The first Hillwalking Club Wedding took place this year, between Jane Strange and Tim Haskins. I think that just about everyone who has ever been a member of the club should know who they are. After numerous rumours and stories about whether the event would actually take place, a large contingent of Old Duffers were there to fester in true style. We all flew in from various places, myself the previous morning from Brazil, Margaret the previous week from Bangladesh, Pete from the States via a multitude of European countries on the way, and Nick on his one day in the country between France and Iceland; Pete, Toby, James and Andy were also there.
We all arrived Friday night from our several directions, descending to present wedding presents and find a beer. This was a high priority as some of us hadn't had English beer in months to years. We found some grim material (Samuel Smiths), and retired to bed.
Saturday dawned bright,Tim was in a fluster trying to extract his boxer shorts from Toby's bed (????), then asking James a multitude of times about where the rings were. I managed a miraculous fix on my car that turned it from, the breaking down heap of the previous evening into, the groom's transport to the church. Everyones else went to town to get the regulation shaving foam, tins, balloons etc., before fighting our way through the race day traffic of Chester to the church, arriving fantastically early. Tim was nervous, James was more nervous (and he wasn't getting married) everyone else decided they needed a beer, but couldn't find anywhere to procure one. Jane arrived a little late as is her privilege looking wonderful in a cream dress, with bridesmaids in dark blue; though from the way her foot shook as she came out of the car she was a little nervous too. The wedding went all to plan, and we wandered off to the reception.
There were photographs, and more photographs; it was hot, and a desire for food and drink were brewing. Eventually we sat down to an excellent reception, some good speeches and a very embarrassed look from Jane when the 'Unofficial Trip Book' appeared from under the table during James' speech. Her parents and family were enlightened about a few of her exploits while hitching in Scotland with a carful of Glaswegian lads. Finally we set about vandalising the car, with shaving foam, tins and a pair of walking boots, before finishing off undrunk glasses of champagne and retiring to Chester. In the evening we found an excellent pub, drank a few beverages, before finding a curry house with the rudest most uncouth waiters in the whole world. Their curry wasn't much better either. A long rambling and for the most part directionless walk back to the Hotel was then described.
Now free from the Bride and Groom who had repaired to the Lake District for their honeymoon we set off for Wales to attempt to fester our way up Tryfan. A fundamental mistake then occurred, Andy produced the Scrambles book, and I reckoned I recognised a route I had done some years earlier. We went to try and find it, we found it, but then proceeded to completely miss the easy bits and do a very hard scramble. Minus much of the skin on our fingers we finally made the summit, rested took photos, before Pete, Toby, Jim and I descended to go home; and Andy James and Margaret continued their journey around the Glyders.
I for one really enjoyed myself that w/e, who is going to get married next then so we can have another weekend of this sort?
Last modified: Wednesday, 25 April 2007, at 19:58 (BST)