nothing would go wrong.

Then I discovered that I had left my wallet in the safari vehicle.

I hurried outside to find Joseph.

He was helping another guest prepare for the next day’s drive.

“Joseph, I need your help.”

He looked at me with the expression of a man who had learnt that my requests were rarely simple.

“What has happened, Daniel?”

“My wallet is missing.”

“Where did you last see it?”

“In the vehicle.”

“Then we will check.”

We searched the vehicle carefully. No wallet.

We checked the lodge reception. No wallet.

I returned to our room, increasingly worried.

Sophie was waiting for me.

“Darling, what is wrong?”

“Nothing.”

She looked at me.

“Daniel.”

“I have misplaced my wallet.”

She sat down.

“Of course you have.”

I began to explain that I had probably left it in the vehicle, that we would find it, that everything would be fine.

She listened patiently.

Then she said, “Daniel, we are in Africa, surrounded by beautiful wildlife, staying in a lovely lodge, and you are worried about a wallet?”

“We are in Africa, surrounded by beautiful wildlife, staying in a lovely lodge, and you are worried about a wallet?”

When she put it that way, I felt rather foolish.

We eventually found it tucked into a pocket of my camera bag.

I had searched the bag twice.

I have no explanation for this.

Sophie hugged me.

“Now, can we please enjoy our honeymoon?”

I promised that we would.

The following days were wonderful. We enjoyed the safari, took photographs, watched elephants and spent our evenings talking about the things we had seen.

Then we headed to the coast.

Diani Beach was beautiful, and I was determined that this part of the trip would be calm, romantic and entirely free of disasters.

We arrived at our hotel, unpacked and went for a walk along the beach.

The sunset was magnificent.

I took Sophie’s hand.

“This,” I said, “is what I have been planning for.”

She smiled.

“I love it.”

We walked along the sand, enjoying the ocean and the peaceful evening.

Then I stepped into a shallow pool of water and lost my sandal.

It floated away.

I chased it.

Sophie laughed.

I chased it faster.

The sandal turned in the waves, drifted towards the shore and finally landed beside a group of tourists who were enjoying their evening walk.

One of them picked it up and handed it to me.

“Having a good honeymoon?” he asked.

“Wonderful,” I replied.

He looked at my wet trousers.

“Clearly.”

By then, Sophie was laughing so hard that she had to sit down.

I returned to her, holding my rescued sandal.

“Darling,” I said, “I believe the ocean is testing me.”

She wiped her eyes.

“No, Daniel. I think the universe is trying to teach you something.”

“What?”

“To stop making plans for perfection.”

I looked at the sunset, the beautiful beach and the woman I had married.

She was right.

The honeymoon did not need to be perfect. It needed to be ours.

We spent the rest of the trip enjoying the coast, trying new activities and laughing about everything that had gone wrong. We even began keeping a list of our mishaps.

At the top of the list was the stolen dessert.

Second came the photograph of the bush.

Third was the missing wallet.

Fourth was the sandal that nearly escaped to Zanzibar.

By the time we returned home, the list had grown to two pages.

Our friends asked whether we had enjoyed our honeymoon.

I told them it had been extraordinary.

“Did everything go according to plan?” one of them asked.

I looked at Sophie.

She smiled.

“Absolutely not,” I replied.

“Then what made it so special?”

I thought about the elephants in Amboseli, the beautiful coast, the kindness of the people we met and all the moments when we had laughed until our stomachs hurt.

“Because,” I said, “we discovered that the best memories aren’t always the ones you plan.”

Sophie took my hand.

And for once, I managed to keep hold of it without losing anything.

Not even a sandal.