Hey, you found it. This page is a secret, just for couples on my list. Welcome to the club.
If the thought of a 150 person wedding makes you tired, and the thought of saying your vows on a cliff, a glacier, or a beach makes your chest feel tight in a good way, congratulations. You are an eloper. This guide is the first 20 percent of planning that removes 80 percent of the overwhelm.
Do not start with a destination. Start with a feeling.
Cozy and moody? Think Iceland, Ireland, Scotland.
Warm and barefoot? Hawaii, Barbados, Greece.
Epic and wild? Alaska, the Dolomites, the redwoods.
When you know the feeling, the shortlist writes itself.
You do not have to get legally married where you have your ceremony. Most of my couples sign the paperwork at their local courthouse, then have their real ceremony anywhere on earth with zero foreign bureaucracy. Same vows, same tears, no document chasing in a second language. This one tip saves more elopements than any other, and nobody at your ceremony will ever know which day the government counts.
Every destination has a golden window. Iceland has midnight sun in June and auroras from September. Alaska glows June through September. Hawaii works year round, with whales in winter. The Dolomites turn gold in October. Book your photographer first, then set the date together around the light and the season, not the other way around.
A destination elopement usually runs a fraction of the average American wedding. Your big three: travel, your photographer, and the experiences you build into the day, like helicopters, boats, or a private chef. Skip the venue, the catering for 150, and the centerpieces nobody remembers. Put the money into the memory and the proof of it.
The best elopement days have a shape. A sunrise start before the world wakes up. A ceremony somewhere that means something. An adventure in the middle. Golden hour at the end. Build in a nap. Build in snacks. Trust me on both.
Here is the beautiful secret of eloping: you do not need a year. Most of my couples plan the whole thing in 3 to 6 months, and honestly, that is part of the magic.
Month 1: pick your feeling, shortlist 2 or 3 destinations, and book your photographer. Peak-season dates go first, so this is the one step that rewards moving fast. Lock the destination and date around the light and the season, then grab flights and lodging.
Month 2: handle the legal plan, home courthouse or destination paperwork. Apply for permits, book the helicopter or boat if you want one, and order the outfit with time for alterations.
Month 3: build the day timeline with your photographer, book hair and makeup if you want it, and confirm every vendor.
The last few weeks: marriage license logistics, print your vows, break in your boots. Yes, break in the boots. I have seen the blisters.
The last week: check the weather obsessively like the rest of us, pack, and remember the rings.
Planning further out? Great, you get first pick of dates. Planning closer in? Talk to me anyway. Some of my favorite days ever came together in six weeks.
Real talk, because vague budgets help nobody. Most destination elopements land somewhere in these buckets:
Travel: flights, lodging, rental car. Varies wildly by destination, and shoulder seasons cut it hard.
Photography: usually the biggest wedding line item, because it is the only thing that lasts longer than the day.
Experiences: the helicopter, the boat, the private chef, the day-after session. This is where elopement money goes further than wedding money ever could.
The legal bits: marriage licenses run about $65 in Hawaii, roughly $80 in Iceland, around $100 in Barbados. Permits for ceremonies run $100 to $200 in most US parks. Pocket change next to a venue deposit.
Compare all of that to the average American wedding and you will understand why my couples come home from a week in Iceland having spent less than one Saturday in a banquet hall.
The single most common planning miss. The short version by destination:
Hawaii: public beach ceremonies need a state Right of Entry permit plus a one day insurance policy. Sounds scary, costs less than dinner for four.
The Redwoods: every ceremony needs a permit, $100 to $200 depending on the park, applied for at least 4 weeks out.
Alaska and most national parks: special use permits, cheap but time-sensitive.
Iceland, Ireland, Scotland: generally no ceremony permits on public land, though iconic managed sites want a heads up.
Resorts anywhere: not a permit, a vendor fee, and there are completely legit ways around it. Ask me about the guest method.
When you book me, the permit plan is my job to run with you. You will never find out about a permit rule from a ranger on your wedding day.
Eloping does not have to mean eloping alone. Options my couples love: bring only your absolute closest few, they hike with us and cry at the good part. Or elope just the two of you and throw a backyard party when you get home, photos playing on the TV. Or video call the grandparents right after vows, which wrecks everyone in the best way. There is no rule book. That is the entire point.
The dress or suit, obviously, packed in a carry on, never checked. Broken-in boots that can handle trail and look good in photos. Layers for mountain destinations, because summit weather lies. Vow books. The rings, assigned to one specific responsible human. The marriage license if you are doing legal on location. Snacks and water for the adventure. A statement coat for cold destinations. And leave room in the bag for the champagne you will buy there.
The Mountain Sunrise: up in the dark, first light ceremony above the clouds, champagne at a viewpoint, midday nap, golden hour portraits, dinner somewhere warm. The formula behind half my favorite days ever.
The Beach Day: sunrise vows on empty sand, breakfast celebration, boat or snorkel adventure midday, golden hour in the water, barefoot dinner. Built for Hawaii, Barbados, and Greece.
The Winter Chase: late morning start because winter light sleeps in, afternoon ceremony in the blue hour glow, warm dinner, then out into the dark hunting the aurora in your wedding clothes. Iceland and Alaska specialty. Cold toes, unreal photos.
Have you shot in this location or climate before? Do you help with permits and timeline planning? Are you comfortable being our witness, our hype crew, and occasionally our officiant? What happens if the weather turns? If they flinch at any of these, keep looking.
I’m Brittney. I have been photographing elopements since 2006, from canyon sunrises to Alaska glaciers, and I am ordained, so I can lead your ceremony and photograph it. If this guide made your heart race a little, send me three sentences about the two of you and the place you cannot stop thinking about. That conversation is free and it is my favorite part of the job.
Want to keep dreaming first? Browse every place I shoot on my destination elopement locations page.