Saturday, May 03, 2003

 

Day 9. Usk, Wales. Saturday 3 May 2003. The Wedding of Vicky and Ian

The Pre-wedding Morning

Well the important day had arrived. I was awake at my usual 6 a.m. and I read until nearly 8 a.m. A quick wash and I would shower later before dressing for the wedding. Then down for breakfast, I was hungry so a full English breakfast was in order or, that should be full Welsh breakfast. Juice and cereal followed by egg, sausage, fried bread, tomato and a large slice of excellent bacon and plenty of toast. Then more toast and marmalade. I shouldn't’t be eating this, all this excitement makes one hungry! Much superior to the 3 Salmons where we stayed last visit. All the Irving’s were present and the morning chatter was loud. We talked for a while before going upstairs to our room.

Pat decided we had better call round at the Cross Keys Hotel in the Main Street to see if Ian was coping, or maybe to see if he was still there! He was, enjoying a cup of coffee. He had the “penthouse” suite up at the top of the hotel. Stairs and more stairs, doors and more doors as we wended our way upward, narrower and narrower, or so it seemed.

We left Ian and headed off to our hotel to dress, it was close to 11 o’clock. I showered then opened up the wedding suit package. Grey suit, grey tie, grey handkerchief matching waistcoat, black shoes, white shirt and cuff links, Mr Charles had thought of everything. I thought I looked very smart in the full-length mirror.

Pat came out of the bathroom dressed in her outfit and hat and her matching shoes that she had so much trouble finding she looked a picture. All ready we went downstairs to the lounge bar to find everyone gathered. Gillian looked very pretty in her dress which suited her and Anthony was very smart in his three-quarter jacket suit and tied cravat as best man. I was proud of both of them. The buttonholes arrived and Gillian fitted mine. Quentin and Michael rushed in “had we any extra buttonholes?” yes the bride’s family ones had been delivered with ours!

The Wedding and Reception

We left for the Church and the Vicar stopped me at the door and we chatted for a few moments and he asked if I would sign the Register after the ceremony, I indicated I would be honoured to do so. We were shown to our seats and soon Peter Shillito came with Vicky on his arm and she looked stunning in her sculpt wedding dress on her slim figure. I found the simple traditional ceremony moving and I had more than a tear in my eye for both of them. The signing of the Register in front of the congregation I thought put the finishing touch to the wedding ceremony. The showery day held off for a few photos and then we left for the reception by car up at Usk Castle and held in the marquee. We parked the car in the paddock and managed to navigate our way across the sloping paddock, Pat clutching my arm tightly sheltering under the umbrella and on we went upward on the matting laid path to the seemingly distant marquee beckoning.

Once inside the upbeat chatter made up for the damp walk and with a glass of wine in hand we met again Vicky’s family members and friends of the previous evening and new ones too. I must say everyone made us very welcome.

Peter Shillito called us all to order and the speeches began. Peter recalled he and my similar Ullswater heritage and our similar ideals. Strange, we were raised only 4 miles apart and we never met.

Ian gave a fine speech and ended with a quote from Browning much to the surprise of Vicky. I too, was surprised; I didn't realise the hidden depths of Ian. Anthony as best man gave an equally fine speech finishing with a Kiwi phrase at the conclusion of the official speeches telling everyone to “go hard” meaning to let ones hair down and party. A number of people queried the phrase later. The speeches were videoed by John and I must say he did well under the trying circumstances of highly variable sound levels. Pete did an equally good job, ever at the official photographer’s elbow as Pat’s “official photographer”. After taking many off the cuff photos of all of us.

We dined on Salmon and Coronation Chicken catered by the Rustic Caterer’s and ample wine. The official photos were taken outside in the light drizzle but we didn’t mind mellowed by the pleasant event, food and wine. The bridesmaids Megan, Vicky’s goddaughter and her elder sister were in thin sleeveless dresses and looked very cold indeed. I, and many others I suspect felt sorry for the pair of them.

After Wedding Party

Later in the afternoon we returned to our Hotel for a rest and to refresh, we had the evening party to attend and as the bridegroom's parents we still dressed in our wedding clothes, which I didn't mind too much. After the reception quite a few of the wedding guests called it a day, evening was mostly for the younger members of the families and extra guests who did not attend the wedding and reception. When we arrived, the marquee was humming with people and conversation. We managed to find a table to hold us at the rear and this was where we stayed all evening, hemmed in by the large crowd of people. We met many more of Vicky and Ian's friends and acquaintances and they all appeared lovely. One of Vicky's late father's work friends was a sales engineer and he had visited NZ many times in his work and knew Hamilton well.

Later in the evening supper was provided but I was so full I couldn't face any more food even though it was curry. I was persuaded to have a little from Pat's plate for which she had brought two forks. As the night progressed the younger members partied harder and the music grew louder, just like back in NZ. The cameras flashed and the dancing grew wilder, Gillian had a proposal from a band member, an astronomer and we all thought it hilarious when she told us. We just had to sit there and nod if anyone spoke.

The midnight witching came and we decided to go, I was worn out. The crowd had thinned a little and we made our farewells. The party eventually broke up in the early hours of the morning. As we wended our way with John and Edith in the dark down the dimly lighted matted path we arrived at the muddy parking paddock and in the dark. I could see dim bulk of John's vehicle in the top corner and we felt our way across in that direction. Facing us halfway across was a remembered short steep ridge and I guided Pat and Edith round the bottom but John didn't realise and ploughed ahead to fall flat on his face in the muddy grass. However other than mud no damage was done, we reached John's camper and we drove back to the King's Head. I climbed the stairs and fell into bed with Pat not far behind me. It had been a long day and I slept solidly.

Postscript

The last party goers left drifted away around 4 p.m. As Quentin and Michael drove slowly home to Maryport Street in Usk a lone figure was spotted tramping on foot slowly to-wards Chepstowe. Quentin said to Michael "isn't that the best man"? and Michael said "I think it is, we'd better pick him up". They took him back to Maryport Street while deciding what to do with him, trying to obtain the name of his hotel. All they could elicit from him was "lets go inside and have a drink".

posted by OldEric 3:15 am