The main event and the reason for coming to Norway was just hours away. Leaving Aimi to do her makeup, I met Angus and Scott at the bakery for coffee and cinnamon buns. A beautiful morning, it looked like the forecasts were wrong on this important day.
Picking Angus up, we head up the fjord to Bygland and the church in which Ben and Becki were to be wed. Tall, white and slightly crooked, made from huge timber logs interlocked at the corners, the church had clearly been here for generations. It didn’t have all the decoration or carvings you’d expect which I thought strange for a wooden church. Inside the pews lined up with high sides and little doors with latches to lock you in, beneath a simple ceiling, again without carvings or paintings. It was a simple local church for worship, without the pretence of grandeur. Large functional iron furnaces stood as tall as me in the corners filling the place with musty warmth.
Prompt as ever, Becki walked down the aisle on her fathers arm, trembling looking at Ben awaiting her at the altar. Clean shaven and head polished, he scrubbed up nicely and looked surprisingly smart, if you knew what he usually wore. Handing Becki into his care, the ceremony was very traditional and more religious than I realised they practiced.
Once the confetti was thrown, we headed over to the reception hotel and then hid inside from the cold till people arrived. Yesterday the lads had erected a marquee and we gathered there for the couples arrival and champagne, but quickly went back inside when Aimi’s lips started turning blue.
Dinner was great fun and typically English, but some Norwegian traditions were snuck in. Whenever glasses were pinged with a knife, everyone was to join in until the couple climbed in their chairs and kissed. Also, whenever everyone stamped their feet, the couple had to go under the table and kiss. It started looking like the Hokey Cokey making them jump up and down. Then when Ben popped out to the loo, all the men ran to the top table to give Becki a peck on the cheek. Of course not long later, it was Ben’s turn as all the women ran up and gave him a peck in return.
Of course no wedding would be complete without the speeches. Becki’s dad’s speech was very moving and nostalgic airing some of her childhood idiosyncrasies. Our new nickname for her is now Mole! And been shocked us again with his eloquent and heartfelt speech to us all about his wonderful bride. I don’t know why it’s a shock, but we have only ever known him, in his own words, as a “pixie of chaos”.
As a joke and to add a bit of chaos of our own, we vollenominated Angus to do a speech. I arranged it with the best man to announce him at the next break. Of course we hadn’t told Angus he had this responsibility so whooped and cheered when he was announced. Of course the joke was on us as he jumped up and nonchalantly delivered a beautiful speech right off the cuff leaving us all stunned.
From there we descended into drunken revelry with lots of jumping around to a wide selection of music. There is a contingent of Indians working at Trollakitv and they brought their own distinct style of dancing and music to the festivities. It was great dancing with so many different nationalities. The night ended with some truly DANK dubstep.
I was designated driver, but have never let this slow me down. And apart from drunk uncle knobhead getting a bit feisty (every wedding has one of them) and a poor girl stepping on some glass and leaving puddles of blood down the hallway (she was fine, it looked worse than it was) it was just a fantastic evening of huge smiles and energetic dancing.