I do and sí quiero

We went to a wedding at the beginning of this month. It was only my second in Spain. The last one was back in 2017. That time it was a civil ceremony but it was a full scale event with both the bride and groom turned out in traditional style  - white frock for her and a suit with a waistcoat for him. The setting for the ceremony was dignified, we threw things at the newly married couple, they drove away in a classic limousine and the do at a hotel afterwards was posh and tasteful. There was copious and excellent food, lots of drink, smart clothes, little presents from the bride and groom, speeches and modern touches like a "photo booth"; the full works. Spanish weddings are very recognisable to Britons, there's no best man and the language is different but otherwise it's all very much to format. 

We did get to go to a wedding in the UK in 2019. That time the setting was a country castle with an oak panelled bar where the Lagavulin flowed. The ceremony was in the open air in a walled garden with the British weather threatening to do its worst. The groom and best man wore tailcoats. There were bridesmaids and pageboys. The bride was in the sort of white wedding dress that people comment on. A sit down meal, forks tinkling on glasses, please be upstanding announcements, loosening of ties, cake cutting, first dance, uncles and aunts, cousins, in laws, a crying baby and never ending photos. Memorable.

Our most recent wedding, planned for 26 March was a bit different. The decisive difference was that it didn't take place as planned. It was also different because it was a same sex wedding. The reason it didn't happen was that the person whose job it was to process the marriage paperwork got ill. The documentation languished on his desk for weeks. The ceremony was due to take place in Pinoso Town Hall with the mayor officiating. I think the story is that when the mayor's secretary phoned the couple to check some details the realisation dawned that none of the appropriate permissions had arrived. The couple kept calm, accepted that the ceremony had to be postponed but saw no reason to cancel the lunch they'd booked at a local restaurant. Maggie was a witness, which is why I got to tag along. Covid restrictions meant that the numbers for the civil ceremony were limited so it was just seven of us that enjoyed the champagne and the special menu. Whilst we were at the table news arrived that the paperwork had been delivered to the Town Hall. A vision of the Japanese Ambassador waiting to deliver the declaration of war to the US Secretary of State in 1941 sprang to mind.

The wedding ceremony did take place nearly a week later. The second time there were just eight of us in the  mayoral office to witness the couple tie that knot: the mayor, the translator, the couple, the two official witnesses and two hangers on (Paco and me, partners to the witnesses). Ceremony wise it wasn't quite on the same scale as the weddings above. It was a really nice event though. The ceremony just felt so friendly with quite a lot of laughing, plenty of verbal asides and a bit of line fluffing when it got to the all important, sí, quiero - the Spanish "I do". I grinned a lot and shed a tear or two. And we got to go back to the same restaurant for a second time.

Trainee journalists always used to start in the births, marriages and deaths department. Fortunately for us, although we're still missing a baptism (and the incredibly important Spanish rite of first communion), the uplifting events still outnumber the one funeral that we've been to this century. I should add that Maggie, being much more sociable than me, has done other weddings whilst I've moped at home claiming poverty.