The 29th of April 1997 was a beautiful spring day. It was the day. W-day. After having thought for many years that marriage was sort of like death (something that would never happen to us - only to distant relatives and the like), it felt quite odd when we finally came to the Princeton Mayor's office.


Together with our parents (this was to be the smallest wedding in the West...) we walked up those final steps, approaching the ominous point of no return.


After Mayor Michelle Tuck-Ponder had asked us the magic ``Will you...'' question and we had sworn that we would, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health (yes, in New Jersey it's ``I will'' nowadays, not ``I do''!), it was ring time.


Phew! Done! Now we no longer live in sin! Angelica's folks (Dulce and Ubirajara, to the left), and Max's (Karin and Harold, to the right) are relieved.


Now the challenge is to escape all those cameras flashing at us from all directions.


Ooops! They caught us again! But it's OK to kiss now that we're married.


Ubirajara treated us to a delicious wedding dinner at Restaurant Mediterra, and Angelica sat next to her father-in-law.


Since our parents were staying in our flat, we decided to spend our wedding night in a more romantic place than the two borrowed cots in the study: here at the Peacock Inn.


So what's our advice to those of you who've had the energy and endurance to read this far? It's that love and marriage is a great thing, but with certain ridiculous side effects that warrant a word of warning. After a while, your behaviour starts converging: you start thinking the same way, saying the same thing at the same time, and even making the same gestures...