The Romance of Getting Away
2 min read
I think weekend escapes have their own kind of romance.
Not because you go particularly far, or because anything extraordinary needs to happen.
Sometimes you just need a road, a change of scenery, and someone beside you who somehow makes an ordinary Saturday feel a little brighter.
Lately, autumn has started appearing quietly.
A little chill in the mornings. Different colors in the trees. That very specific kind of air that makes you want sweaters, warm drinks, and absolutely no serious plans.
And, for me, the mountains.
There is something about being there that immediately makes everything feel cozier. Maybe it's the silence. Maybe it's waking up somewhere surrounded by nature. Or maybe it's simply having an excuse to disappear from normal life for a couple of days.
Although, if I'm being accurate, my favorite part usually happens before we've even left the bed.
Coffee in bed.
Always.
I know there are people who strongly oppose food and drinks anywhere near perfectly clean sheets.
I respect those people.
I simply don't understand them.
Because yes, there will probably be crumbs. Someone will inevitably spill something eventually. And breakfast trays are significantly less practical than Instagram has led us to believe.
But sharing that first coffee while still half asleep, hair everywhere, talking about absolutely nothing?
That's one of those tiny things I find ridiculously intimate.
Then comes the negotiation.
Five more minutes.
Which is rarely five minutes.
Especially when it's cold outside and cuddling feels like a perfectly reasonable alternative to having responsibilities.
Still, there is one thing capable of getting me out of a warm bed ridiculously early: sunrise.
I'll happily put on whatever clothes I can find, walk outside barely awake, coffee preferably still involved, just to watch the sky change.
I don't like missing it.
There's something beautiful about those few minutes before the day properly begins, when everything is quiet and the world seems to be taking its time.
And when you're watching it with someone's arms around you?
Well.
I'm a writer. I'm obviously going to romanticize that.
Maybe that's what I love most about little escapes.
They remind me that romance doesn't always arrive dressed for dinner.
Sometimes it's sleepy conversations. Cold feet finding warmer ones under the blankets. Someone pulling you closer when the temperature drops. Coffee brought to bed. A sunrise you almost slept through.
And, apparently, crumbs.
Lots of crumbs.
Perhaps the people who refuse breakfast in bed are simply protecting their sheets.
Fair enough.
But I suspect they're missing one of the sweetest parts 🤭
Because sometimes the best weekends aren't the ones where you do the most.
They're the ones where, somewhere between the coffee, the mountains, the cold nights and all those five more minutes, you quietly realize:
there's nowhere else you'd rather be.
Now, enough romanticizing from behind a screen. I have a weekend escape to get to 🤭
