Countdown to W-Day: Wed., May 4

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.

Chapter 5: Getting Crowded, Getting Nervous, Getting There

Today is a big day. I can tell from the moment I wake up. Mom and the girls and I have breakfast together on the Veranda where little black birds keep swooping in and stealing food from the busboys' trays and occasionally from people's plates. At ten sharp I rush to the lobby - finally ready for the photographer appointment. They show me nice slides of other gringos' weddings, I take it - to reassure me of the quality of their services. They do seem very good and i find out, to my surprise, that the total price we negotiated includes a ' casual session' for the two of us. We schedule it for Thursday evening at 6:00 PM, at the 'golden hour', and part ways. 

It feels weird to be in the hotel room all alone and sitting at the table, but I need to write many many! welcome notes for our guests and to get ice so i can have the bubbly chilled in time for my bridesmaids. I'm done with everything, including dropping off the wine and notes at 11:00, which leaves me with exactly 45 minutes of sun-bathing before I have to take off for the hairdresser appointment. I join the ladies on the beach just in time to see my mom playing "sun sergeant" (in particular with Kelly, who came pre-sunburnt from a street event in Atlanta). 

At 11:45 sharp - plus minus a Pina Colada, I head towards the hairdresser, conveniently located across the street from Hotel Presidente. Since I missed two mornings' worth of sunbathing in a row, i decide to walk towards the center on the beach, and cross towards the street over at Hotel Presidente. I notice that nobody is really walking on the beach and i ascribe it to the noon heat; but then I get to Presidente and find out the real reason: only two hotels on the whole strip allow visitors to cross over their property and they're at opposite edges of the strip, as one of the guards kindly but decisively informs me. That won't do, though, because it's 12:05 and I really need to be at the hairdresser. So I argue, beg, flirt and then beg again in my worst gringo faux-Spanish until the guard falls victim to my charm offensive and lets me through.

 I rush to cross the street and walk up to a nice, clean-looking and utterly closed salon. I ask around, wait, walk for a bit, still nothing. I remember having spotted an internet cafe close by the day before, so i head over there and take a seat in front of a computer to check my mail. I decide i've earned myself a treat and order a frapuccino. I then spend a half hour of caffeinated, wired ecstasy. I haven't touched email for five days and it feels like I'm  coming up for air. But half an hour later I've had way enough "air" and HuffPost and I'm ready to sink back into the warm, chlorine-smellling waters of internet-free vacation. I only hang around for long enough to finish the last milliliter of frappucino and then i speed-walk back to the hotel.

It turns out i get there just in time to watch most of my bridesmaids - Kseniya and Monika -  Ana gets here a little later - along with my friends Violeta and Didi check in. Hilarity and joy ensues. We hug, kiss, commingle sweats and take the elevator up to their room. Unfortunately, the bubbly is not yet there, so I return to the front desk to inquire, just in time to see Ed checking in. This is starting to be the theme of the day… He's back from his Saladita break, tanned and relaxed like only surfers can look. We hug, steal a kiss and i give him a progress report. In all likelihood we won't see each other again until drinking time, after the adults go to bed. I return to the girls' room and champagne got there, chilled and all. We drink, take hilarious photos and videos (among others, one of Didi suggestively opening the champagne bottle) and giggle till our tummies hurt. Eventually I let them unpack and make themselves comfortable, and join my mom on the beach.

Where there's a will, there's room for everyone...

Later, at dinner, Ed and I sit at separate but tables, each with his guests, until we realize how silly that is and cram all together around one round table. Dinner ends on a high note. I tuck mom in and then head out to our Discoteca, to do a quality check and make sure it's suitable for the post-wedding bash. Turns out the guests are already there and we all proceed to drinking and dancing until around 2:00 AM when we get kicked out by tired bartenders. 

Discoteca passed the test with flying colors; but we're all really sweaty and hot, so we collectively decide to go for an ocean swim. Most of us don't have swim suits on, so we just dive right in with our sweaty party clothes. Somehow I still have the common sense to take off my earrings and long skirt before wading in. Don't ask me how. It's incredibly fun and we're all behaving like the ocean is our private bathtub. I'm exhausted but really really happy, and i can tell Ed is, too. We finally retire for our rooms. My sandals are really squeaky and they wake mom up for a second, just enough for her to ask why i am wet and for me to mumble something about a rogue wave.