At 9am on Saturday I was delivering breakfast pastries for a bride too nervous to eat.
24 hours later, I was returning in a cab after sharing a post-party beer in broad daylight (8am) with two old friends and Inaki Aizpitarte.
This being my first French wedding, I can only assume that they are all like this.
The marriage of Petite Anglaise and her Boy, in between those two early morning bookends, was a completely joyful affair.
Friends from both sides of the English Channel gathered for a ceremony at the town hall, champagne, a sweet lunch at Vin Chai Moi, more champagne, more food, rowdy dancing, and still more champagne.
What I'll never forget:
- The radiance and endless grinning of the bride and groom
- Le Maire, after performing his duties, admitting that he recognized Cath and asking for a photo with the couple
- Seeing the groom's mother shaking her booty to Blur's "Girls & Boys"
- Watching French girls throwing up discretely in the garden before returning to the party looking elegant as ever