Of course I had to share a few photos from the wedding in Tournon. It was a complete blur of French wine, homemade cider, food, food and food. But here's where we started...
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Danny drove in from Germany for the occasion, missing his exhibition opening in Frankfurt. On a side note, if you happen to be reading from Germany, I would highly suggest you check it out.
We piled into his tiny Euro rental and headed to the church to hang out in the narrow cobblestone streets with this lovely lady before she walked down the aisle. La plus belle mariée à Tournon, non?
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The entire experience was one of surreal beauty. How did we get from swapping clothes in our clammy suburban cross country locker room 15 years ago to this? The time in between seems to pass simultaneously in haze and clarity, always exciting.
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Goofing around. Holding each others bags. Brotherly pestering. Things have changed, of course, but not really so much. Time. It was time. A quick drink before the ceremony. Beer in one hand, roses in the other. My Nancy.
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And then, they were married. Cheers of happiness erupted in the church, running out into the streets where we showered them in lavender. A beautiful ceremony followed by (I'm not even exaggerating here) 11 hours of partying. It's a wonder I made it to the top of Mount Kilimanjaro the following week, but more on that later!
