I just booked a room at a hotel where my husband and I used to spend Valentine’s Day so many moons ago. It’s a little place on the Eastern Shore of Maryland with views of the Chesapeake Bay. My dad recommended this particular spot as a possible wedding venue when we tied the knot nearly seven years ago.
It was runner-up to the little inn where we were actually married. I scheduled the trip for October, so we’ll see how pregnant I’m feeling by the time the date arrives and whether or not my doctors will permit the journey. It’ll take us roughly two hours to get there from our home. I double checked the cancellation rules to make certain we wouldn’t get stuck with a bill if our little excursion isn’t permitted. It looks like everything will be fine as long as I cancel 72 hours in advance of our scheduled stay.
This is one of those times where an offer in the mail lured me to take a trip I would not have otherwise considered. The hotel offered a voucher for $100 worth of services and I know I’ll be dying for a prenatal massage by that point in time.
We vacationed at a Hyatt for our honeymoon and racked up quite a few points in their rewards program during that stay. A few other shorter stays have enabled us to earn enough points to attain a free night at a four star hotel, so I jumped at the chance to spend one last weekend away with my husband before the little one arrives.
I hope the weather is cool and clear enough for us to roast marshmallows again. The last time we visited we spent hours outside enjoying our time together beside a large wood fire.