Despite somewhat harrowing travel misadventures (barfing in air, bag losing, etc.), we were thrilled to be in Cape Cod this past weekend for the wedding of our dearest Charlottesville friends. I only took a tiny handful of photos, so you’ll have to excuse the quality/quantity, but I exhibit them here as proof of the magical weekend.
The brides with L’s nephew, at the rehearsal dinner
The glowing brides at the rehearsal dinner
And a shot of me officiating (barefoot! Forgot my shoes, whoops) the ceremony, taken by Guion (who provided the sweet ceremony music with our good friend Julie)
We are so ineffably happy for these two and feel so honored to have joined in the celebration. They are some of our favorite people on Earth, and we are full of joy that they are finally married. Pure delight.
And now we are happy to be back in London, back “home,” where the roses in Regent’s Park are winding down but the days are steadily getting warmer.
We are settling in to our new (temporary) life here in London, and everything—commuting to the office on the Tube, buying groceries at Waitrose, strolling around our neighborhood—feels surreal, as if we were suspended in this magical and yet very domestic dreamworld.
Guion bought himself a guitar yesterday, so he’s certainly feeling more whole.
Our flat is a short walk to the magnificent Regents Park. We walked there on Sunday in a jetlagged haze but still enjoyed all that it had to offer.
Other mental notes from the first few days:
Working in the financial district makes me feel the most like I’m in New York but otherwise, the cities seem to bear little cultural resemblance to each other. The underground, for one, is incredibly quiet and neat. No one is singing or panhandling or talking on the phone or eating pizza. Everyone is stoic and discreet and perhaps a little on edge.
Everything is expensive.
A classic trench coat was a good purchase, and women here actually do wear them all the time.
The other thing all women seem to be wearing are these slim, black-and-white Nike trainers. I think every fifth woman I pass is wearing a pair. (I brought slim, black-and-white New Balance sneakers, so I am decidedly off trend.)
It is all very charming and part of me feels guilty about how emotionally easy the cultural transition has been. I expected it to be harder? More jarring? And maybe it will be, as we’re only a few days in…