I'M AT: Casa Roja, Barrio Brazil, Santiago de Chile. A converted mansion full of nice folk, and beer, and a big kitchen, and lots of energy. Paying twelve thousand of ANY form of currency for a bed is a bit unnerving, though.
The only thing that Peter H's perfect wedding lacked was a fistfight.
I have to let you know how I came to be here. Peter H is so called because that's his username on a Crystal Palace chatroom. Ten months ago, he let us know he was to be married to his Chilean girlfriend, whom he met travelling, on October 28th, and invited anyone who was in Chile to attend. Did he expect anyone to take him up on this? I'd have to say maybe, because he was amazingly calm upon meeting me, basically a total stranger, on his doorstep, just an hour or so before the ceremony began, and only a couple of minutes before his mum and brothers arrived.
He lent me his suit. He gave me a drink. This man, with his huge heart, invited me into his flat, to witness, with thirty or so others, close family and old friends, his wedding. I can't explain how the union of two strangers was as moving as it was. It was obvious they were very much in love.
After the wedding, we walked around a maze of streets to find the restaurant, which had tables and flowers and candles and cocktails waiting for us, and we ate a huge mountain of meat between us, and drank champagne, and danced, and listened to Peter H read a dedication to his missus, first in Spanish, then in English, and it was just great. I made some good new friends as well - Dave, Geoff, Samantha, Martin, and an Argentinian bloke who insisted on making me speak Castillano with him, and who told me that a woman's true worth was the size and colour of her heart.
Peter H, I salute you and your wife, and wish you every happiness, for you are truly a generous and admirable man.
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