Whilst driving down the M5 past Bristol, hours later, I get a call from my friend Becky (yes, Bluetooth headset = legal, thankyouverymuch). Anyway, so it turns out she's on the same route but only about 15 miles behind. So, after having slowed to 50mph for a while (anyone who knows my driving will know what an excruciatingly painful experience that was for me), she catches up and we were able drive in convoy the rest of the way. Whilst I arrived in good spirits, she most certainly did not. As soon has her partner was out of earshot she muttered something about "being divorced in a year at this rate" (he was being quite the grumpy bugger), and we continue to have this conversation as we cross the car park to the site of our mutual friends' wedding...
The Wedding itself? Well, a fabulous, if rather expensive venue. Rumours abound of the jaw-dropping price the whole wedding shebang was costing (over 20k!!) - staggering seeing that they're both in in-between jobs and are living with her parents. A little birdie (mate of mine - the best man) even mentioned they'd taken out two loans to finance it all. One memorable day versus years of financial strain ahead?!
But she always did want the fairy tale wedding. And fabulous they did look too; they deserve it, bless 'em. Wonderful people, both mad as Badgers, and that's why they make such a good couple.
Great thing about a civil ceremony as well? They cut the crap. Less readings, no hymns, no dodgy singing. Just wham-bam-thank-you-bride, and hey presto y'married!
Nice reception afterwards; lovely food, good conversation and cute East European waitresses.
The evening 'do'? A 50's jazz band got things going, which was all well, classy and good. However the set went on for almost three hours with very little up tempo stuff. Shame really. So, Strictly Come Dancing on Valium it was then.
So the DJ sets up next, one would have thought to get the party started in a Pink sense. Ah, no. She proceeds to spin records one after the other which surely must have been picked from some Channel 4 'worst records of all time' list. Most of us sat staring into our drinks, aghast, and even the bride & groom looked a little embarrassed when the second Black Lace tune of the night was played. Cheesy? Well of course it's meant to be, it's a wedding for crying out loud. But no need to tip the scale into vintage Camembert...
A minor shame to end such a wonderful day in a bad Peter Kay sketch sort of way. However, this did allow plenty of time to chat (or at least try to chat with my still-hoarse voice), to friends old & new. Apparently many tip me the next in the circle of friends to get married, out of the three remaining bachelor candidates. I can't say I'd put a bet on myself though. I known Albatrosses with busier love-lives, I'm embarking on a career with incredibly unsociable hours and my all-round self-confidence plums new depths. So no, I don't see it myself.
Went to bed in the early hours as the storm front was hitting, the evidence of which was all around on the drive up. Gorgeous cooked breakfast this morning though in the plush surroundings before pointing the car north(ish) for the drive home. Uneventful, if a little slower journey home thanks to the usual god-awful merging etiquette on Britain's motorways. However this did allow for a longer more varied mix of CD's played in the car on the way home; from Madonna's Immaculate Collection through early Coldplay via the latest Faithless.
Tiring? Yes. Expensive? Bloody. Worth it? Of course. As stated previously; they're great friends and I'd do anything, or go anywhere for them. Even Plymouth.
Next up, Christmas.
It's looming worrying close already don't you think?