I wore a fascinator, in the grand tradition of English women at English weddings. Changes are happening. And this is one I can get behind!
On the long drive down we endured the never-ending rains, and drove by Stonehenge, which never ceases to amaze me. Driving by Stonehenge! What a life!
I had a handsome date, sporting the same suit he wore to our wedding nearly a year ago. Dashing, I say.
There were polka dots and retro shoes.
And the tiniest chapel in the middle of nowhere in the green hills of the West Country, up the steepest hill (which we all had to traverse by foot, in the rain, in our heels, because the bus couldn’t make it).
The reception was at the groom’s parents’ sprawling farm, with gorgeous views (and cows!) far as the eye could see. Even the rain couldn’t spoil it. The gorgeous marquee didn’t hurt either, as we were kept well protected from the elements.
A string quartet greeted the guests from the chapel, accompanied by lots of champagne and hors d’ouevres. Swoon.
We danced and drank and drank and danced and I’ll say that a 12 hour wedding celebration with a live band, a dj and a pig roast late in the night is a helluva way to have your nuptials! Maybe the greatest way.
And-a photo booth. I love a good photo booth. But who doesn’t?
Of course after the rainiest of weeks (record breaking, actually, with flash floods and everything) and a very damp wedding, we all woke up a bit worse for wear on Sunday to absolutely gorgeous blue skies over Exeter. After a hearty breakfast (pancakes for me, full English fried breakfast for Jon, Amy, Kal and Colin), we hit the road for the 5 hour drive back to Brighton. We even made it a few hours back towards the South East before the rain started again!