What could I do but quote the wedding planner? Everything was going wrong with my destination wedding. The beach was now, thankfully, tranquil and calm but it was still awful looking. The tropical storm that blew through last night had really littered the shore with debris.
“What more could go wrong?” I wondered.
“What more could go wrong?” I wondered.
I had so carefully planned my destination wedding in this 5 Star tropical Mexican Resort. Five Stars? They must have been referring to the stars you could see through the tatty palapas that were on the beach.
We had arrived two nights ago, tired and hungry after a long trip to Mexico, then an hour long drive in the heat and humidity to the resort. I came with my fiancé, my two bridesmaids, his two groomsman, my Mom and Dad, and two younger cousins from Toronto. This was going to be so exciting and so beautiful. I had been dreaming about this wedding forever. I’m kind of a mystical girl and I knew it appealed to me to be married on the beach at sunset. It would be wonderful, the pictures would be glorious and we would be MARRIED.
We checked into the resort, even had a welcome champagne cocktail and then went to our rooms. Okay, I guess, but nothing overly fancy. I thought they would do better as it was to be our honeymoon. We soon met up with the others in our group and hit what was left of the buffet—and had a few tequila shots and a beer or two. Word to the wise, not a great idea to sample from a wilting Mexican buffet; at least we know we’re really compatible because later that night, I had the ups and he had the downs. We got to sleep in though, and that helped.
My fiancé went off to the pool with his buddies while my Mom and I went to search out the wedding coordinator at the resort. Of course she was on lunch and was expected to return in three hours. Hey three hour lunches, I’m moving here! We wandered around looking at the resort and had some lunch by the pool. Surely that gazebo all decorated with red and yellow can’t be the same one that is in the wedding brochure pictures! It is no more than ten feet from the pool! And the people in the pool looked more like a page from National Geographic then a page from Vogue. It couldn’t be, but sure enough, they are setting up chairs around it! Love those fans they are putting on the chairs, nice idea, but surely that can’t be a wedding.
OMG, it is—Here are the bridesmaids dressed in cute black dresses, groomsmen in tuxedos and the bride and groom are walking over hand in hand-nice! But why did they choose red and yellow flowers—so awful, I mean really. Golly the wind is blowing hard. Dust and sand is flying everywhere and the bride’s veil is flipping around like a matador’s cape. The officiant can hardly speak English and who wants a mariachi band? We are all watching this wedding and I’m giggling like no tomorrow wondering if even the best photographer can cut out the fat guy in the speedo over to the right or the waiter with the tray of drinks walking by. Good thing I paid for the superior package!
Anyway, it was time to go back and see the wedding planner. She was very nice even if we did have a bit of a problem understanding her. First thing I asked was about that gazebo—Yes, she said that it was lovely, so nicely situated and since the other gazebo hadn’t been rebuilt since the hurricane our wedding would be there. I’m pretty easy going so I told her if that’s what it was okay, but she’d have to keep everyone out of the pool. No she couldn’t do that she said. This was a resort and they had to consider the other guests. I told her I didn’t want ugly people in bathing suits with their fat hanging all over at my wedding. She said we could get married inside in the ballroom and she’d be happy to show us. Wow, talk about your red and gold room. I think that it was channelling a French palace –even to smelling of wet and musty French poodle. No, this would not do, it had to be outdoors, it had to be at the gazebo and now it had to have all those uninvited onlookers.
I told her I wanted blue and lilac as my colours as we had discussed in the emails we exchanged. Great, she had the right tablecloths for that, the green of the Mexican Flag for table linens would be nice with that. Ack. No-I wanted blue or lilac tablecloths with the napkins the other colour. Not possible, senorita, she told me-we have, green, red, yellow and white and she thought the green would be best! No I want lilac and blue-no the linens would be green.
What about the cake, I asked. Yes, she replied, it will be ready soon. Three layers as I wanted, I asked. Three layers, she inquired? Yes, I wanted a three layered cake, you know three tiers with a bride and groom on top. My Mom had bought the cake topper from the best bakery in Vancouver and we’d like to make sure it fits in the cake properly. Three layers, she queried? I thought you meant tres leches—three milks cake. It is not made yet, too soon, and that it was made of three milks as I had asked and of course it would hold the topper. It was made in a rectangle shape.
Now she said, do you want the real wedding in Mexico? Did we bring the papers and would we be ready in the morning to go for the blood tests? Qui? What was she talking about? What do you mean that my wedding on the beach was only a celebration? What did she mean that we still had to get married at home or that we had to have blood tests, wait three days, and then be married in a civil ceremony at the mayor’s office? The civil marriage would cost us $200 USD and of course there were other charges to be considered, say $1000 would cover it.
My mother was now getting hysterical and using her “outside voice”. She had wanted us to use Vancouver Island as a destination and she was certainly letting me and the wedding planner know it.
To be continued:
We had arrived two nights ago, tired and hungry after a long trip to Mexico, then an hour long drive in the heat and humidity to the resort. I came with my fiancé, my two bridesmaids, his two groomsman, my Mom and Dad, and two younger cousins from Toronto. This was going to be so exciting and so beautiful. I had been dreaming about this wedding forever. I’m kind of a mystical girl and I knew it appealed to me to be married on the beach at sunset. It would be wonderful, the pictures would be glorious and we would be MARRIED.
We checked into the resort, even had a welcome champagne cocktail and then went to our rooms. Okay, I guess, but nothing overly fancy. I thought they would do better as it was to be our honeymoon. We soon met up with the others in our group and hit what was left of the buffet—and had a few tequila shots and a beer or two. Word to the wise, not a great idea to sample from a wilting Mexican buffet; at least we know we’re really compatible because later that night, I had the ups and he had the downs. We got to sleep in though, and that helped.
My fiancé went off to the pool with his buddies while my Mom and I went to search out the wedding coordinator at the resort. Of course she was on lunch and was expected to return in three hours. Hey three hour lunches, I’m moving here! We wandered around looking at the resort and had some lunch by the pool. Surely that gazebo all decorated with red and yellow can’t be the same one that is in the wedding brochure pictures! It is no more than ten feet from the pool! And the people in the pool looked more like a page from National Geographic then a page from Vogue. It couldn’t be, but sure enough, they are setting up chairs around it! Love those fans they are putting on the chairs, nice idea, but surely that can’t be a wedding.
OMG, it is—Here are the bridesmaids dressed in cute black dresses, groomsmen in tuxedos and the bride and groom are walking over hand in hand-nice! But why did they choose red and yellow flowers—so awful, I mean really. Golly the wind is blowing hard. Dust and sand is flying everywhere and the bride’s veil is flipping around like a matador’s cape. The officiant can hardly speak English and who wants a mariachi band? We are all watching this wedding and I’m giggling like no tomorrow wondering if even the best photographer can cut out the fat guy in the speedo over to the right or the waiter with the tray of drinks walking by. Good thing I paid for the superior package!
Anyway, it was time to go back and see the wedding planner. She was very nice even if we did have a bit of a problem understanding her. First thing I asked was about that gazebo—Yes, she said that it was lovely, so nicely situated and since the other gazebo hadn’t been rebuilt since the hurricane our wedding would be there. I’m pretty easy going so I told her if that’s what it was okay, but she’d have to keep everyone out of the pool. No she couldn’t do that she said. This was a resort and they had to consider the other guests. I told her I didn’t want ugly people in bathing suits with their fat hanging all over at my wedding. She said we could get married inside in the ballroom and she’d be happy to show us. Wow, talk about your red and gold room. I think that it was channelling a French palace –even to smelling of wet and musty French poodle. No, this would not do, it had to be outdoors, it had to be at the gazebo and now it had to have all those uninvited onlookers.
I told her I wanted blue and lilac as my colours as we had discussed in the emails we exchanged. Great, she had the right tablecloths for that, the green of the Mexican Flag for table linens would be nice with that. Ack. No-I wanted blue or lilac tablecloths with the napkins the other colour. Not possible, senorita, she told me-we have, green, red, yellow and white and she thought the green would be best! No I want lilac and blue-no the linens would be green.
What about the cake, I asked. Yes, she replied, it will be ready soon. Three layers as I wanted, I asked. Three layers, she inquired? Yes, I wanted a three layered cake, you know three tiers with a bride and groom on top. My Mom had bought the cake topper from the best bakery in Vancouver and we’d like to make sure it fits in the cake properly. Three layers, she queried? I thought you meant tres leches—three milks cake. It is not made yet, too soon, and that it was made of three milks as I had asked and of course it would hold the topper. It was made in a rectangle shape.
Now she said, do you want the real wedding in Mexico? Did we bring the papers and would we be ready in the morning to go for the blood tests? Qui? What was she talking about? What do you mean that my wedding on the beach was only a celebration? What did she mean that we still had to get married at home or that we had to have blood tests, wait three days, and then be married in a civil ceremony at the mayor’s office? The civil marriage would cost us $200 USD and of course there were other charges to be considered, say $1000 would cover it.
My mother was now getting hysterical and using her “outside voice”. She had wanted us to use Vancouver Island as a destination and she was certainly letting me and the wedding planner know it.
To be continued:
