They say you can’t truly get to know someone until you travelled together. Truer words have never been spoken.

The morning after our wedding Gussie woke me up with coffee and kisses. I had packed our luggages days ago, and I was really excited as we dragged them down and waited for the taxi. And waited, and waited. He was late, and we nearly missed our flight. None of us spoke a word until we were safely on the plane.

“Well, that was close”, Gussie said, with a relieved smile.

“Right”, I agreed. “I need some champagne… or something…”

I slept through most of the flight. I was really tired after the previous night’s excitement.

When we landed and left the plane, the heat was so intense, that leaving the airport felt like walking into a burning wall. I couldn’t wait to get to our hotel and take a shower. I was not ready for what waited me when we finally got there.

“I’m sorry, Madame, there seem to be a mistake”, the receptionist said with a heavy accent.

“A mistake? What do you mean?”, I demanded.

“It appears, Madame, that you don’t have a room here”, came the apologetic answer.

Apparently someone made some double bookings and our one was not registered. I was hot, angry, and defeated. Gussie remained calm for both of us.

“Can you recommend another hotel perhaps?”, he asked the receptionist.

“I see what I can do, Sir. But this is a very busy period, you must understand.”

Well, I for one did not understand. As I grew even grumpier, so did Gussie seem more chilled. For some reason this just pissed me off even more. When the receptionist came back to break the news that the only place left was the camp site, I lost it.

“You want me to spend my honeymoon in a tent?”, I asked, trying to control my voice, but ending up scaring the poor man.

“It will be fun!”, Gussie interjected before I can say anything further.

I was defeated. I followed Gussie to the coffee shop across the street where he suggested we have some breakfast before going over to the camp. I lost my appetite completely.

“This is such a disaster”, I muttered, and Gussie squeezed my hand reassuringly and told me it will be more awesome, than hanging out in a posh hotel.

I was somewhat surprised when we got to the camp. There were only a few tents, and they had a really nice bathroom. It still wasn’t what I expected though, we even had to take care of our own meals. As I can’t cook, this was just adding insult to injury really.

When Gussie suggested we check out the nearby catacombs, I reluctantly agreed. It was on our list anyway, and now we lived only a few steps away from it. But I couldn’t let go, and just kept going on about the injustice in the hotel. Gussie grabbed my hands.

“Abbie, it’s fine. I actually like this camp! Just try to enjoy yourself.”

Well, that did not help. I organized this trip, therefore it’s now my fault that we are stuck here. Gussie never said so, but it doesn’t make it less true. I turned around and went back to the camp to sulk in our tent.

By the time Gussie got back that night, I was already asleep. The next morning we had a fight. It was something stupid, really. It escalated to the point though, where Gussie just left. He grabbed one of the scooters and disappeared behind the dunes. I didn’t mind because I wanted some time for myself to think. When he didn’t come back in the afternoon, I started wandering around town, looking for him. But when he was still not back after dark, I was completely beside myself.

The tour guides in the camp said it’s too early to start officially searching for him. After they asked around at the local market they found out that Gussie bought a tent, some food, water, and a map, and told the shopkeeper he will go and check out the big pyramids. I wanted to go after him right then, but they wouldn’t let me. They said it’s dark and I will just get lost. They also refused to take me there, and muttered something about the mummy’s curse. Reluctantly, I went to bed, hoping against the odds, that Gussie will actually show up.

On the second day I was up with the sun, and still alone. With the map I got from the market I set out to find my missing husband. I couldn’t help but think of the worst case scenarios: he drowned, he got trapped in one of the caves, some locals murdered him, playing out all the bloody details in my head. When I finally saw him from the top of a dune, relief washed over me. There he was, just packing up his tent, the remains of his breakfast still scattered around. I started running. He noticed me, and smiled at me.

That enraged me. How dare he stand there, and wave at me, like nothing happened? Like I haven’t spent the last night worrying myself to death.

I started shouting as soon as I was in hearing distance. “Where the hell have you been?”

Gussie looked confused. “Well, right here…”, he looked around himself and spread out his arms.

“Don’t be funny with me!”, I continued. “I thought you are dead!”

“No you did not”, he said, and attempted to hug me. When he saw me tense, he just took a step back. “I left you a message, didn’t I?”

I had no idea what he’s talking about. “What message?”, I asked, my voice still rising.

“I sent a message from the market, to let you know I’ll spend the night out here. You know, I thought you could join me after you calmed down. When you never came, I figured you are still mad at me.”

He looked truly miserable. Suddenly I couldn’t stand it any longer and I threw myself in his arms, choking on my tears.

When I finally stopped crying we decided to head back to town. Gussie felt horrible after he learned that I haven’t received any message from him. He gave it to one of the ladies who comes to clean the camp site and she promised that she will deliver it to me.

We were almost at the camp when we came across a woman, and Gussie started waving at her. The woman waved back and crossed the street to catch up with us.

“Fatima”, Gussie greeted her. “I thought you said yesterday that you will bring my message to my wife.”

“Yes, yes,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I did, Sir, I did!”

“What?”, I turned to her, my eyebrows high, and my voice threatening with hysteria. “I’ve never received anything!”

“You?”, Fatima looked bewildered. “You not the wife? No, no, no! The lady with hat!” She shook her head vehemently.

“What do you mean I’m not the wife? And what hat?”, I took a step towards her, and she started retreating. Gussie put a hand on my shoulder.

“I sorry”, she looked close to tears. “I thought… I gave message to other lady. One with hat! One you have breakfast with!”

I was about to press it further when Gussie slapped his forehead. Apparently the day before a French lady, one with a hat, wanted to have a look at our guidebook, and sat down at Gussie’s table to take a look at the maps. I was still sulking somewhere, so I was not in sight. When Gussie asked Fatima to pass on the message she said of course, she knows the wife, thinking of the woman she saw him having breakfast with. Poor Fatima felt absolutely horrible. I patted her on the shoulder and told her it’s all fine.

The scene brought on another spectator, who turned out to be Fatima’s boss. I didn’t quite catch her name. She sent Fatima away, and Fatima was more than happy to comply.

“You must forgive her”, the lady said. “She meant well.”

“I know, and I’m sorry”, I said, and I felt myself turning red. Gussie just scratched his neck, clearly wishing he was somewhere else.

“You are the honeymoon couple, righ?”, the lady continued and I nodded in agreement.

“Well then,” she clapped her hands, “I shall leave you two alone. This is the best part of your marriage. Make sure you enjoy every moment of it, because soon you will face reality. But if you truly love each other, you will get through everything.” With that, she left us standing on the side of the road, mouth gaping.

“Did she just say it’s all downhill from here?”, I turned to Gussie.

“That’s probably not what she meant… you know, the language barrier”, he shrugged. But I couldn’t get rid of the apprehension.

The next few days were what a honeymoon should be. We took silly pictures, so that the girls will actually believe me when I tell them, that I camped for a week in the wilderness.

We spent some evenings at the camp, just enjoying the camp fire. I even learned to grill vegetables, and only burnt half of them. Although Gussie opted for the cooked food he got from one of the market stalls earlier that day.

“You sure don’t want a bite?”, I offered my skewer to Gussie.

“No, thanks. That onion looks raw”, he replied, wrinkling his nose.

“It’s meant to be like that!”, I protested. He was probably right though. It tasted like ass.

Because of the heat we mostly slept naked in our tent, and Gussie’s hands were wandering more often. It was just like in the beginning of our relationship. Constant cuddles, kisses, and I felt the attraction between us spark up intensely. There was one day, when we barely left the tent, and I’m glad the camp was mostly deserted, because I don’t know what others would have thought of all the noise we made.

On our last day we discovered a beautiful lake south from our camp. It was the clearest water I’ve ever seen in my life. As I floated there, it suddenly hit me. If there’s one thing wrong with this marriage, it’s me. I shouldn’t have said yes. I shouldn’t have started anything romantic with my best friend. He deserves so much better. Not someone who is always in doubt. I’m not wife material. I like to be independent, I’m ambitious, and I can’t always connect to people emotionally.

When Gussie called me for lunch, I was not very chatty. He soon noticed and started prodding me for answers.

“Abbie, what’s wrong?

“Why are you with me?”, I asked, instead of answering his question.

He looked taken aback. “What do you mean why? Because I love you”, he said matter-of-factly.

I jumped to my feet.

“I think you deserve better”, I said, burying my face in my hands. “Someone who is on the same level as you. Emotionally I mean.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”, he asked, his eyes darting around.

“I thought I’m ready for this… for being married”, I said as the tears started flowing. “But now I’m not sure. You need someone you can rely on. Not someone like me, who gets a nervous breakdown because of the smallest thing. Who freaks out when the smallest thing goes wrong, like at the hotel. I wanted this trip to be perfect, and I can’t even make that happen. How will I make our marriage perfect?”

Gussie considered me for a while before he spoke. “Abbie, nobody is perfect” he said in a soft voice. “Not you, not me. But you are perfect for me. I don’t know why you think this holiday is a disaster. I think it’s awesome! I love the camp, and I think it was just luck that we ended up here, and not in the hotel. You are my best friend and I know you for what, five years? We’ve been together for a bit over a year and I couldn’t ask for a better wife. You think now that we are married something should be different. But it’s not true! Everything is the same, Abbie! Everything is the same.”

I hugged him so tight, that he almost couldn’t breath. That afternoon when we got back to our camp, I told him, I have a surprise.

Gussie was a bit weary when we arrived to the catacombs we visited on our first day. I couldn’t blame him. It did not end well.

“What are we doing here?”, Gussie asked. He sounded a bit suspicious. I gave him a reassuring kiss.

“Trust me, this will be fun.”

He followed me around in silence for a while. Then he stopped.

“I thought you hated this place”, he said.

“No, I hated myself. But this place is cool. It would have been a shame to miss it, because I wanted to behave like a sulky teenager.”

“Abbie Bell”, he said, and grabbed me, “you are the best.”

He kissed me under the cool stones. I think it would have probably gone a bit further, had that tourist group not showed up. We left giggling.

I think Gussie was right. Once I accepted that nothing has to change, we are still Abbie and Gussie, two independent individuals, who just happened to wear the same surname, the weight from my chest lifted.

This will be our new adventure!