I have to admit I am a bit confused by the term babymooning. You see, in anticipation of Junior Pixels, Kitty and I went to Sydney last weekend for one last time. When we told people this, they would say: ‘oh, you’re babymooning‘. I’d look oddly, because excuse me if I seem dumb, but don’t you actually need a baby to go on a babymoon? Isn’t going baby-less on a babymoon like holidaying before your wedding?

I looked in the ‘B’ volume of my 1989 edition Encyclopedia Britannica and couldn’t find any such term, so I fired up the old Wikipedia (yet again):

A babymoon is a period of time that parents spend bonding with a recently-born baby.

More recently the term has come to be used to describe a vacation taken by a couple that is expecting a baby in order to allow the couple to enjoy a final trip together before the many sleepless nights that usually accompany a newborn baby. Babymoons usually take place at a resort that offers appropriate services like prenatal massage.

~ Wikipedia (empahasis added by me)

So it seems that what originally was deemed a period of parental bonding, has somehow become a cash-cow for the hospitality/tourism sector. This was confirmed as soon as we began our alleged babymoon.

We were on the plane, and we fly Jetstar (with the remaining Australian bogan population). There’s that awkward bit when you’re taking off you know, and you can’t use anything, not even a myPhone in ‘flight mode’, and being the Gen Y that I am, I got fidgety. Trying to find anything to do except watch the silly safety demonstration for the millionth time (actually, subtly, every plane is the same) I grabbed the JetStar Magazine, July Issue, and fingered it open, landing coincidentally on the page sixty/sixty-one spread.

JetStar Magazine

Ahhh! I couldn’t escape. The article was about how all these resorts were offering special babymoon packages which surely just means they raise the price 50-100% more than non-babymooners. You know, like they do for honeymooners.

Upon check in in Sydney the lovely lady on the check-in counter asked what our businessΒ  was in Sydney. I told her we were babymooning, and then she gave us a look I couldn’t quiet place. The look either meant “so where is the baby?”, or maybe just “Damn, I wish we had known, we could have charged them extra.”