Tuesday, February 16, 2010
wedding in the tropics
So that was a festive wedding.
It involved a bunch of British expats out from Singapore, as my mate was marrying one of ‘em.
Because it was about 38 degrees in the shade, with humidity thicker than the by product of a hippo, in addition to an open bar, that’s probably why the said poms were running about in their Russian reds just after dessert.
It was mayhem, probably the most festive weddings I’ve been to, like ever.
And not only because I was carrying a baby goat through a location, on beach sand, in patent red killer heels and a silver bubble dress at 5 in the morning.
(A local mate organised ‘lobola’ for the Brit marrying our mate. Hence the goat logistics, in my wedding attire, through the location from whence the cloven animals hailed.)
It replenished my soul this weekend. It was great to be in Zululand again after so many years, and the sugar cane is looking shweet. At least from the beautiful colonial lodging in which we stayed.
Think we even all skinny dipped at one stage in the pool, but cannot be hundred percent sure. The sweat was dripping Darryl. Love seeing the pictures in the aftermath – everyone has this really attractive oily sheen going on.
My mate got married in a bush clearing – literally a space was made for chairs and a bucket load of paper fans in the middle of the tropical scrub. One expected a hippo to come bursting through the din, or at the very least, a swinging gaboon viper.
The Brits had to wear morning suits – all very dapper and high brow, that is until they took them off to rumble in the bushes; dance about in their doondies. Hell it was festive – how bloody refreshing.
The bride went to bed the same time we did, at 5am. We all got shitfaced, completely bat-eyed fucked actually, and it was a glorious affair. Saw old friends from school by the dozen and partied like it was 1998. The festivities just carried on the following day.
It completely revived my soul – being out of Noburg, going to a beautiful part of the country, being with mates, sweating out half my body weight, carrying goats around and seeing my mate from Singapore of course, on her happiest day.
We also had a night out in St Lucia - God, when was the last time anybody did that?
Quali-ee. As one pom said.