Surprise Trips & Spontaneity

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When we first got married, I quickly realised we’re total opposites when it comes to spontaneity. Growing up, last-minute trips to surprise family in London or Bournemouth were just… Tuesday. So the idea of dropping everything and going somewhere on a whim wasn’t new to me at all.

My husband, on the other hand, needed a plan. Logistics, food, toiletries, a change of clothes, the full risk assessment. And to be fair, it wasn’t really his fault: he wasn’t driving at the time, and he didn’t have family scattered around the UK to practise this particular skill on. Spontaneity is like a muscle, and his simply hadn’t been worked out yet.

So in the early days, whenever I wanted a random last minute trip, the detailed discussion beforehand exhausted me so much I’d almost lose the will to go anywhere at all. I don’t blame him, he’s brilliant at planning, and honestly it took me some getting used to as well. We’ve found our balance now. And I’ll admit, I wasn’t a pure spontaneous chaos agent either. I loved researching new places too. It was really day trips, repeat destinations, and visiting family where I was happy to just go.

Before kids, we were still very much figuring each other out. Because let’s be honest, you don’t really know someone until you live with them. We had our nikaah and didn’t actually move in together until a few months later, so there was a lot of “getting to know you” still happening.

The Big One: Geneva & Barcelona (2019)

In 2019, I decided it was time for a proper test. I wanted to surprise my husband with a getaway and see how he’d cope with zero warning. So I got to work, quizzing colleagues, consulting family, doing my research, and eventually booked a genius little 2 in 1 trip: Geneva, then Barcelona.

Step one: get him to book annual leave without telling him where we were going. He struggled with this more than expected, understandably wanting to know what to pack. I fed him vague hints and “just bring versatile layers” energy instead of actual answers.

Now, picture this: we’re flying EasyJet, hand luggage only, back when the 100ml liquid rule was strictly enforced. My husband, completely unaware he was about to become a smuggling suspect, had packed oats, oat milk or coconut milk, a full sized deodorant, and various other toiletries well over the limit. So on the morning of the trip, I had the very normal, not at all suspicious task of secretly editing his luggage, swapping things out or just quietly vetoing them.

I told him we were getting the train. Which, technically, wasn’t a lie.

We took the train to Birmingham New Street, then on to Birmingham International. At this point he was fully convinced we were going to Wales, mostly because I’d been dropping unsubtle hints and there happened to be a train to Aberystwyth leaving in 40 minutes. Perfect cover story.

I’d always told him my favourite hot chocolate was from Caffè Nero, and happy coincidence, there’s one at Birmingham International, a short monorail ride from the station. So we went, I got my hot chocolate (basically a covert ops fuel stop), and then instead of heading back to the monorail, I casually started walking towards security.

Naturally, he was confused. I was filming him at this point, capturing his growing bewilderment in real time, right up until I finally cracked and said: “We’re not going to Wales, we’re going abroad.”

Cue shock. Cue confusion. Cue the only question that actually mattered to him in that moment: “DO YOU HAVE MY PASSPORT???” (Obviously, yes. What kind of amateur do you take me for.)

We went through security, and because I was clearly enjoying myself far too much by this point, I kept the destination a secret even at the gate. He kept sneaking glances at the departures board, waiting for our flight to load. Eventually “Geneva” appeared, and the mystery was solved, except he still had no idea Barcelona was coming too.

We had two lovely days in Geneva, followed by two or three days in Barcelona. On day two there, I dropped the bomb that we were going somewhere else the next day. He asked where. I said nothing. He asked if it was even in the same country. I said nothing. It wasn’t until we were actually at the airport that I finally told him. Watching the realisation land on his face, that this whole thing had been a surprise within a surprise, was honestly one of my proudest moments as a wife.

He’s since admitted he genuinely loved being surprised. A rare, official husband endorsement.

Amsterdam: The Trip That Almost Was

Since kids came along, surprise trips have needed a bit more forward planning. Allergies, routines, and small humans don’t really do “spontaneous” well. But I still like to sneak one in when I can.

Earlier this year, I booked a surprise trip for my husband and our eldest (6) to Amsterdam. His mum and brother were already heading out there, and since my husband and his siblings were born in the Netherlands, I thought it’d be a lovely father son bonding moment, plus a chance to see family. My son’s older now, more resilient with travel, and can actually stay awake past 8pm, so the timing felt right.

Naturally, it started snowing. Not “a light dusting” snowing, proper “the entire country grinds to a halt” snowing. My husband was literally in the taxi to the airport when the flight got cancelled. His mum, blissfully unaware, had already sailed through security by the time he found out he wasn’t going anywhere. So instead of Amsterdam, he got a very short, very anticlimactic round trip to the airport and back.

As Muslims, we believe everything happens for a reason, and Allah knows best. So while it was inconvenient, and mildly infuriating, dealing with cancellations and refunds, who knows what we were actually spared. Maybe they’d have been stranded. Maybe worse. We’ll never know, and honestly, I’ll take “annoying story” over the alternative any day.

Has He Ever Surprised Me?

You’re probably wondering if my husband has ever pulled off a surprise of his own. Yes, though by his own admission, nowhere near my level (his words, not mine, but I won’t argue).

He’s currently claiming he’s going to surprise me with a trip to Oman for our 10th anniversary. I’m not convinced this is happening. But then again, I suppose it can’t be a surprise if I already know about it. So, kidding, obviously. Definitely not planning around this at all. 👀

So Which Are You?

Are you Team Meticulous Planner, Team Full Spontaneity, or, like me, a bit of an in betweener? I’d love to know.