HE STOOD there like a Roman emperor surveying his minions. The man of the hour, Nick Nicey Machin, could not have looked more content with life had his beloved football team Lincoln City won the Premier League. We were at the William Aiken House on King Street, a beautiful wedding venue accompanied by beautiful weather. At 6pm the humidity was still high but fortunately the guests all had hand-held fans placed on their seats to provide respite. This 1810 estate is one of Charleston’s most sought-after venues for weddings, private receptions, meetings and corporate events and was also featured in Hollywood film The Notebook.
To mark the occasion Nick and his bride made their own small film, explaining how they met in a bar in Boston when our intrepid traveller was in the company of an associate he still refers to mysteriously as Whitesnake. This Mullet-haired individual from England's Black Country was wearing a football shirt pledging allegiance to Birmingham City and they met in the hostel where Nick was staying the day before July 4, arranging to meet up for the very English tradition of a pub crawl to mark American Independence Day. They then split up until rendezvousing for their drinking session the day after.
Little did Nick know that the night before Whitesnake had bumped into three young ladies from New York City, who were partying like there was no tomorrow. One of them, Nick's future bride, serenaded him with the Whitesnake song Here I Go Again because that band name was emblazoned across the Brummie's tee shirt. It was in an Irish bar called Hennessey's that these two Worlds collided. Nick was minding his own business with his new pal when a shout went up from the bar. "Whitesnake! Whitesnake". His drinking buddy then disappeared in the direction of three women, while Nick twiddled his thumbs and imagined it was the end of his evening. Actually, it wasn't. It was the start of the rest of his life. One of the girls, Sufia, wandered over and admits to being smitten by the accent of this follicly challenged Lincolnshirite. Result. They met up in New York a few days later and things have never been the same since. Sufia has visited Cardiff for six months, with her "dog of honour" Ellie, and got to know Nick's friends and family.
So on to the nuptials which were staged outside the main house in the wonderful gardens. We found Nick standing on the elegant pergola and considering his dapper appearance in the reflection pool in front. There were seats on either side leading up to the pool and we were also provided with small bottles of bubbles to blow in the direction of the bride and groom after the ceremony. The Baker Boy had risen to the occasion by wearing one of his 20 pairs of Vivienne Westwood shoes, these coloured gold, which were a main talking point.
Taking our seats, Nick arrived with the Master of Ceremonies, followed by best man Gary "Bernard Breslaw" Rudd and the Maid of honour, Sufia's sister Meme. Somehow Groomsman Danny Boy "the Poipes, the Poipes" had managed to negotiate it so that he was accompanied by two of Sufia's bridesmaids and he was later joined by Dave "the Guitar" Prescott and Nick's brother Simon. It was all very tastefully done, the men looking dapper in suits and the girls splendid in purple dresses: Kyra Stewart, Giselle Duarte-Cohen, Alyson Gunn, Cari Bell-Deduke and junior bridesmaid, Nick's niece Annalise. Following on was little flower girl Kelsey who looked heartbreakingly cute as she laid petals on the route to the alter. Then came the big moment.
I'm afraid I'm not David Emmanuel or, for that matter, any one of those posh BBC presenters who describe Royal Weddings, so I can't adequately describe the shimmering white dress with gold braidings that Sufia was wearing. It's fair to say she looked like royalty, though, and Nick couldn't hide his delight. Interestingly, though, as the ceremony began, the four hours it took to put Sufia's make-up on that day was almost made irrelevant as "dog of honour" Ellie proceeded to try to lick it off. Anyway, the ceremony was all very beautiful, even featuring the traditional "finger-licking good" honey sucking. This is a Persian tradition where bride and groom lick honey off each others fingers to "sweeten" the wedding. Don't think it will catch on down the registry office in Boston, Lincs, but you never know. Still, ceremony over, the bride threw herself into a long snog with the groom and we applauded them out, before moving into the main hall for drinkies. Let the partying begin.
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