Procida, Naples, Italy
Procida. Why? Well, that's easy, look at the photos! No, but we see your point - it's a generic Italian seaside townscape. So we understand if you might repeat the question at this point.
Italy - it may not be Switzerland (try as the Lombards may), but for us, it is neutral, in that, it's not France, and it's not New York. Plus, one quarter of the soon-to-be newly-wed pair can trace their roots to this terra madre, and speak the lingua franca. Finally, given the aforementioned importance we attribute to food and drink, Italy could surely not fail in this respect.
Procida - a volcanic island in the gulf of Naples. Yes, the paternal line of the Caccavo family derives from the area of Naples, making the choice somewhat of a genealogical boomerang. But to be honest, the choice was more geographical than cultural.
As the story goes, Mathieu, ever the Italophile, proffered the national option. It was Jilda who honed in on the particulars of the surrounding, having been inspired by the wedding of the Italian private Farina and the Greek prostitute Vasilissa in the movie Mediterraneo (1991), which won an Academy Award for best foreign film (check it out). Thus it had to be an island. A small island. One that no one had ever heard of, importanza strategica, zero. Research was done, and this website (in Italian, but translatable) was particularly helpful. Of the ten islands featured in this list, seven had establishments where weddings could be held, and so we ultimately visited three. Among the three we visited, was Procida the prettiest? the most interesting? the one with the tastiest offerings? No. All the islands were wonderful, and each had pros and cons. But if we are to learn anything from Shakespeare, it is that comparisons can belie.
Procida, and specifically La Suite Boutique Hotel, offered the best possibilities for all of our most important parameters (all-inclusiveness, food, drink, location, lodging, amenities, services). And so here we are! Or rather, there we will all be.
We spent less than 48 hours in Procida during our visit, so do not feign to be experts on the island. But you know who could legitimately claim to be such an expert? The internet. Happy reading! What we do have the ability to say, is that:
They have large lemons, with which they produce tart and tasty salads, as well as limoncello.
Their buildings are colorful, their churches old, and their sand black.
The island is extremely small (4.1 square km, 1.6 sq miles), and quite densely populated, particularly in the summer.
Most of the island is developed, with few wild spaces, though there are beaches free of the typical Italian beach carpet (rows and rows and rows and rows of chairs with umbrellas, basically to the surf line..).
There are no sidewalks, and the streets are barely wide enough for small vans to pass through - cars and bikes drive recklessly, and pedestrians flatten their backs against the cement walls of the vicoli as they pass.
Is Procida a pristine paradise of genderless H.G. Wells future people? Not even close. But it's a real place, just like Brooklyn, Paris, Berlin, San Francisco, Lyon, and all the other gritty, beguiling places from whence our many guests hail. And what better place to celebrate real love, and real life, than on a real tiny island off the coast of among the realest of the port cities, Naples, on a hot early July evening on the crest of the roaring 2020s?