Members of family = +1
Friday, November 4, 2005

So finally it dawned. At the end of the day, I would have a sister-in-law, a set of outlaws (apparently that's what my brother's in-laws are to me) and there would be a set of nieces and nephews in potentia from now on.

But first: how do you spend the morning of your wedding? Playing golf, if you're my brother. I'm not a golfer but the Australians do it right. First of all, the course was just beautiful. Second, they supply you with all the equipment. Third, you don't have to carry your bags for a yard; instead you get these souped up golf carts which really bomb you about the place. There were twelve of us in total and I teamed up with three other non-golfers to generally hack and slice our way down the course.

I had gone round in 70 when we decided we needed more balls, having lost twenty five between us already. So we dashed into the clubhouse and collected another twenty, ensuring we'd be able to complete the next 9 holes without any problems (yeah, 70 after 9 holes. Not great). I managed to lose balls to woods, water and even a surly looking kangaroo. I could have gone after it but he just had this expression that suggested he wanted to be Mike Tyson to my Syd Little. Discretion being the better part of valour and all that, I finally wound my way to the 18th, a rather long par 5. But I hit a beautiful drive that flew down the fairway. I decided to chance my arm again with a three wood and lo, that soared onwards too. I was a good pitch wedge away from the green now. Unfortunately, my shot was a bad pitch wedge and it scuffed along the ground, skidded into the bunker but fortunately managed to roll out of it.

As the other 8 had gone ahead of us, we had a little audience as we walked into the last. I was still a good 50 yards from the hole and didn't feel comforted from the heckling we were all receiving. What's more my brother was even video taping it all. I stepped up, addressed the ball and swung. Clip. Whoosh. Tap. Tap, tap, tap. Astonishingly, I had landed it a mere two feet from the hole. I turned to my brother who, of course, announced that he had just stopped filming. The one good golf shot of my day, possibly my life and he missed it. Still, I had a two footer for a par, which no-one in my group had got yet. Slight problem. I can't putt. Seriously. I had had several shots of matching length that I had three and even four putted. But this was for a par. I focused. I practised. I visualised. I tapped it. Plop.

Par. Now granted, there's not much positive spin you can put on a round of 129 but, well, after the par, I couldn't care less. I could actually see what the attraction was of golf for my father. We all went back to the clubhouse and had a good lunch of burgers and chips (although most of us rejected the ubiquitous beetroot. I don't know why but Australians love to put beetroot in their burgers in bun sized chunks.)

Finally we went back to our house, huts and villa to get dressed. As part of the bridal party, I got my tuxedo plus a rather snazzy waistcoat/cravat combination. I pulled my outfit on, but remained standing under the ceiling fan to keep my cool and sucked on a Callipo lolly to get my body temperature down. Fortunately everyone got ready at pace and we left on time. We had a little mingling at the clubhouse, followed by a slightly nerve jangling ride on the back of a golf kart to the lake where the ceremony was going to be held.

We were all pretty much there, waiting for the bride and bridesmaid when *crash* a bucket of flowers toppled over. It stood on top of one of the pillars by where the couple would get married so we hastily gathered round and tried to repair the damage. Naturally the sight of four men in tuxedos trying to arrange flowers when we had not the first clue gave the congregation much amusement.

Finally they were placed back on the pillar and the bridesmaids swept in. My sister looked radiant but then it was the bride and she was just stunning. Rob didn't know what dress she had and you could tell he was blown away too.

The service itself was lovely; non-religious, warm but not too "we wrote our own vows" wacky. The celebrant was good fun too. After a reading from Captain Correlli's Mandolin (no, really) they were pronounced husband and wife. Awwww.

While everyone went to the clubhouse for drinks and such, the wedding party of us ushers and bridesmaids went off to do some more photos around the course. I suppose you only get one shot at this (well, normally) but it did go on a bit. Still eventually we headed back to the clubhouse where the drinks were flowing and my uncle was already under the influence.

In Australia they do the speeches between the starter and the main course, rather intelligent I think, given how bloated everyone is after the food (which was very good but not exactly to my taste). My brother got a fair amount of stick and Rachel's beloved Wales also got a certain amount of "Well, let's say Wales is a real country" ("It is a real country!") plus they moved things along at a good pace so all was well. Finally the couple stepped up for the first dance of Rod Stewart's You're In My Heart. My brother danced in the manner of the harmonica playing dog: you're not supposed to be impressed by him doing it well, you're supposed to be impressed he's doing it at all. Let's just say he barely had two moves and this was after they had taken lessons in preparation.

Still, I can't be too judgemental, I did nearly punch out one of the ladies present with an over-exuberant swing of my arms. But yes, there was dancing to the live band, fronted by a Des'ree-esque lead singer who was hit on by Vinnie. While she was singing.

Finally the majority of us piled onto a waiting bus to go the nightclub Reef again, complete with hockey songs sung badly the whole way there. More dancing ensued followed by the final curtain. Back to homes. Confetti all thrown, champagne fading away, dinner jackets all tidied away (as Morrisey wisely advised, hang the DJ).

So there you go. My first family wedding for a good 15 years. Probably won't be my last but I doubt it'll be in anywhere quite so beautiful as Noosa. Anyway, as a reward for making it through all these quite possibly rubbish recollections, I thought you might like to see how I looked in my wedding outfit.

Nifty, eh?


Saturday, November 5, 2005 6:01 PM



Friday, November 4, 2005 4:33 PM


Now that we know what you look like, we can dispatch the assass- um, I mean, uh, the pizza delivery guys.

Unless that's actually a picture of someone you don't like, who will now be... receiving all your pizzas. Yes.

Friday, November 4, 2005 3:52 PM


heh, anon, oops.

Friday, November 4, 2005 11:52 AM


Heee. I loved your descriptions of the golf game. My dad plays golf all the time, but I'm like you... getting par would be about the highlight of my day with a score well into the hundreds.

And there ain't nothing wrong with beetroot, dammit.

Glad the wedding went well. And, ain't you just a cutie?

Friday, November 4, 2005 10:53 AM


AH, so you CAN be photographed!!! We were wondering.

And nifty doesn't begin to cover it... ")

Friday, November 4, 2005 10:48 AM


what a lovely picture. You look very smart, and I'm glad the wedding went well.

Looking forward to seeing those swinging dance moves in a few weeks time...


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