Italian Wedding

Last weekend I went to Italy to attend a friend’s wedding, and I am not talking about any friend’s wedding here but a Best Friend’s Wedding. In fact, I’ve met the bride when we were fourteen, we were starting high school (which is grade I’m-getting-pimples-and-I-hate-the-world in the Kingdom) with our hot pink clothes and our loud giggles (imagine how loud an ITALIAN fourteen year old girl can be); now we are women with careera and adult lives, even though we kept the loudness and the giggles.

I won’t dwell any longer on the mushy bits, it would be counterproductive for my attempt to retain my readership. On the contrary, I will share some bits and bobs of my friend’s special day that stirred mushy feelings in my expat’s heart. For example:

  • A wide selection of fine Italian antipasti, including my beloved Parma ham and gnocco fritto, a pairing that outclasses any other edible, including cake and Nutella.
  • A group of friends from high school that I haven’t seen in months, and finding out that they started PhDs, moved house, got tattoos and loads of other things that Facebook never told you.
  • A breath-taking view from the top of the hills of Bergamo, to remind you that Italy is much more than the holy trinity Rome-Venice-Florence. Travel suggestion: Bergamo! You heard it here first.
  • A glorious end of September day, sunny and warm enough for you to wear a backless silk dress and golden sandals. On a side note, we were a bunch of hot bridesmaids!
  • Lastly, seeing one of your Best Friends with a dreamy white dress becoming a Mrs, which is something that Iwould never have missed, even if I’d been an Italian-On-Mars!

Congratulations again, Virgi & Gio!


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