They decided on a medieval wedding. They live at Campagne-sur-aude (aka Lower Tilling) where the village church is a rather special Templar fort so it was a smart move - but the ceremony still had to happen in the town hall as well and the Mayor did the job with a happy heart:)
(Hmm Im finding an historical anomaly here captain )
Max and I did a nine hour stretch at this fabulous event and its quite difficult to compress it into prose; we left at midnight, he jet-lagged, me old, before they'd started the duck course. We walked back to Tilling - nightingales sang as we tottered along the star-lit riverside- marvelling at the french joie de vivre.
These scenes are because Les Compagnons used a catapult to pelt the women and children with bon-bons and later to hurl the brides bouquet. They asked for marriageable virgins but settled for single women. 
Max had quit his habit, nice short brown frock with hood that showed his legs to perfection, for cooler eating. The day was a scorcher. The knights wore quilted padding under their armour stuff and must have been roasted like the suckling piglets we ate. Which reminds me, I sat next to the only french vegetarian Ive ever met! He ate his plate.
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