We are deep in the hedgerows of South-West West England for an aristocratic wedding. Mrs. BB’s dear childhood friend is marrying a toff.
It is a big event and many years in the making. A whirlwind romance 7 years ago resulted in a false start after a wedding in Tuscany was postponed. His track record was 0 for 3 and it was decided to take a bit more time.
It is a story with a long first chapter but a fairy tale ending.
We assemble at the noble ancestral pile for the big event. Mrs. BB and I are accommodated in a room that is larger than our flat. The views of the estate grounds are spectacular. The tiny chapel in which they are to be married is 50 meters up the hill set in an idyllic country setting.
I wake and head to the kitchen to fetch coffee and breakfast. I return to find a strange semi-naked man sitting on our bed chatting to Mrs. BB. They apparently know each other quite well and are giggling. He is eying my dapper Hugh Heffner pyjamas and the coffee.
“Would you like a coffee,” I ask putting the tray down before scuttling back to the kitchen to fetch more?
He is an old school friend of Mrs.BB and the bride and the Master of Ceremonies. He is grateful for the coffee. Only in an English manor house do such things happen, he is accommodated in the adjoining room. I had to wee badly in the middle of the night and almost mistook his room for the bathroom.
Thank the gods, I can only image introducing myself, “Hi, we haven’t met, I’m the chap that urinated on you in the middle of the night, so sorry.”
The service is heartwarming, as are the dinner speeches. I have never experienced such an expressive and welcoming bunch of loved up toffs. It is quite extraordinary. English toffs are usually, well, more toffish.
I love the English upper-class though I couldn’t eat a whole one. A more eccentric and emotionally repressed group it is difficult to find. Often they are a dichotomy. On one had you have horse riding, shooting, and opera, and the other, school expulsions, drink driving, and sodomy. I mean, really.
They are certainly sporty drinkers, keen storytellers, and rampant smokers, so they make good company for me, though the plum accents and potty behaviors remind me of Tim Nice-But-Dim.
Mrs. BB’s friend is radiant. She is a beautiful and outstanding woman. I have to think that before she arrived, the old house was a colder place.
I watch her gracefully weave amongst a community of old and new acquaintances. She is always exciting, smiling and full of life. She makes others feel comfortable and happy.
It is she who has thawed the hearts of this family and community and brought warmth to this old house.
It is an occasion of great joy.
My new toff friend, you are one lucky man.
Beaverboosh
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
14 comments:
I say, it sounds like you are have a jolly good time - as one should when one is in such company.
Did you go for a promenade or were you utterly gazeboed?
if you had unloaded your bladder on the half-naked toff, i suspect he'd have been quite civil about it... please tell me he said "jolly good" at some point!
A romanticist crazy story and hilarious vid - thanks for sharing!
I love a good toff wedding
Oh jolly hockey sticks - sounds rather splendid. Isn't Harry Enfield just fabulous?
i don't have toff friends. is my life incomplete without one?
Hope you post some pictures... & I LOVE Harry Enfield..sp?
Only European can pretend to be aristocratic. When North Americans try, they fail. Really.
I must use the word toff more in my everyday conversations...that is if I had everyday conversations...
Wow. And I thought I had it good, attending a wedding in lovely Pella, Iowa (which is a place settled by Dutch, with a very Dutch theme) this past weekend.
We stayed in the Royal Amsterdam Hotel, which was okay. The wedding was the first in the new building for the Lutheran church.
The reception was in the old Pella Opera House. Very nice.
And yet, it was all still so American.
On the upside, however, at brunch the next day I met the bride's mother's cousin Helge.....from Oslo, Norway! Helge says he will be delighted to show us around Norway if we ever get up that way.
All in all, I'd say it was especially good for us as I did not find a half naked man on the bed with my wife. That sort of ménage à trois is not the kind I've ever had in mind.
By the by: What's a toff?
Oh yes - I had a jolly old fellow who took quite a liking to me when we lived in Ringwood.
He was fascinated by my Australian accent and loved listening to me talk (when his hearing aid was functional). We had many a conversation about the geographical location of Durban but could never agree on the exact position in the outback.
He did however know exactly where his castle lay in Scotland.....
The only thing that could have improved this lovely story is a gruesome murder that would have required the police to secure all of you at the estate until the booze and food ran out and you began to feed on yourselves. Inspector Lynley meets Toff Zombies. I like it... Next time you go to something like this, BB, kill someone.
jm - vfunny! pyjama'd
df - loads of jolly goods, jolly wells, that jolly... oh dear
renny - my pleaure, harry enfield is a treasure
nm - you and me both... i hope you'll invite me to your wedding when you marry a toff
oslo - fab, kevin a fave, how about the south african chemist, hehehehe...
d - definitely not, nothing jabbing yourself in the leg with a fork cannot replace
ain - pictures, me, yeah right... you, me, renny and oslo need to have an enfield night!
zhu - you are soooo right, NA accents sound ridiculous in Europe full stop, i know, i have one!
cf - easy to do in blighty, there are still soooo many of them around... good luck on trying to, well, have daily conversations a bit more often
rob - sounds lovely, goes without saying you have my services at your disposal if you are ever in Oslo, would be delighted... start saving though, it is the most expensive city on the planet
rob - re: toff - see youtube clip
caroline - thank the lords he could find his castle in Scotland... toff... hahahaha
michele darling, well, i approached it as an Agatha Christie weekend (the mrs and i are big fans)... I came close to murdering a few guests but behaved and refrained!
Post a Comment