It was a glorious wedding — the stuff dreams are made of.
And after six months of planning a wedding and one week of parties, dinners and get-togethers with family and friends before the big day, the bride and I wanted a weeklong incommunicado honeymoon.
Canada seemed the logical choice. Quiet, simple, plenty of places to get lost — and enough extra roaming charges on our cell phones to convince us to turn them off.
We were sitting on a bench outside the Festival Theatre waiting to see 42nd Street when I realized our “get-away” honeymoon hadn’t gotten away enough.
When you overhear a couple of couples sitting on the next bench talking about Temple Israel, you get the feeling you’re sitting on a park bench in Birmingham, Mich., not Stratford, Ontario.
When you spot a former JN editor and his family walking into the theater among a crowd of hundreds a moment later, you’re honeymooning at the Plaza Deli.
Obviously, we weren’t “north” enough. So we loaded the beige beast and followed the compass farther up the road.
Stopping at the visitors’ bureau outside of town, we were told that a room was available for two nights at a “resort” (American translation: room with a working refrigerator and a bar near the front desk, which doubles as the waitress station).
Checking in a few minutes later, we met the owner who grew up in Sterling Heights. No escaping it.
With no Wi-Fi, no cell phone and no interest in the world outside our line of sight, we exhaled and relaxed.
We didn’t read anything except roadside historical markers and wine lists.
We didn’t watch anything close to American news — nothing relating to smoke jumpers fighting Colorado forest fires or Oprah-couch jumpers divorcing in Hollywood.
We only heard the sounds of nature — the birds chirping in the forest, the cows mooing in the field, the bullfrogs mooing in the pond.
We didn’t turn on the phone until we crossed the bridge back to home soil, and we didn’t connect to the Internet until we got home.
A week later, we both agreed we should do “incommunicado” more often. The Orthodox have it right. Take at least one day a week to liberate yourself from the noise and the stress and the busy-ness of life, and just concentrate on what’s in front of your eyes.