Note to self: you’re married.

I realised last night that I forgot to mention the most important lesson of all. It’s this: don’t tell people you are on your own, you silly girl. In my normal life I tend to attract wildly inappropriate men. This includes taxi drivers, 25-year-olds, the unhappily partnered and the homeless. (Clearly, some of these are more salubrious than others.) I found on holidays that this wasn’t any different. Apart from my encounter with the overly-eager welcome dude, I also had numerous inquiries from taxi drivers and resort staff as to my status. Initially these went something like this:

Wildly inappropriate man: Do you have a husband?

Stupidly accurate over-sharing me: Oh no, I’m here on my own.

Eventually, the penny dropped. Telling people that I am alone is a BAD IDEA. For some reason, men seem to take this as a signal that you are therefore eager to be acquired in some manner. I had one cabbie ask if I’ve move to Vanuatu as the country “needed people like me” and because he was “single too”. Oh dear. I think I still have his business card floating around somewhere.

The other issue to do with this is that people tend to vastly underestimate my age / intellect / earning capacity / general worth as a person. This is not ideal when one is trying to appear as a Fiercely Independent Slash Totally Competent Female Traveller Who Shall Be Taken Very Seriously Indeed. Rah! Case in point: in Vanuatu I was asked numerous times whether I was there “with my parents”. Ok then, if you say so! Hi Mum and Dad! Thanks for the free trip. Sweet.

I think for the purposes of my next trip I need to invent an imaginary husband. One who is lurking conveniently around the nearest corner, wherever I may be. I will be perpetually on the cusp of meeting this fine and phantasmagorical fellow. How tremendously exciting!

In my mind, I’ll use my dear friend Daniel as the model for this phantom spouse. That way, I can answer questions about him readily. For instance:

Hypothetical wildly inappropriate man: What colour eyes does your husband have?

Happily married me: Blue.

Hypothetical wildly inappropriate man: What kind of music does your husband like?

Happily married me: Muse is one of his favourite bands.

Hypothetical wildly inappropriate man: Which flavour of Twisties does he prefer, chicken or cheese?

Happily married me: Neither. Daniel enjoys Twisties Zig Zags best of all. As do I. It’s a match made in heaven really. *Contented sigh*

All I need to do now is try to remember the word for ‘husband’ in French. Wish me luck kids x