Countdown to W-Day: Tue., May 3

This is the story of the epic (if we may say so ourselves) Ixapa wedding of Edouard and Camelia, seen through the eyes of the latter, with (promised) ulterior posts from the groom.


Chapter 4: Thought by experts to be near extinct, the local gringo population is suddenly revived

Tuesday morning I wake up and try to coax mom into a walk on the beach but i'm met with stern refusal. She was up watching re-runs of  Sleepless in Seattle and is tired!

Prospects for a walk are not looking good...

I walk a little bit and return in a hurry to have breakfast, with the firm conviction that I need to  meet with the photographer in the lobby at 10:00 AM sharp to talk about the various sessions, poses and overall timing. I wait until 10:30, telling myself "Mexico time" and then decide to check my email, only to find out that i skipped a whole 45 minutes of morning sunbathing (the best), in vain! The photographer was scheduled for Wednesday, tomorrow, at 10:00 AM. Tomorrow will be busy: guests arriving, photographer, Ed coming back from Saladita and, on top of it all, a hair appointment at noon to take care of my neglected roots. I sigh and meet mom in the pool for a (very) early round of drinks. 

Generally I try to stay away from alcohol before 5:00 PM, but the circumstances are special and i need to catch up with her on some delicate topics that I've postponed broaching until now. So I wait until she's properly hydrated ( with Coladas) and then bring up the possibility of taking a year sabbatical from adult life to travel with Ed through Latin America. Two Coronas (moi) and another Pina later (her), we strike a deal that basically makes a compromise between mom's desire to see me save for my old days and my desire to break the office shackle. All is good and we are done just in time for lunch. 

As usual, mom has a tiny bit of salad and three deserts, to my complete disgust (feigned) and jealousy (real). I pile my plate up high with veggies and add a smattering of guacamole for desert, as I still harbor hopes to look less like a chipmunk and more like a mermaid in my white gown.

Still white, but working on it...

Upstairs, we call grandma to give and receive the report: no narcotraficantes attempted to kidnap us, but, alas, one of my mom's dogs ate one of her parrots. It's a sad moment that reminds us both that at the end of these two weeks we need to face some unpleasant facts of life. But not right now. I check my email and see that Ed wrote to me twice: once at 1:45 to say that he heard that Meghan and Kelly are getting in today (woo-hoo) and am I sure that I still want to join him in Saladita for a surfing session and overnight stay; and another email at 2:11, to say "OK, I'm leaving now!"  I reply as quickly as my vacation-mushed brain can manage to command my fingers to tell him that I have way too many appointments on Wed. to be able to go to Saladita and that he shouldn't come. I hit Send at 2:12. I don't hear anything back. 

I join mom upstairs and, sure enough, Ed and Wes show up 40 minutes later, sweaty, dusty and hot like two habaneros. I break the news that i can't go, but Ed, high on endorphins from surfing, takes it remarkably well. He jumps in the shower fully dressed (but that's not saying much - when in Mexico he generally wears nothing but board shorts.) They hop back in the car and they're gone, in a cloud of dust, like some vision from a Spaghetti Western. 

It's time to return to the beach and work some more on the tan. Mom somehow already managed to burn her cleavage a deep dark burgundy, but she bravely wraps herself into a towel and joins me on the beach chairs. Five-ten minutes later I hear two familiar voices and spy Meghan and Kelly, the first two guests from the cohort. We spend the rest of the evening talking, lying on the beach, occasionally dipping into the ocean. 

Thought by gringologists to be on the verge of extinction, the  gringo population in Ixtapa was suddenly revitalized by an unexpected migration from the North And although they were all females, scientists have observed in the past that gringo males soon follow suit. The gringologist community waited with bated breath...

After dinner, we walk to town, where I buy two bottles of champagne, one for the bridesmaids and one for the best men. Then we walk back to the hotel and talk until the wee hours about everything an anything, from neural pathways to sartorial makeovers. I take my leave from them around 1:00 AM and return to my room. The joyride is about to begin.

Countdown to W-Day: Monday, May 2

This is the story of the epic (if we may say so ourselves) Ixapa wedding of Edouard and Camelia, seen through the eyes of the latter, with (promised) ulterior posts from the groom.

Chapter 3: Attack of the Cute Dolphins 

We start the day as two women on a mission: to swim with the dolphins. But first I take an early walk on the beach and then meet with the wedding planner, Rubi, at 10:00, to talk through the details: seating arrangements, DJ, photographer, food, vegetarian options, etc. Then I pick mom up from the (where else…) poolside bar and take her to lunch. Eventually, around 3:00 PM, we make our way towards Delfiniti, reserve our spots and wait eagerly for the program to start. 

Mom is absolutely mesmerized by the two huge parrots they have sitting on a branch in the entrance. We take photos with them, then we proceed to the waiting room, where we are soon joined by families with multiple (i'm talking four and up!) kids. 

And by mesmerized, I mean really, really, mesmerized

Mom and I look at each other thinking that we're a bit older than the general audience, but then one of the trainers walks in with the two huge parrots and they start taking photos with the birds doing awesome tricks like lying belly up in your palms and perched on your shoulder with their huge wings spread out. They turn out to be surprisingly light for their size. 

Then, we move up to the pools, where we get some basic training on how to pet the dolphins - with your palm flat, the same way you feed horses. We get to put on life vests and move into the (cold) water, where we first stand on a submerged platform and then are invited by the trainers to step into the actual pool and let the vests keep us afloat. This is where it gets tricky: mom flat-out refuses to step off the platform and into the water, terrified that she would sink. Finally, after much pleading and begging on my part, she finally steps in, shrieks, flails her arms frantically and eventually settles into a stable, if uneasy, floating position. 

And the fun begins: we each get to pet the dolphins many many times, then hold them by their fins and dance with them and eventually be carried across the pool twice on their amazingly strong , cool bellies, at incredible speed. Then we move over to the other pool and watch them dance in tandem, jump and clap with their fins. But the absolute best part comes towards the end: lying flat on my belly, two dolphins come from behind and push my feet with their round noses until i'm floating above water with the speed of a small motor boat. Exhausted and a bit terrified I collapse ungracefully at the very end.

Dolphin: "Let me show you how we boogie"
Mom: "If you let go, I will sink to the bottom and that'll be the end of me"

After a nap and dinner, Mom and I head out to town and buy a little white linen dress she had her eye on - she suspects i'll be steaming hot in my corseted dress on Saturday and will want to change into something more comfortable as soon as possible. How right she is, as always… Then we come back to the hotel and talk until the wee hours of the night, as this is our last evening alone, before people start showing up. 

Countdown to W-Day: Sunday, May 1

This is the story of the epic (if we may say so ourselves) Ixapa wedding of Edouard and Camelia, seen through the eyes of the latter, with (promised) ulterior posts from the groom.

Chapter 2: Working hard on the tan!

Mom and I have leisurely breakfast and mom discovers that dessert is served with every meal. From that point on, she refuses to behave like an adult and has nothing but desserts and coffee for almost every meal… We lie by the pool in the morning and move to the beach in the afternoon. We also claim our spots in the pool bar, where we will spend many pleasant hours over Pina Colada and cigs (mom) and Agua de Melon (me, trying very hard to be good and fit in my wedding dress come Saturday). Overall, Sunday is quiet and relaxed. We work on our tans and drink and eat like fiends.

Mom is very proud of her new straw hat and bag

The view from our hotel room.

Oh, yeah, and we get wind that somehow Osama Bin Laden has been taken out of the picture for good. I take that as a good sign for Obama's reelection chances and in general for our wedding and we go to bed with the TV on, watching CNN. 

A new flower pattern on our beds every day ...

Countdown to W-Day: Saturday, April 30th

This is the story of the epic (if we may say so ourselves) Ixapa wedding of Edouard and Camelia, seen through the eyes of the latter, with (promised) ulterior posts from the groom.

Chapter 1: Attention! Gringos landing.

After taking a flight out out SFO on Friday evening and landing in Orange County to spend the night at Odile's (Ed's mom) in order to drop off Minoush (our cat), we head out to LAX,  bright and early Saturday morning, Mamma Draga in tow. 

The flight to Ixtapa is only 3 hours, but we are so giddy with anticipation that it feels like five. In fact, Ed is playing mind games with Mamma Draga and mid-way through the flight she is convinced that we are actually going somewhere in Latin America, possibly Colombia. She is also wearing a white zip-up fleece that she commandeered as her own from my closet and swears that she will not take it off when we land. Her temperature-related suspicions are based on her experience in San Francisco, which did not correspond to her visions of California as a sun-soaked windless heaven. The flight is only half-full, so we have plenty of space to lie down and sleep. We also buy a soggy sandwich and regret it immediately.

After we land and collect our luggage, we are welcomed by Wes and Eric (aka Homes), cheery and already tanned, holding a sign that says "Senor Frog, Senorita Camelia and Mom." This cheers us up immediately (not that we lacked in the cheer department at all). 

We proceed to the car rental where Ed gets a little BMW and, with Wes and Homes following in their Pirata Plata Tres (still not sure why their car had such an intricate nickname, but i'm sure there's a story there), we head out straight for the Mercado de Zihuatanejo. A small aside: the stop at the Mercado is a tradition institutionalized by Ed's dad, who after many surfing trips with the three Gendreau boys realized that logistically and financially, it made more sense to buy half of mercado and take it to Saladita rather than try to feed them there and decimate the local Huachinango population. 

So, we stop at the mercado and get the bare necessities: watermelon, papayas, apples, grapes, bananas, an inflatable shark. Then we drive to Park Royal where mom and i get dropped off and checked in and the boys head out to Saladita for three days of surfing before most of the wedding party gets here.

The Three Musketeers: Wes, Homes and Sharkie 

Mom and I have a sinful dinner at the hotel's all you can eat buffet (we are staying at an all inclusive resort), and call it a night. The adventure begins with two very full bellies.

This is just a tiny sample. Not to be confused with the ACTUAL size of the portions we indulged in...