Wedding Belles

Last week saw me finishing work on Wednesday with a smile on my face and a song in my heart as I didn't have to return to the office for five whole days. We were going across to Northern Ireland for Helen and Colin's nuptials and the associated partying. I duly finished scrubbing my flat in preparation for my parents to stay in it while I was away and we set off, along with Ray, Morag having flown ahead to do bridesmaid type stuff.

We took the scenic route down through Galloway, taking it in turns to drive. Both the boys fell asleep at one point, leaving me to entertain myself by wondering what to wear in my hair. We passed the Cream of Galloway (mmm, ice cream) and a smoke house I visited with Fi, Hils and Morag last year (mmm, smoked stuff). But there was no time to stop! We had a ferry to catch.

'What do you have in the boot?' the guy at the terminal asked Al. I saw him mentally run through the list: bags, a rug, spare oil, a kilt, a dress, twenty five different sorts of hair decoration...'Oh, you know...just stuff,' he succinctly summed up. Ferry man nodded. 'On you go then.'

The ferry terminal at Stranraer proved less than worth hurrying for, however. I'd been quite hungry when we went in, but the sight of the array of 'food' on offer in the tin shack convinced me to wait until we were on board. Instead, our combined brain power (together with that of Hilary and Barry who we met in the car park) won £5 from the 'Who Wants to be a Millionaire' game. Then Hilary and I looked at magazines. I bought Glamour and she went for Elle (free bag) while the boys took the piss until Al found a copy of Landrover World he actually wanted to buy.

We sat in the car with Al reading Glamour (what men really think about sex) and I read Landrover World (top tips for buying a second hand Defender) until Fi, Ailsa and the dogs arrived. The dogs looked pleased to see Al and put muddy paw prints all over the car and him. The crossing was swift and uneventful other than an announcement being made for someone to come and collect their lost child. It took us ages to exit the terminal at Belfast, partly because of rush hour traffic and roadworks, but we also had to drive across some carpet soaked with disinfectant as a foot and mouth prevention. They didn't ask us to get out of the car though, so foot and mouth must not survive on shoes.

We made it to the B&B, which was in the middle of nowhere but quite pleasant in a newly-built sort of way. One couple, it was announced, would have to stay in the other guest house up the lane. I volunteered us on the grounds that it would be mean to make Ray go on his own and anyway, we had just spotted some freaky fake children. The landlady had these manikin models of kids scattered round the house in dark corners. Maybe they were supposed to look like they were playing hide and seek but they actually looked like they were crying and/or hiding from a paedophile. So I was more than happy not to share a house with the weirdly realistic things (the dogs barked at them too).

Helen, determined to make the most of the event, was meeting folk in Armagh for drinks so we drove in for some food as well. Here we met up with Rob and Phil who had earlier in the day called me.

Rob: 'You know the wedding?'
Me: 'Yes.'
Rob: 'Well what time does it start exactly?'
Me: 'One o'clock.'
Rob: 'Excellent. And the church would be...?'

We were all knackered and poor Fi was not looking forward to her debut singer/songwriter performance so we tried to head off not too late, to Helen's chagrin. We charged Morag with making sure she didn't drink too much. And I drove a full car back to the B&B while Al and Barry went to get some booze. My passengers coped admirably with my inability to work the headlights and the occasional excitement of an unsignposted 90 degree turn in the rain and we arrived back safe and sound and with time for a few drams before bed and the Big Day.

The Big Day started with a Big Breakfast, as Maureen the landlady provided us all (apart from Fi) with two eggs, two sausages, three slices of fried bread, unlimited tea, coffee and toast and what can only be described as a 'heap' of bacon. I ate it all. Felt a bit sick, but it would have to keep us going till the evening meal. I squeezed into my dress with Al's help and faffed around choosing a hair decoration for about an hour before we set off. We were under strict instructions from Helen not to be late so we arrived almost an hour early and wandered around - or tottered around in my case, as I was wearing my lovely but rather impractical Prada shoes. It turned out we had even more time than anticipated as Colin's family were held up for half and hour by road works. Luckily the Reverend kept us entertained with practice runs of the responses while various wedding party members got out of cars and walked the last two miles.

The wedding itself was a nice service - not too long or with too much God stuff. Helen's brother read a beautiful Celtic blessing which didn't mention God at all. Fifi sang amazingly and sounded completely relaxed doing so. The bride and bridesmaids looked gorgeous but were outshone by the cute flower girls, who behaved perfectly for the service but proceeded to bash each other with their flowers and wrestle each other to the ground outside.

We took a roundabout route to avoid the roadworks between the church and the reception and ended up being first there, in time to greet Helen and Colin who had been stuck in a traffic jam in a Rolls Royce with only a bottle of champagne to sustain them. Then the fun really began. Both a champagne and a Guinness reception! Huzzah! My camera had broken so I appointed Al my official photographer. I stood around drinking champagne and directing him: 'Al - get a picture of the bride and groom.', 'Al - the bridesmaids.', 'Al - a group shot.' He was very patient (possibly due to the amount of Guinness available).

The meal followed, with waitresses constantly offering me more wine, champagne and potato of various forms than I could fit on my plate or in my multiple glasses. We shared a table with friends of Colin's parents who had been roommates at university. Just like me and Morag, I pointed out! Just think, they said, in thirty years we could be at each other's children's weddings...scary thought.

Helen made a fabulous speech and Colin an almost as good one...we hid in the bar for a bit and accidentally missed the ceilidh but there was a great cheesy disco. The first dance was 'Especially for you'! I danced a lot and was very happy and slightly drunk...the combination of the three later led to accusations of me being much more drunk than I actually was. In all, probably my best wedding ever.