McFilter

Where to begin? It was such an excellent and jam-packed three-day weekend that it's taken me all week to get the photos up and write up the event. The photos are all available over here.

Like the groom, and quite a few of the other wedding guests, I stayed at the hotel hosting the reception on both Friday and Saturday nights. This meant that my ushering duties could start early with me helping to ferry items to be set-up at the reception and pick up the suits for the groom and his attendants. There was a minor panic when I didn't find a shirt with my suit, but one of my fellow ushers, Johnnie, had bought a rather fine new shirt for the groom so we had one spare. Of course, when I was hanging my suit up at the end of the Saturday what did I find hiding in the bottom of the suit carrier but a brand new shirt still in its packaging...

The Saturday morning dawned clear and dry, if a little gusty. At least the continual rain of the previous night had abated. After a hearty breakfast (for those of us not nervous of giving speeches later ;-) the best man's and my cars were both bedecked with ribbon and we headed over to the church.

Dan, the third usher, had done an excellent job of finding out what we had to do at the rehearsal so when we arrived at the church we had our strategy set: who would affix buttonholes, who would hand out the orders of service and who would show guests to their seats. Of course, as soon as the guests started arriving all our plans went to pot, but we soon recovered our composure and got everyone seated before the bride arrived.

It's a cliché I know, but Sam and her bridesmaids looked stunning. The service went without a hitch (well, apart from the obvious one... pun not intended, but I'll leave it in); the readings were lovely and during the signing of the register we were treated to a wonderful violin and piano duet. I was curious to see how Frankie Goes To Hollywood's "The Power of Love" would sound with just the two instruments; and the answer is it sounds rather good.

During the Address, the reverend discussed St. Paul's letters to the Corinthians. Luckily I managed to keep a straight face, as when he started all I could think of was Eddie Izzard's sketch on the same topic... "Don't do bad things, only do good things. Always treat your neighbour like someone who lives near to you. Never put a sock in a toaster..."

After a few photographs in the church grounds, and once we'd seen everyone safely on their way to the reception, we *ahem* chased the bridal convoy to the hotel. It's quite hard to sneak past in a bright yellow Integrale covered in ribbon, so we gave the bride and groom a wave as we overtook to ensure we were ready for their arrival.

Even though there was a freely available chocolate fountain at the reception, the guests were all well behaved and we didn't need our (impeccably colour-coordinated of course) riot gear, which freed us up to assist with the various groups together for the remaining photographs. And gave me opportunity to demonstrate how useless I am at shouting.

From then on the ushering role was greatly, although not entirely, reduced. We got to enjoy the meal and the speeches - the best man had enlarged a number of photos to suitably embarrass Ian. I forgot to take a picture of the one featuring me on my bike but the one of Ian streaking across the Coliseum is in the set.

As is to be expected, the celebrations continued well into the night. Much drinking, conversing and dancing was had by all; the bride's father's tireless dancing, even to the hip-hop tracks; Paul's (the best man) flamboyant and energetic style; and his girlfriend Natasha's Beyonce-style rump-shaking all deserving of a mention. I'd also taken a few of my finest Cohiba cigars so we ushers could celebrate the marriage properly.

Sunday morning saw us cram more and more of the dining furniture together in one corner of the restaurant with the ebb and flow of guests arriving for breakfast. We used the remainder of the buttonholes and ribbon to decorate Ian's car after he foolishly entrusted us with the keys so we could help with the luggage, and with our final act of ushering we escorted the honeymooners to a brief stop at Sam's parents' place.

There we went our separate ways, Ian and Sam heading west whilst I turned south giving Johnnie and his fiance a lift back to Cambridge. And to round the weekend off beautifully, we were treated to a musical send-off of "So long, farewell" (from the Sound of Music, as if you needed telling).