The big day is here. C + I rip up to Ciro Marina from Tronca, early morning Friday, with our private driver. We’re booked for a single night in a B+B, and it could all be a bit rushed, but we aren’t due at the wedding until 5pm, and it’s only an hour drive, so we should be safe enough.
Ciro Marina is, as the name implies, another coastal city, but it’s a bit more populated than Tronca was. The marina itself isn’t gigantic, but it’s a decent size, docking somewhere in the range of 20 to 50 nice looking boats.
After a light lunch, and plenty of time to kill, C and I settle down with the chessboard outside a little gelato shop and start messing around a bit (she’s hooked on the game). I’ve been doing a combination of playing seriously against her, as well as teaching her some opening concepts / traps (Fried Liver Attack!).
I notice the ice cream shop owner (Ice Cream Man) is watching our game fairly intently from the side, and I invite him to play a game against C. He’s super happy to jump in, and I play the role of the nervous coach, pretending not to watch too intently from the side or let my face give away any clues, while secretly hoping C destroys him.
He’s not particularly good, but it’s C’s first live over the board game against anyone who isn’t me, and she’s definitely super shy / nervous. She capitalizes on a few of his mistakes, but she makes a few bigger ones, a bit too big to survive, even at their relatively novice level, and Ice Cream Man takes the W. Tragic.
He asks to play me a follow up game, and I quickly wipe him off the board. Someone had to redeem C’s honor. We chat a bit with Ice Cream Man, while I sip a few beers and C munches on something sweet, and kill the extra hour or two we have before the wedding. We promise to come back for more games soon, and then roll back to the B+B to get dressed up.
I clean up pretty well when I have to, and I daresay K-dawg’s suit looks sharp on me, though the pants are a little tight round my gigantic hockey ass. C’s also fairly easy on the eyes in her summer dress and heels.
The Italian boys from Albania have just gotten in last night from Milan to a different neighboring town, and are a little hungover, but sans the bachelor, are more than happy to scoop us up and gift us a lift to the wedding venue. The kids are absolute beauties. We nip back to their hotel to pick up their plus-ones, and then rip to wedding venue in two cars.
And what a venue it is. The wedding itself is taking place several miles inland on some gorgeous farmland. Ancient Italian stone buildings meet with a beautiful expanse of crops (olive trees and grape vines are prominent) spread out over low lying hills that seem to roll forever into the distance.
Small meet and greet, where I get to catch up with some of the lads, but priority number one is the ceremony, which kicks off almost right away. Some music, some churchy songs, and a long winded speech by the minister (it seemed beautiful, but of course, it was in Italian, so I was mostly guessing what was being said based on the context). It’s possible I tear up a bit. I resist the urge to pelt Danvinci and Wifey with the ceremonial rice as they walk down the aisle, and chuck it at some of the boys instead. Seems like a safer bet.
Just like that, the beautiful couple are officially locked in as life partners. I feel a little out of place, but it’s actually super cool to be invited to be a part of something this momentous, and I’m looking forward to the festivities with the boys + C.
Tons of people have heard about me and are interested in meeting me (degenerate, Asian, Canadian who just got invited last minute), and we start to put down some prosecco as we make our rounds.
The boys and their plus ones have great energy, and we also meet this South American woman around our age, Isabella, who speaks perfect English and is definitely looking to get rowdy.
More prosecco and mingling give way to the first dinner service. I mean, it could have easily been the only dinner service, one of the most ridiculously large buffets I’ve ever been a part of. Steak, burgers, pasta, seafood, cheese, salads, and a bunch of shit I can’t identify. There’s way too much food.
Collectively as a group we stuff our faces, and we don’t even make a dent in the offerings available. I assumed this WAS dinner, but after an hour or so of this (which includes a bunch of red and white wine), we’re ushered off to another section, a stone courtyard, where the official dinner tables are set and waiting for us. Apparently now, we chase down the food and wine, with more food, and more wine.
We’re sat at a table with Isabella and her BF, plus The Sheik from the original crew (sans a plus one) and a few others. Three course meal follows, interrupted between every course by dancing, games, and general festivities. Conga line, groomsman throwdown, giant dance circles, you name it, it’s a hell of a time.
Slight dampener in that C isn’t feeling well around 11 or midnight. She seems pretty intent on walking back to the BnB on her own, which is not something I’m going to allow, for safety reasons… the walk is at least 45 mins and it’s well after sunset. I manage to recruit one of the boys to ferry us back for a quick 10 minute ride, drop off C with a kiss, and then roll back to continue sending with the lads for the one proper night we’ll have together.
Everyone’s fucking trashed and exuberant, it’s glorious. More dancing. Isabella is getting a little bit handsy, trying to pull me onto the dance floor with her… maybe a bit overly so. I end up shutting it down quickly but politely, no hard feelings there at all. Probably not badly intentioned, but was a bit weird considering we both rolled in with plus ones.
Party has moved poolside where dessert is served, and I make sure to stash some to bring back to C who has a crazy sweet tooth. A final ceremony where the newly married couple stands with a bunch of towering sparklers shooting fire into the night sky behind them, followed up by more drinks and dancing late into the night, but before you know it, it’s over, and we’re on on our way back to the BnB.
Part ways with the lads, with a quick discussion about some brunch plans the next day, and I tuck C in (she scarfs down the dessert I’ve brought back for her) before we drift off to sleep.
Beautiful ceremony, and I’m truly honored to have been a part of it all. Way more fun with C in tow, would have been a disaster being stranded by myself out there. Most of the lads are up in Milan for work; I’ll have to make sure that I pop by and visit at some point in the future. They’re also definitely invited to my future wedding; the Italians really know how to do it right, and these lads are awesome.
Brando's Rambles 
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