I woke up quite refreshed and reasonably early, allowing time to go shopping and buy some new shoes for the wedding this afternoon. I was in two minds about the expense, but the only shoes I had with me, the ones I was wearing, were black leather Chelsea boots, not tie ups. I debated with myself whether it’s okay to wear Chelsea boots with a suit (they are black shoes that rise just above your ankles, not the boots worn during a match by Chelsea footballers) and decided that it would probably be okay, in as much as no-body would think too much the worse of me, but I like things to be done properly and so got a shiny new pair from John Lewis. In the event, when I got dressed for the wedding in my room, I was glad at my decision and felt properly attired. Which is a pleasant feeling.
Glasgow’s West End is magical, and where the cool kids hang out. It costs a fortune to live in the Byres Road area now but it’s always attracted a musical and arty set, drawn by the parks, gardens, alternative culture and beautiful houses. It is undoubtedly where I would live if I moved to Glasgow and indeed many years ago A and I were taking a stroll when we saw a house so perfect we both promised that neither of us were ever allowed to buy it, because it wouldn’t be fair on the other. It’s probably a very expensive house, so I don’t know if either of us will ever be in the position to buy it, but it is lovely (take Observatory Road off Byres Road and it’s the first right by the church, Observatory Crescent perhaps, and it’s number 8). Maybe one day I will be able to spite A forever by living in it. She will be allowed to visit.
But the day wasn’t about being cruel to A, it was about seeing her sister Vaila get married to Ewan. The whole event was held at Oran Mor, which is multi-functional building in a converted church. Downstairs there is a bar, upstairs – via a spiral stone staircase in a tower – you enter the old church and looking up admire the painted ceiling, in blues and gold, with a bar on a raised area at the back, alter at the front, and rows of chairs set out in between. It’s a perfect place for a wedding. We took our seats and turned around to see Vaila, A, and their Mum Elizabeth enter with the accompaniment of a piper and walk down the isle. A was bridesmaid for the day, and all looked lovely.
The minister, Ian, was a real character and quite the comedian. Indeed, his service was really a stand-up routine, although this seemed strangely fitting and certainly didn’t lack sincerity or message. The happy couple exchanged vows and, after a big round of applause, they were man and wife. We moved to the back of the room for champagne whilst the staff performed a mini miracle by removing all the chairs arranged for the service and replacing them with several large round tables for the meal.
It was good to see so many people I’ve either heard about or not seen for ages. I’d not had the pleasure of seeing David Kay, a comedian, for several years and so it was a pleasure to catch up with him. His brother Andrew is also a face I’ve not bumped in to for a long while. Andrew is deaf and whilst his family communicate using sign language, he carried a pad of paper around to chat with others. When he saw me through a crowd of people he waved and then, to communicate that I’ve put on a few pounds in the last few years, did a comical bloated face. God bless the charming deaf community.
Indeed I was sat next to Andrew during the meal and found it strangely enjoyable to communicate by writing on a pad of paper for the simple reason you can write rude or outrageous things when you’d normally have to look suspicious by whispering or saying them under your breath. It’s quite a secretive way of communicating so long as no-one looks at the pad.
Speeches! Always a highlight. Then the tables were cleared for the Caleigh. I don’t know why I wasn’t looking forward to this – it was huge fun. A live folk band on the stage talk a large circle of people, standing boy-girl and holding hands, through the simple moves, and then they strike up a tune and you dance it. The great thing is that it’s pretty simple but looks great when a large number of people are doing it in unison and therefore you feel you’re doing a pretty competent job yourself. You rarely stay with your partner for long and so find yourself dancing with a stranger every few moves which is just very friendly and perfect for a wedding. All occasions should have a Caleigh.
Apparently official Caleighs are quite uniformed affairs, with mistakes frowned upon, but at weddings it’s all just a bit of a free-for-all and nobody cares if you mess it up a bit. You just do your own thing before you’re grabbed back in. I enjoyed it so much that after the band had had a break and started playing again, I was dragging up old ladies to participate. I am the new King of Caleigh.
Nothing wrong with getting drunk at a wedding, and it’s just plain rude not to at a Scottish wedding and so we duly obliged, hitting the bar with gusto and making new friends. The wedding fight between drunken guests, de rigour in England, is also not traditional in Scotland and this could only add to the friendly atmosphere of celebration. I went out for some air and took a short walk to Observatory Road to look at the house I’m going to infuriate A by living in one day, and returned soon after for more festivities.
I can’t clearly remember getting a cab back to the city centre to my hotel but I suppose I must have done and fell to sleep tired and happy. It was a wonderful day, made all the better by the crucial fact that Vaila and Ewan are a lovely couple who are made for each other and this marked the start of a long life together. Forgive me being an old softie, but it’s true. In start contrast, I am faced with a train journey on my own to Derby tomorrow to talk rubbish in front of people, but I am not the marrying type. I will tread a different path. But I’m ever so pleased to see V and E set off on theirs.
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