We ran out of conversation on day four. It had been expected – it felt like my new-ish boyfriend and I spent much of our nine months together on stolen time, catching flashes of our aligned minds before life got in the way and we had to press pause on an unexplored topic that we’d never uncover again. I’d braced myself to expect that six full days in each other’s company would obliterate that aspect of our formative relationship – along with many others.
It happened over lunch at Milonges, the Greek-themed a la carte restaurant in the all-inclusive resort of Ixian Grand & All Suites on the northern tip of Rhodes, where we’d booked ourselves a summer trip for our first taste of quality time together. With the sun beating down on us, we took our usual seats (outside, front row, second table from the entrance), waited for the water to be poured, then for the order to be taken.
Then we were on our own. I expected that running out of conversation would involve awkward silence and darting eyes searching for something, anything, to talk about. But I quickly found out that when you’re travelling, it looks like a never-ending cycle of generic holiday questions. “How’s your book?” “How’s the sunburn?” “Have you heard from your mum?” Ad infinitum. Our honeymoon period had dissipated, like the sole wisp of cloud in the Grecian blue sky. I didn’t mind one bit.
In fact, losing our honeymoon magic was the exciting part.
Here’s my logic: a holiday at the start of a relationship is about indulging in the company of someone shiny and new, someone you just can’t get enough of. A few months in, it’s a rite of passage – one of the tick boxes to make sure you’ve experienced this potential partner in different scenarios. But after nearly a year together, and especially as we’re in our middle-age, cynical era, I needed to watch our relationship morph into something more substantial.
Let’s get to the bit where we’re cutting toenails together, I thought, and I’ll trust things much more.
We met online back in September, the day before he, a teacher, started a new school year. On the dating scene, I’d dealt with a run of complicated false-starts where I couldn’t work out if it wasn’t right or I was being too picky, so I loved that our relationship began with refreshing simplicity. I liked his style, he liked my energy, we decided to see where it went.
Constrained by short windows of time off, we knew we’d have to wait until summer to take our first holiday. So when he finally floated the idea of a trip away, my heart burst with joy, but my gut seized up. I wondered how we’d deal with running out of conversation, yes. But also: what if I needed my own space? Would I have to pretend I’m easygoing and game for anything? Would it ruin the magic if I put make-up on in front of him? What about needing my privacy in the bathroom? How would I feel if he was outside the door where he could hear me?
After much overthinking, I tried to set us up for success with careful planning. We picked somewhere with guaranteed sun and glorious temperatures. Somewhere with a beach to lounge on (my preference), and watersports to stay active (his preference). We wanted an all-inclusive to circumvent any “you pay for that, I’ll pay for this” type discussions. We agreed on taking a day trip to somewhere else during the holiday to break things up.
The Ixian Grand was ideal for all the above and then some. It was grand indeed, with 348 rooms and many socialising spots – from the beach loungers fronting the gin-clear Aegean Sea to the airy lobby bar with cocktails on tap – so it felt like we could join in on the liveliness if we wanted. But as a five-star, adults-only hotel, it was more upscale and serene than most resorts. We opted for a studio suite with a private pool, which gave us the option of hiding away for the whole trip if we wanted to stay in our own little bubble.
Stepping into the sun-drenched resort, bags whisked away, juice made from deliciously ripe pineapple presented, my man by my side, I knew it was going to be blissful. We quickly settled into a holiday routine that went: wake, laze, breakfast, private pool, lunch, ice-cream, private pool, cocktail, beach loungers, cocktail, refresh, dinner, sleep. Spending so much time together, making micro-decisions about our day, brought into focus how in sync we were.
Shock, horror, I also used the bathroom. There was no avoiding that situation. Mercifully, the toilet in our suite was a separate room – rather than a slide-door en suite that seems to be acceptable in hotels these days (won’t someone think of first-time couples on holiday?). But I still had to employ tactics. As we were about to leave for breakfast on the second day, I decided to hang back and suggested I meet him at Alazonia in a couple of minutes. It took him a beat to clock why. “Going for a poop?” he asked, and we burst out laughing like schoolkids. And that was that.
We were getting along just fine, when later that day from nowhere, we found ourselves in an argument. Coming back from the beach, he accidentally put his clothes on top of a fruit platter that was left as a welcome gift. He did it again five minutes later. I pointed it out. It turns out even glorious surrounds can’t stop the occasional showdown of Right vs Wrong.
Unlike at home, there were no other places to storm off. No other people to diffuse the situation. No interruptions to cap the conversation. For the first time, we saw the argument through to its end, which meant we got to talk about it deeply. We talked about why we reacted like we did, what it triggered in each of us, and how to avoid getting into such a row next time. It was sort of ... magical?
The holiday was amazing for other reasons too, like when we indulged in a couple’s massage at the Aegeo Spa that left us in the same ethereal, floating state of mind for the rest of the afternoon. And the breathtaking orange-pink sunsets that made a cliche out of us as we dressed up in our holiday finest, dashed to the beachfront as the golden hour descended, and took selfies of each other with dozens of loved-up couples doing the same.
The day trip we planned pulled us out of the bosom of the resort and on to a catamaran, which sailed coolly around Rhodes, stopping off at Anthony Quinn Bay and Kalithea Bay, both glittering coves with clear waters and untouched rocky surrounds.
We were two of about 15 passengers on board. As delightful as it was to have each other’s company in the hotel, there was something equally invigorating about presenting ourselves as a couple to the outside world. We reminded each other to lotion up, and made sure the other had a drink in hand. I was possibly the only person to think it, but we were totally cute.
After the boat trip, we got lost in Rhodes’s maze-like old town, stopping off for local beers and gift-buying. We laughed at terrible magnets, haggled on each other’s behalf, and entertained unfeasible ideas for businesses. We were fully at ease. Somewhere along the holiday, every last one of my pre-travel concerns faded to nothing without me realising it.
[ If you’re already planning your next holiday, read this firstOpens in new window ]
I left the Ixian Grand feeling like we’d had too little time there. I wanted more of the pretty pebble beach, more of the strawberry margarita that made me feel daytime-woozy. But most of all, I wanted more of him. As we stepped off the plane and he suggested staying at my place that night – as in, voluntarily and not because we were sharing a room 4,000km from home – I practically melted with happiness.
They say that going on holiday for the first time will either make or break a relationship. I’m too long in the tooth to believe that things are that definable. But it did give me the strongest of assurances that this was a person I felt completely at ease with. And what precious memories I’ve gained finding that out.
Shilpa Ganatra was a guest of Ixian Grand & All Suites in Rhodes: theixiangrand.gr
