A Belgian Wedding

True love is busy. Ever since I stepped off the plane in Brussels, Hannes and I have been in a fervor of sightseeing, checking off a long list of must-dos in Belgium and Normandy. Hence, the utter lack of blogging. Rather than try to squeeze in all that's happened and all I've seen into one endless post, let's start at the beginning... the wedding of Hannes' mother Lieve and stepfather Frank.

As I write, Hannes is preparing me a signature Belgian side dish of mashed potatoes and spinach, so I can't take long (love is busy I tell ya!) before we leave for Gent to book his December flight to the US (and drink St. Bernardus and eat luikse waffles on the river.) The day I arrived we drove to the magical setting of the wedding to help set up decorations - a charming cafe/bar with open courtyard and converted barn. I cut tulle like a pro. I suspect, however, that we were more annoying than helpful, as we paused every 10 minutes to kiss like googly-eyed teenagers.

That night we feasted on a dinner of homemade Belgian stooverij at Lieve and Frank's spectacular house with its intoxicating garden dotted with apple trees and kittens chasing each other. We're talking a postcard property. Hannes' brother Brecht and girlfriend, Cynthia, joined in the pre-wedding festivities. We drank Duval by the outdoor fire pit after dinner - me wrapped in two blankets as supreme mosquito protection - and I felt like I belonged. Thanks to their hospitality and kindness, Belgium was quickly becoming a second home.


The following evening we awaited the surprised soon-to-be newlyweds, as they had no idea of the Indian theme of the wedding. Funny side note, EVERYONE was dressed in Indian garb except Hannes and I. Just what the sole American needs... to draw more attention to herself. Did get adorned in a bindi dot, though, which helped shave off a bit of the shame.

The rest of the night was filled with beauty, warmth, cold Duvall, spicy food, dancing, friendly conversation (some of which I actually understood!) and the repeated phrase said with a sly smile, "So you're the Compostela woman...?" News of our Camino Love had traveled fast. I hope these pictures taken on my iPhone and Hannes' Canon do it justice, as it's a night I'll never forget.








The courtyard nuptials.


The Bindi dot assortment.





We take turns passing around the sculpture of their united handprints, giving them our blessings.









Brecht and Cynthia.































The soul mates' first dance.


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Location:Stekene, Belgium