That would be San José, Costa Rica, where we first saw eachother, waiting in line to board our flight to Quito. My friend Cindy spotted him first, and we amused ourselves trying to guess his nationality. She thought he was German. I thought he was Dutch.
Yeah, okay, I was technically (or temporarily) wrong. He married me anyway. After 16 years, I’m still deeply thankful. And still a tad surprised.