The UK Wedding

Spied in Budapest - the Biggest Fru-Fru Wedding Cake Ever!

A recount from the terrible bride's maid.

It's no secret that I'm not a fan of weddings. I like them probably as much as going to the dentist, which makes me feel bad, as all girls getting married want their girlfriends to be gushy and to love every minute of it.  When R. asked me to be her bride's maid, I said yes, not because I wanted to, but because I knew how important it was for her and because she's such a dear friend, I'd do anything for her. But I just couldn't shake off that "I hate wedding" feeling, and because I couldn't, I felt incredibly guilty throughout the entire process. I even had a few nightmares about the wedding. The more I tried to push away the feeling of dread, the more I just wanted to run in the opposite direction.  Does this make me a bad and selfish friend? I hope not.

I dislike weddings as I think the fuss and expense involved is just not worth that one stupid day where you're parading around, going through the motions of what you need to do for a wedding. I find that all weddings are pretty much the same, and the traditions have become meaningless. Most girls want to get married in a church for the sole purpose of having the church as the backdrop for their wedding photos. And nobody really deserves to wear white anymore.

Many weddings run the risk of becoming a circus spectacle. You don't get to spend any quality time with anybody, as you're just running around trying to get through the entire procession. As a spectator, I don't think it makes much of a difference whether you're there or not - a live size cut out of yourself would serve the same purpose for the wedding photos. And if you're a part of the wedding party, you run the risk of dealing with bridezillas and becoming entangled in family politics.

My advice? Take all that money and throw yourself one fabulous party or go on a whirlwind holiday instead. 


This bride's maid needs another holiday. *sigh*


The Hen's Weekend

 Honestly, if I had to organise one of those stereotypical drunken hen's nights where the bride wears a fake veil with a flashing tiara and the bride's maids wear those sashes.... Complete that with bar hopping at seedy bars with a stripper to end the night - somebody slash my wrists already, please......

Much to my relief, R. didn't want any of that. Instead, she suggested that we do a weekend awayando check out a few of the many baths in Budapest. Well, to be fair, it wasn't so much her idea but mine; visting the baths in Hungary has always been on my list. I had mentioned the idea in passing quite a while back, ("Hey, wouldn't a spa weekend away be the best idea for a Hen's weekend away?") and admittedly, when she brought up the idea again, I secretly wished that I had never mentioned the idea to her in the first place. As much as I love that girl, we DO NOT TRAVEL WELL TOGETHER. The last experience at Sun & Bass - (not going to any of the gigs as they started too late, being afraid that other guys "might" try to pick her up, her telling me that she's never ever going to have another holiday away from her fiance as it was just too difficult to be apart,) well, I'm just surprised that she has such a poor short term memory. Anyway, R. hinted at the idea of Budapest numerous times to the lead up to her wedding. The first couple of times she brought it up, I let the subject slide in hope that she'd forget about it. In the end, I relented and I'm glad we went. We still aren't the best of travel buddies, but as nothing significantly bad went down on our trip, it's all that I can ask for :)

(Above: Chain Bridge)

 

The Highlights: 
- The beautiful Szechnyi Baths

(Above: Me before I packed on the travel kilos.... *sighI)

- Having the best orange duck at Cafe Kor
- Eating kremes (vanilla cream pie) @ the Ruszwurm Cafe, Castle District

- Listening to classical music at one of the many concert venues in Budapest.

The Lowlight
The "massage" at Palatinus Baths on Margaret island. It was akin to getting a spa treatment at a dilapidated public pool. The story goes that R. insisted on coming here as she thought I really wanted to go there. I, on the other hand really wanted to go to the Gellert baths, but because R. was so insistent on Margaret island (to the point where we were starting to have an argument,) I relented and agreed to go the Palatinus Baths instead. 

 Talk about the wrong choice.


The Kitchen Tea 

It was on the same day as the Wimbledon's Men's Finals. Truthfully speaking, had I been offered front row tickets, I don't think I could confidently say I would have chosen the Kitchen Tea over the Tennis Finals.....

(Above: the original "Bride's Maids" - before the movie)

Okay, give me that "I'm a fucking bad bride's maid and friend" t-shirt.....

R. makes sushi which is barely touched by the English ladies who peer suspiciously at it, turn up their noses and ask, "What on earth is that?"
MIght I add that in this part of the country, the groom had not even tried rice until this year. 

 

 

R.'s fiance A. soon realises that he has made a poor choice in his best man. The best man's middle name is "Disorganised", and hasn't organise anything special for the buck's night. He is also an hour and a half late for their group night out of town. R.'s brother, mutters something about the bars in Coventry being "a bit rough" the following day, which says something, given that Rockingham is the equivalent of Essex in Perth.

The Dress Fitting

Alice through the Looking Glass, Bristol

 

We head to Bristol for R.'s final dress fitting. The other bride's maid J., is all drama and doesn't come. Why? She was involved with some guy who lives there some 5 years ago, and thought she might bump into him - in a city of one million, while in the bridal store, of course. 

(Yes, there was screaming and crying to the lead up to the wedding with me sandwiched in the middle - God help me.) 

Above: The Wedding Dress

R. is disappointed that neither her mum or I cry when we see her in her wedding dress. I don't know how to tell her that I'm just not that kind of person.
 

The Making of the Wedding Cake

The making of the wedding cake started in the early hours of the morning. R. was extremely stressed as there were cracks appearing on the icing of the cake. I stayed clear of the kitchen and hid upstairs in the spare room.

The Wedding

The Location: Coombe Abbey

The Vibe: Old English Manor. 

The Honeymoon suite - Medieval and Dusty Looking

(Beautiful, but the old manor style reminds me too much of a stuffy, dusty museum. Eh, each to their own...)

My hair: 

Curled 1920's style. The end result: in a pretty dress and flower in my hair, I looked like a China doll.

Interview with the Celebrant: R. stressed about the formal recording of her having lived with her fiance prior to getting married.

Gottcha: R. got what she wanted as I started crying moments before she walked down the aisle.

 

The Weather: There were some patches of sunshine in the early hours of the morning, but became overcast as the wedding was about to start. It was good for the photos, the photographer said. It (thankfully) only started raining after we were done with the photos.

 The shoes: Started to hurt towards the end of the Wedding Breakfast. The dress actually started hurting around about the same time. It was tight to begin with but even tighter after I ate dessert......

(Above: The bride's maids - J. & I)

Above: The New Wedded Couple

The Dessert - Strawberry Shortcake

The Wedding Dance: The Lion King's "Can't you Feel the Love Tonight"

The Cake: Three tiers of traditional fruit cake, chocolate cake and lemon cake. Yum. And no, (much to R.'s relief,) nobody couldn't see the cracks!

 

The present: The Best Man re-gifted his canoe - along with a left handed paddle.....

The Snide English Remark:  I was told that "We have a more civilised way of doing things (ie: weddings) over here." 

Well, at least we Aussies know how to throw a party and don't limit their guest to one alcoholic drink in fear that they might "make a scene".

My Island Home Moment: R.'s dad (the proud Aussie convert,) requests Men at Work's "Land Down Under" and all us Aussies chant "Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, Oi, Oi, Oi!!"  - much to the chagrin of some of the English people there, I'm sure. 

The Faux Pas: The Best Man (who didn't stay overnight in the Manor,) popped around in the morning for the breakfast with his girlfriend in tow. The breakfast was apparently only for the close family and the bridal party who stayed over. The groom was really annoyed, made snide comments and shook his head at everybody else, but the best man.

The Bad News: The photographer asked R. if he could use some of her wedding photos as a part of his display portfolio at weddings expos. She said yes of course, so now there's a photo of me (holding a perfume bottle and making a funny face,) floating around the UK forever in a wedding. Great.

The most important thing of all was that R. got the wedding she always wanted, and I'm glad of that. x