It started with a glitch in the booking system—or maybe a wink from the universe.
Emily Ford and Daniel Leroux weren’t on a honeymoon. They weren’t even dating. But by the third day of their European backpacking trip, they were toasting each other with complimentary sparkling wine in a king suite with a balcony overlooking the rooftops of Tbilisi.
“Listen,” Emily laughs, “I didn’t pack a white dress, but the perks? We weren’t going to say no.”
Culture, Nature… and One Couch
The pair met at university in Toronto. Emily, 28, is a landscape photographer who works freelance and lives for waterfalls, forests, and things that can’t be plugged in. Daniel, 29, is a museum docent-turned-content strategist, whose dream vacation includes “ruins, regional wine, and at least three guided audio tours.”
So naturally, they decided to travel together.
“She needed someone to book train tickets. I needed someone to remind me to eat lunch,” Daniel says. “It’s symbiosis.”
Their plan? Three weeks in Georgia and Armenia, with stops in Tbilisi, Yerevan, and a few hikes in the Caucasus mountains. They booked modest accommodations—shared bathrooms, twin beds, hostel breakfasts. But when they arrived at their first hotel in Tbilisi, the clerk was beaming.
“You are… Mr. and Mrs. Leroux?” she asked, clearly delighted.
“We just kind of blinked,” Emily recalls. “Then she said: ‘You’ve been upgraded to our honeymoon suite!’”
Daniel adds: “There was a heart-shaped towel swan situation. Rose petals. A note that said, ‘Happy New Beginnings.’ And the biggest balcony I’ve ever seen.”
The Couch Pact
Technically, there was only one bed. But the suite had a deep leather couch.
“We made a pact,” says Emily. “I got the bed the first night, Daniel took it the second. By the third, I was on the balcony in a blanket watching the sunrise and he was asleep in an armchair with a guidebook on his face.”
They might’ve said something. They didn’t.
“We were going to tell them,” Daniel insists, “but then the bellhop brought up a bottle of sparkling wine ‘with compliments for the bride and groom.’ And we were like—yeah, okay. We’re married now.”
Perks, Please
Things escalated quickly. At dinner, the server asked if it was their honeymoon. They said yes. Dessert arrived unbidden. A live trio played something vaguely romantic.
At another hotel, they were upgraded again. “This one had a freestanding tub,” Emily says. “We took turns soaking and reading. Separately.”
Soon, they were leaning into the narrative. Coordinating outfits. Laughing at strangers who said, “You two are so cute together.”
“We became connoisseurs of how far we could stretch the story without lying,” Daniel explains. “It was like method acting meets travel hacking.”
Not Dating. Just… Winning
Emily and Daniel aren’t the only members of the Accidental Honeymooners Club—a growing unofficial fraternity of platonic travelers who reap the rewards of a system that assumes coupledom.
“I’ve had this happen three times,” says Alix Branson, a solo traveler from Australia. “Once with a childhood friend. Once with my cousin. Once completely alone, because the hotel assumed my partner was ‘out for a stroll.’ I didn’t correct them. I had a bathrobe and fruit basket to deal with.”
So… What Now?
After three weeks of shared jokes, wine, and very separate sleeping arrangements, Emily and Daniel say their friendship is stronger than ever. Any romantic sparks?
“Absolutely not,” Emily deadpans.
“I think she’d rather marry a tree,” Daniel quips.
Still, they’re planning their next trip: possibly Portugal or Albania. And yes, they’ll be checking “honeymoon suite if available.”
“It’s not about pretending to be something we’re not,” says Emily. “It’s about letting people’s assumptions work in our favor. Plus, the bathrobes are nicer.”
