SMS and Eira's Wedding

A Special Report by Cal

A typical wedding has three stages: the ceremony, the meal (with speeches) and the knees up. All of which follow the conventional pattern which is, apparently, the "dream wedding" of every right-thinking woman. SMS and Eiras' wedding (naturally) was different.

There were three ceremonies. Two in the splendidly romantic location of Lever Park near Bolton (Victorian terraced gardens with follies and water features, gone wild in the most picturesque way possible) and one at Rochdale Town Hall (nineteenth century civic pride, in stone, with all the trimmings).

We met up at the bottom of the park (believe me, the most important direction in this landscape is definitely the vertical), at 9 am. Defying all predictions, and completely spoiling Mark's sweepstake, SMS and Eira were on time (possibly due to having no fewer than four best men and a best woman). The weather was fine throughout, probably because SMS had carefully reminded us on the invitation to bring an umbrella because it would rain.

Halfway up the hill, a grand stone staircase was the location for the Methodist blessing. Simple and sincere, with musical interludes on the flute and what we were informed was a bicycle pump. (I've never heard anyone actually get a tune out of one before).

Further up, after much debating over a creased map and disagreements over the route, the Pagan handfasting was held on an island in a lake. Slightly delayed by stragglers ("Are we met?" he cried, "um, no... not really" came the reply), the ceremony involved candles which refused to light (to the relief of the crowd who were expecting someone to go up in flames any second as robes trailed through the torches) and wonderfully romantic vows. Drinking mead out of a drinking horn without pouring a libation down your cleavage is even harder than I thought it would be.

The civil ceremony featured Eira in a dress with a magnificent train borne by winged bridesmaids. M@ petrified the registrar by getting up at the "just cause or impediment" bit and announcing "Stop, I'm the real SMS!", followed by cries of "I'm the real SMS (and so's my wife)" from half the rest of the guests.

The Best Mens' speeches were a game of "Just a Minute" (subject: SMS). Eira proved that she could still get on a trapeze while wearing a wedding dress and high heels (I think a stepladder is forgivable under the circumstances). The assembled company was then entertained by three trapeze performances (by Eira's friends) and a band specially imported from Southampton.

All weddings should be this much fun.