Matt and Abby's wedding was wonderful. Just about as perfect a wedding as can be imagined. And it has been blogged elsewhere from here!
Once we got out of London (two hours...!) the journey to South Cave was uneventful, except for the pool of water that leaked from our under the car as we took a leak at the Little Chef in Nottinghamshire that had run out of name badges.
Good food and excellent drink at the Fox and Coney - I was on Timothy Taylor Landlord.
An attempt to get tot he petrol station/off licence had us driving instead on the motorway-like A road halfway to Leeds and back before buying a couple of bottles of wine at the pub and heading back to the hotel. We were intercepted in the car park by Charlotte and Chris wondering where we had got them (they went away happy with knowledge) and over to Pauline-and-family's cottage to borrow a corkscrew.
Breakfast and horse feeding was followed by a walk of an hour or so from South Cave to Everthorpe and back, a quick pint, and back to the hotel to change.
We arrived at the church at just the same time as various cousins, and the bridesmaids. Eleanor had clearly found herself a 'new best friend' in Grace, Abby's mate from Uni who had looked after her at the rehearsal and did so during the service.
Matt and Abby seemed quite relaxed as they got married. As they signed the register the North Ferriby Ladies Choir sang the Bach-Gounod Ave Maria and another song about Love is Like a River - not the Stevie Nicks song. Before they started, Joseph, being a little boy turned to me and said "Cover your ears." Afterwards he had to admit they 'weren't bad'. For many adults it was very moving.
Few photos were taken outside the church, but it was a quick rush back to Rudstone Walk for more photo taking.
The weather held off wonderfully - Jimmy and I were amongst the last handful to go into the marquee and we had to stand under the tree to finish our cigarettes.
The speeches came first - from Abby's father Alan, from Matt and from Dan, whose previous outing as best man had seen a 45-minute speech, but he admitted he had received death threats on Friday - he was timed at seven-and-a-half, plus presentations. Alan referred to the fittingness of having the reception in a tent, asking us to leave our sleeping bags at the door.
The food was excellent, it was good to see six cousins (and three partners), an uncle-in-law, father's cousin and her husband, plus various of Matt's friends I had not seen in ages - nice lads, especially the housemates from his second year, Giles, Ed, Tim and Mark.
The evening's festivities featured a big band which seemed to go down with the youngsters as well as the older folk. No one misbehaved, and I only had one argument with one cousin who manages to combine arrogant condescension with woeful ignorance and stupidity, and I have concluded that I was right to dislike him from the age of nine and charitable to make an effort in my twenties. I also received a copy of the Nottingham Evening Post property section, which was good.
We left the reception at about half twelve and crashed back at Pauline's cottage. Joseph was asleep on Pauline's lap - having carefully collated all the Little Chef name badges he had received from various cousins, and Jimmy was nodding off. Pauline said we had better go because Eleanor would never get to sleep until we did!
We saw the bride and groom off to Oban, warning them about the treacherous stairs in the Oban Inn, and then we departed. The journey was wonderful until We crossed the M25, then it was horrible as our hearts sank. A day and a half in a beautiful part of East Yorkshire, and then a return to grotty aggressive London.
