The adventure started on Friday morning, when I rocked up to a house with no obvious front door, to be greeted by Amy, birthday presents (Mrs Beeton's Household Manual and a ring with a camera on - so very me!), a cup of tea and some breakfast pastries, soon to be joined by Joe and Nikki. Half an hour of sustenance later and we hit the road, Midsomer Norton bound.
Amy, Nikki, Joe and I were assistants together in Germany this year, and live spread out over the north of the country. But our group
wasn't complete. One couldn't join us because she had taken a job in Germany, and the other wasn't there because it was for her that the wedding bells were ringing in deepest darkest (well, sunniest actually) Somerset. 6 hours of car journey flew by in a haze of chatter and laughter as we made our way south, catching up on holiday excitement and giggling at... well, just about everything. Even a diversion, a long long queue and getting lost couldn't dampen our spirits, and eventually we arrived at our B&B, Welton Manor Farm House, where we were greeted with warmth, friendliness, a beautiful bedroom and Fortum and Masons tea! A trip to the chippy and we were in a happy, albeit slightly tired and greasy state, picnicing with fish (or sausage), chips, rose wine and tea, enjoying the cheesey classics of Heart FM.Breakfast was served after a night of heavenly comfortable beds. Tea, coffee, melon, croissants, muesli, blueberry yoghurt, toast and jam.... we weren't sure when we'd get to eat again! We took our time with getting ready, and set off to get us to the church on time. It was a special wedding for the four of us, being the first wedding of a close friend that any of us had been to, and as we sat in the church I don't think any of us could quite believe that Ezta would lose her surna
me to the man she already called by his. But it happened. She looked stunning, he looked dashing. Her dress was of creamy white satin, tight at the bodice and voluptuous around the skirts, with ruching and tiny pearls, a white rose at the hip below tiny satin side buttons, and he wore a black suit with a deep red waistcoat and tie, matching their best man, ushers and bridesmaids. They made their vows, there were prayers and readings and songs, her father gave them a blessing and her brother sang as they signed the register. The ceremony over, they walked out of the church to Queen's "Another One Bites The Dust", the consequent amusement of the audience, and flashes of many cameras, to mingle with their guests over cake and sparkling wine. They then headed off towards the red Audi that awaited, to be showered with confetti and drive off in the sun.We were hungry, and hadn't taken into consideration the fact that the average pub wouldn't serve food at 4pm on a Saturday. When we eventually found one, well, a sausage and onion sandwich and Somerset cider had never tasted so good. We talked about everything and nothing, and the others got me to build a picture of my ideal man, who turned out to be Aragorn, as played by Viggo Mortenson. And so, well fed, we returned for the evening do, still speculating about the last dance, the music for which had been a secret. As it happened we were none the wiser after the first dance (late, as it only could be, being Ezta's wedding!), as none of us actually knew the tune! But they danced beautifully, twirling and turning. I don't think Ezta quite meant her statement of "we'd
practised that without the dress on" to sound quite how the audience took it, nor to rip said dress during the dance, but it was worth it. The jazz band struck up, her dad began to sing "Mack The Knife". Let the dancing begin. Later she sang, and then the cake was cut, and we got to talk a little, which was lovely - the car trip had been lacking a little Ezta-shaped something. The evening passed in a "Livin' La Vida Loca" salsa dancing, star-gazing, cake-eating fashion before we tumbled into our not-quite-as-comfortable-as-the-night-before beds, and Joe and I talked a good few hours of nonsense before sleep found us.It was time to say goodbye to Ezta, get back on the road, listen to more cheese, eat more chocolate, make the most of the time we could spend together. We reached Manchester "bang ahead of schedule", where we met my sister for a hot chocolate brownie and drink in a cosy little pub before we really did say goodbye, catching our trains to our own lives.
I heart my assistant friends. I heart travel. I heart fish and chips from its paper wrapping. I heart singing along to old pop songs. I heart the excitement and beauty of weddings. I heart pretty dresses. I heart dancing. I heart laughing. I heart my sister. I hearted this weekend.
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