Not your typical wedding weekend

Between stalking people with purple hair (See Obs 2), castle climbing, and an exploding toilet, I didn't have the most traditional wedding weekend. It didn't start on the right foot either when I realized, once I was out in the cold and dark of the Talavera train station, that my jacket hadn't made the full trip and was flying off to some other Spanish city. The wedding was going to be held at Sara's Uncle's house in the remote town of Mejorada. However, we headed to Segurilla, the next town over, where our hotel was located. It wasn't really a hotel but a grand 12-room mansion, ran by a Romanian couple in the middle of nowhere, called a casa rural.

I didn't realize how rural it was until I asked to use their iron for my shirt for the wedding. They led me- ok us, Sara and her Mom as well (I have seen horror movies before and I wasn't about to die alone.)- down to the basement where we were greeted with a "professional" ironing machine, cerca 1972. Before throwing my shirt under the iron I asked her to demonstrate first. She snatched a napkin, put it unde the iron, and without even pressing down all the way, the napkin turned from a silvery white to a charred brown. I decided my shirt was just fine the way it was and scampered back upstairs.

Back upstairs we were getting hungry. It was almost 10p and we were still waiting for the rest of the family to arrive, so we decided to make our way into town for some dinner. It was surprising that in a town that small, with only one restaurant, how no one seemed to really know where that one restaurant was. We received different directions from three or four people along the way before we finally found it. We ate well, but before we had paid the bill, Sara's Uncle busted in, grabbed us and took us outside where I was bombarded by 20 members of Sara's family. We all left for a pub in the city before finally calling it a night (See Lesson 6).

The next day was the wedding, which was not your traditional wdding, because both the bride and groom were getting remarried. It was held in the living room of Sara's Uncle's house, and instead of white, the bride wore a glamorous green gown. Of course after the (five minute) ceremony we ate like at a traditional wedding. We toasted between mouthfuls of various pintxos, jamon, lemon sorbet, steak, and cake. After digesting, we went for a hike around the ranch, played games with the kids, and later took over a sketchy bar, where I did my best James Brown impression. We also got free drinks at the bar, including kalimotxo (coke and red wine) served in giant glass boots.

That night, after everyone had gone to bed, Sara and I stayed up talking in the lobby. When we finally went to bed I found the door to my room was locked. Sara and I eventually broke in around 4:30a (Lesson to come). After breakfast Sunday morning we all drove over to the Medieval town of Oropesa for the day, where we went castle climbing. Afterwards we went for another stroll around the ranch at sunset, where of couse I sprained my ankle and had to hobble the last couple km back to the house in the dark. That wasn't even the worst part. Sara's family is full of doctors, so of course when they got word that I had been hurt they all rushed over to examine me. Eventually I was propped up in the kitchen with a bag of ice rubberbanded to my foot and 8 people looking over me.

Later that night, back at the casa rural, our toilet exploded around 2a. I still have no idea why. We were sitting in our room and all of a sudden we heard a gush of water which we thought was the shower. When we went to check it out we realized it was the toilet and it was starting to flood. I didn't want to call the Romanians- I was afraid they would terrorize us for breaking it- so we just turned off the water, put down a few towels, and went back to bed.

Overall it was a great weekend. Sara's family is incredibly nice and genuine and were always trying to communicate with me in one language or another. The food was amazing, as always. We drank lots, we danced, we made fools of ourselves- I guess it was your typical wedding weekend.