Our Elegant Engagement
This is Curtis again and since the stress and planning, or lack thereof, of this event fell to me, I'm going to tell this story. However, I'll let Chantal add commentary later, if she wants. I am nothing if not a fair-minded man.
After getting her parents' blessing in August, I had to figure out a way to "pop the question." Now this kind of stuff can be tricky with Chantal. Chantal likes surprises, but let's face it, she also likes well planned out events. So I decided that I couldn't over plan the event myself, because it could easily get pushed aside for another plan. So I decided to be subtle, clearly playing to my strengths.
In September, Chantal participated in a triathlon in Santa Cruz and I made sure to comment on how great the Bay Area was for weekend getaways, though they didn't have to involve any exercise. You could drive just a couple of hours, spend a weekend somewhere else, and feel like you really got away. On the drive home we both agreed that we should try to do more of these weekend getaways in the future. My thought at this point in time was to create as many opportunities as possible to pop the question so that any particular weekend wouldn't seem suspicious.
One of Chantal's co-workers had spent a weekend in Point Reyes recently and Chantal definitely had the bug to go there. So I took it upon myself to plan a weekend in Point Reyes. Unfortunately, I had a couple of time constraints. The first was that Chantal's parents were coming out in November and I wanted to be engaged before then. Second, our open weekends were dwindling fast before the holidays. It really only left us with one or two options. I zeroed in on one weekend in October (the 22nd and 23rd) and went to finding a bed and breakfast in Point Reyes.
That proved to be easier said than done. Basically, I couldn't find a place that was both available and affordable for that weekend. I then broadened my search to other beach towns, eventually settling on Half Moon Bay. I found a place online, booked a room and the stage was set. Mind you at this time I wasn't 100% committed to ask that weekend, I just needed to start creating opportunities to do so.
Another complicating factor was that Chantal had to go to some work event Saturday morning. This meant that we couldn't leave Friday night and we were only looking at one night away from home. It also meant that we couldn't get on the road until almost 2 PM. I definitely wanted to propose during the day, if not at sunset, so on that fateful day, I became a manic clock-watcher.
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My beautiful sunset |
Given my academic and professional experience as a geographer, I decided that the best route to take was Highway 92 and avoid going through San Francisco to get to Highway 1. What a disaster. Something about a big pumpkin festival. After crossing Interstate 280, Highway 92 became a one lane parking lot as far as the eye could see. Here I am stuck in a car on a one-lane road racing the sun with an engagement ring in my pocket, but no way to turn around because the road had a concrete divider. I'm definitely getting a bit salty at this point in time, with just the smallest beads of sweat forming on my upper lip.
Finally, after an hour of stop and go, we reached a point where we could turn around. I estimated that we hadn't even reached the mid-way point. I had to make a decision to keep going ahead and risk missing the setting sun, or turn around and probably triple our travel distance. We turned around, and it took 11 minutes to cover the same distance it took us to cover in 60 minutes. I raced up Interstate 280 to cut over to Highway 1, in an awkwardly quiet car with me trying to conceal my stress and Chantal confused as to what the big fuss was.
Did I mention that it was a sunny, almost hot day in Oakland? Of course by the time we hit the coast, the sun became only a distant memory. The fog was thick that day, my friends. Almost too thick. What fates were conspiring against my coastal proposal in the amber rays of a setting sun? OK, that's a bit dramatic, but these thoughts were running through my mind.
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Harbor House Bed and Breakfast |
In less than an hour we had made it to Half Moon Bay. (Technically, it was Princeton-by-the-Sea, but no one's heard of that city, so I will exercise my geographic license and continue to assert that we were engaged in Half Moon Bay. It sounds more romantic, anyway.) I was relieved to pull in around 5 PM, estimating that I had about an hour of sunlight.
While pulling up to our bed and breakfast, down a street that can only be called "light industrial" with several warehouses, we passed a wedding. Chantal mentioned that she thought it would be fun to peak in and take a look. That was when I realized that I had the green light to make it happen that day.
When we finally checked in to the Harbor House Bed and Breakfast, I used that wedding as an excuse to quickly unload our things and go for a walk. We poked our heads into the reception, which was pretty small and at a building also owned by the Harbor House, and then I suggested a walk along the beach. What I was looking for was some piece of land sticking out into the ocean. I thought that we could walk out on it and I could romantically drop to one knee...
So along our walk I noticed one such place, but it was crowded with people. Hmm. I picked another rocky outcrop in the distance and suggested that we walk over to that. All this time, mind you, I have the ring in my right pants pocket. Chantal doesn't like to hold my right hand, so I figured that this would prevent her from accidentally bumping into it.
While we're walking along the beach, we came to some benches and Chantal suggested that we sit down. She kind of oriented herself so that her head was on my chest. Hmm. That wasn't good. I was fairly certain that my heart was pounding at a level audible to the passengers of any passing ship, so you can imagine my worry with Chantal's ear inches away from it. She noticed. She commented, "Your heart is racing," or something to that effect. I'm not totally sure how I answered, but I'm sure it was sly and convincing. Something along the lines of, "Well, it's been, uh, like, a long walk and I haven't been to the gym in a while." She didn't pursue the topic further. Damn, I'm so cool under pressure.
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Notice anything different? |
After a few minutes of me saying nice things to Chantal, I mustered the courage and said, "You know, there's a reason my heart is beating so fast. You can start hyperventilating, now." At this point Chantal underwent a somewhat subtle physical change that lasted about five hours. Her eyes bugged out of her head ever so slightly and I'm fairly certain she stopped blinking. I then asked her to stand up and we hugged each other. I think she was saying, "Oh my god," over and over again. Right when I was about to get down on own knee, two different sets of walkers passed and I told her that I'd have to wait. It was sort of comical, standing there holding each other without speaking with unaware families passed by. Eventually, the people passed and I got down on the prerequisite one knee and asked her if she would marry me. I distinctly remember her response: "Oh my god, yes!"
After sitting on the bench for a while, in, well, shock, we decided to head back to the Harbor House. This is where I really demonstrated how classy I am. Not having planned this out very well, there was not a fancy bottle of champagne awaiting us. So we crossed Highway 1 and went into a local liquor store and bought the most expensive champagne they had. I think it was close to $20. We incorrectly assumed that our bed and breakfast would have wine glasses, so we romantically drink our liquor store adult beverage from coffer cups. I know how to treat a lady. It didn't seem to matter, though. She seemed pretty happer with her new hardware (and quite photogenic).
(Note: These pictures of Chantal are my favorite. I've never seen pictures of her looking so unabashedly happy. It was like she couldn't wipe that eye-to-eye smile off of her face.)
The first thing we decided upon getting back to our room, was that we wouldn't tell anyone else that we were engaged until the next day. That way we could spend a night with just the two of us, before the inevitable whirlwind of wedding phones calls began.
Also, we decided to have dinner at a fancy restaurant in Half Moon Bay that Chantal's friend, Rebecca, had suggested, but we didn't want to drive. We tried calling a taxi, but didn't have much luck. So we decided to walk down to a nearby bar, assuming they would have taxis coming and going. Right.
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Maverick's Roadhouse Cafe | |
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Mezza Luna Restaurant | |
While waiting in the Maverick's Roadhouse Cafe, a fine establishment, we were approached at the bar by a man speaking broken English and wearing a baseball cap with an embroidered rooster. Turns out that Jose was from Mexico and wanted to practice his English. Apparently, he thought we looked like people who might speak Spanish. (No such luck. Chantal took French and I took German). Personally, I think he was just hitting on Chantal. Happens everywhere we go. At some point we told Jose that we had just become engaged. That's right moms. The first person to know was a Mexican migrant farmworker named Jose.
Eventually we gave up on the taxi idea and wandered across the street to an Italian restaurant called Mezza Luna. We had a great dinner and a couple of bottles of wine. After dinner, we walked home happy, slightly (significantly) buzzed and engaged.
The next morning we starting making the requisite phone calls, with Chantal's sister Meghan refusing to believe us ("you're kidding!", she repeated), and took a great walk along the cliffs adjacent to the Ritz Carlton. When the fog finally cleared, we were able to enjoy our $15 dollar beers with a view of the 18th green and the Pacific Ocean. It might not have been elegant, but what a great weekend.
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Maybe it was three bottles? | |
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$30 for 2 beers, but worth the view. | |
