Northern Hemisphere 2006 - Part 5 - Gye sur Seine - Formal Wedding Ceremony.

So we somehow recovered from the Bucks Party and greeted some more of the clan. Roger and Hilary with Ben arrived, and Chris and Tim from New Zealand too. It was starting to feel like a real reunion, the first time I think that any of Jem's cousins from all sides of the family and both hemispheres had met each other. This was cause for celebration, and there was a lot of serious choosing of wine and cheese at the nearby supermarche to assist. Thank god for the moins cher (less expensive) wines on offer in France. I was a doubter I must admit, but there is some fantastic wine available and much cheaper than we can source here in Australia.

Tim and Chris had had an awful time trying to get their luggage to join them in France, and they really must have done very well in the airport since their French language skills would have had to battle to try and describe their route and predicament. Thank goodness they made it, it was wonderful to see them, though Chris was starting to look more like a Harris than ever. Tim for his part was trying to look like a cross between Hulk Hogan and Bootsy Collins, at least in the afro department. How cool to see them.

The stress levels were starting to peak as there was so much to be done to prepare for the 2 wedding ceremonies Jem and Arielle were to have. France's traditions differ from many in that you do not need to marry in a church, often it's just done for show, or for religeous beliefs. The signing of the registry and the formal vow-taking/giving need not be done by a priest, but by a suitably empowered official. This was kind of weird for the Aussies.

During the day before the formal ceremony (for which we dressed more casually) there was so much to do. The Salle de Fete which was to hold the reception needed serious decking out. Some massive white material was draped against gravity's wishes across the ceiling, and a couple of trees were felled by Alain to place at the entrance. These proved to be man-eating little trees, at which gravity exacted its revenge against the aforementioned material. We tried to keep them standing up and wrap wire around their girths to keep them up, but swear words in two languages could often be heard sprinkling the air as they repeatedly felled themselves.

Finally they stayed up and were decorated with bows, and despite Arielle's protestations to the contrary they really did add something to the Salle de Fete, like some sort of double christmas. Which it was in a way.

Lunch nearly every day was a major affair, in one of the large winery sheds which filled with tables and chairs and the classic French foods. Cheeses, cold meats, a few salads, baguettes and lots of wine. Everyone was so generous.

As dusk approached we got ready for the ceremony, in our second-best clothes, and headed the 100 metres to the town hall where the mood was quite reserved. This was a ceremony for family and close friends only, and we filed upstairs. The official certainly looked very official, in his tricolour sash over a suit, and a lady who was eminently sensible also. There was a lot of introduction to the statutes and law of France when it came to marriage, and I had trouble making out a lot of the words. Finally though, the couple were able to come forward and say "Oui!" to each other.

As always, unofficial wedding mascot, Bogart the Cheeky, made his way up, so as not to be left out, with those telltale nails clicking on the stairs, and as I had been half-expecting it, I jumped up to steer him back down before he could say arf. The doors had been left open for Dave and Rob Rowe who were en route from Italy, and they made it before the end, perfect timing. Bogart is what you would call an opportunist however, and his little stunt made sure he was the talking point of the night again.

The ceremony and signings were done, and it was official! They were united in the eyes of the... constitution! Now for the Lord!