It was a sunny, Saturday morning. Birds were tweeting, leaves were rustling and, possibly more importantly than all of that, Millie and Alex were getting married. Not only that, but they were getting married is what I later found to be one to most remote locations in England – St Mawes, in Cornwall. Michelle and I had arranged to pick Mark (an erstwhile, long-suffering friend from my days at Sun) and his delightful girlfriend Julia. Excitement literally oozed out of me* as we sped off down the A roads, eating into the 520-mile round trip with all haste.
After an hour, my excitement was flagging. The placid ride of my hired Vauxhall Vectra had lulled me into a coma, and Mark was gently snoozing in the back. Suddenly, Mark hit the jackpot – “We should look out for animals, say the animals name and then do the sound associated with that animal” he announced, and forthwith we launched into a load of MOOOOs, BAAAAAs and OINKs without embarrassment. This however proved a struggle for me – my cry of “SHEEP, MOOOOOO” was greeted with large titters and wild applause.
Four and a half hours and two wrong turnings later, we arrived. St Mawes is everything we were promised – a paradise by the sea.. The tranquil, picturesque village surrounded a wide bay, and the bright sun set it all off nicely. Our hotel was right on the seafront, and after dumping our luggage we headed for the nearest pub to meet the others.
Well, I say nearest. We in fact passed 5 pubs before climbing a long hill to the planned meeting place, a rather posh hotel. A few drinks were had, and then we snafled back to our rooms to prepare for the night ahead.
Millie has plainly been keeping a few things quiet. For as we walked into the grounds of her dad’s enormous seafront house, we discovered just how rich he really is. The enormous white Georgian home was set in about 3 acres of gardens, all of which was open to the public. At the bottom of the garden, a small round pergola overlooked the sea. This astonishingly beautiful place was the setting for Millie’s wedding. We were in awe.
The rest of the night was a little hazy. Alcohol took effect half way through the meal, but I have photographic evidence that we enjoyed dancing for hours in the dance tent set in the grounds. The photos are here. They do not lie.
The following morning were were all suffering the effects, and as we drove home Michelle and I reflected on the events of the past day. It may be 253 miles away from home, but it’s a paradise on earth. Congratulations, Alex and Millie de la Salle.
* Not strictly true.