Everyone descended upon Villacarrillo the night before, to have tapas at 10 p.m. and then surprise the bride with a 1 a.m. serenade on the street, below her window. Very romantic!
It was at this point that I discovered how crazy Spanish people are; I already knew this, but I soon discovered how much more so. After the serenade, everyone (including the bride and groom) wandered over to a relative's car garage to party some more. At 2 a.m. Despite many having to get up in the morning. Despite the wedding being that afternoon. Despite some having to read at the mass. We sang our hearts out on the street all night and early morning, causing hoarse throats and worry about how some were going to do their church speeches (we joked that they could record it now and do a "Milli Vanilli" at the mass).
I drowsily woke up at 3 p.m. the day of the wedding, ate lunch with my friend's family, and then took a siesta (don't judge, it's practically a necessity to handle the partying in this country). I then got dolled up for the mass, which I ended up missing. I didn't realize that my friends, and many guests, don't attend the mass. Rather, they show up for the rice throwing, then head to the reception hall for the REAL party.
|Photos and the "rice launch"|
|My Nancy Wilson moment|