Women on the verge* | Madrid, Spain

After being on the verge of missing it on several fronts, through a series of mishaps and very close calls – brought on by my and my friend Krissy’s disastrous organizational skills and total lack of ability to plan ahead, in the end we miraculously made it to Madrid and to our lovely friend Guadalupe’s wedding (Congratulations, Lupita!).

The wedding was beautiful – from the stunningly radiant bride and charming groom to the tiniest details. I especially enjoyed the service in the church, which had every Spanish-speaking guest cracking up while I was tearing up and, later, the Argentinean guests’ enthusiastic explosion on the dance floor.

My only regret was missing what, as far as I can predict, was probably my once-in-a-lifetime chance to wear a fascinator, something that eating copious amounts of deliciously refreshing gazpacho every day could compensate for only in part.

Believe it or not, in the three short days we spent in Madrid, we not only attended the wedding (and consumed many gazpachos), but also managed to do, see and visit many other fun things, which was bad for my feet but very good for taking pictures of the ground beneath them (links will be activated as posts go up):

• we strolled around the charming Las Letras neighborhood, with its literature-covered streets;

•  we popped into the contemporary CaixaForum museum;

•  we came upon the massive protests near Puerta del Sol and the precise point from which all of Spain’s main roads radiate and from which all road distances within the country are measured;

• but throughout, I kept looking down at Madrid’s street surfaces, which – even when serving the most mundane of purposes, were surprisingly ornate.

* In the wedding spirit of “something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue,the title of this post is, obviously, borrowed from Almodóvar’s Women on the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown. Although in this case Im rather referring to being on the verge of other things, namely – in the case of my friend Guadalupe, married life. As fate would have it, another very dear friend of mine was on the very same verge on the very same day, but across the ocean, in New York. I would have loved nothing more than to be able to make it to both weddings, but unfortunately the time difference of six hours, which proved too little, and other annoyingly practical constraints with time, money and distance made that impossible. A few days later, however, my wonderful friend Ji Sun shared this picture from the wedding in New York:

Not quite what I had in mind when I said I would be there in spirit, but quite touching nonetheless.


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