There is really not much I can say here that isn’t better said by the following photographs, which is how I believe it should be. The details one may want to know include that the bride and groom were married in the same Greek church in which the groom’s parents were many decades ago, in a small town outside of Kalamata, Greece. The church was the type you’d visit in your trip to Europe; the interior frescoes made you wonder when this thing was built, and the columns stood in such an austere way that you had to crane your neck to see the priest’s lips at the alter at the front of the nave that were projecting the Greek stream of words, sung as if a hymn, as if that would help you understand the verses. The experience was surreal.

After the ceremony, we rode a bus that wove its way through bucolic groves of olive trees, past ancient forts sitting atop hills, arriving at a coastal resort where we were treated to the best food (it was unanimously agreed) ever had at a wedding. What a feast!


Congratulations Costa and Abbey! Opa, and happy travels through life.



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