Giraffes, weddings, castles and a haunted swamp!

It was my mate Claire’s wedding at Lympne Castle today. I woke up feeling very stiff, not in a morning glory sort of way either. It was from sleeping in a tent, at the Daleacres campsite on the south coast. £20 for two nights was far preferable to £180 and the benefit of a comfy bed!

I crawled out to a warm, but slightly overcast morning, filled my cereal bowl and ate breakfast on the grass. Then it was a short walk to the toilet block…..there were fancy caravans everywhere, typically owned by elderly couples, all of whom wanted to say good morning. It was a cheery place and I was cheery too, being the youngest by a country mile. Then I paid for my pitch, moved my tent to the appropriate place and got my running kit on. Trotting out to the road, I could tell the legs weren’t quite optimal and I was sweating profusely in the heat, despite running easy!

I found myself the military canal towpath, an awesome place for a run. The canal is cut through marshland which is teaming with wildlife, flora and fauna! Heaven for me. To my right there was a high security fence….maybe an army base I thought! I thought wrong………Wtf……There it was, a giraffe chomping on a tree and 30 seconds later I saw a bloody herd of antelope! No, I hadn’t woken up as Mr Ben and found myself in a game reserve, it was Port Lympe safari park. Trust me not to have the camera.

Back at the campsite after my run, I popped my trainers off and got straight in a cold shower, still wearing my kit! Great way to wash and not have smelly stuff in my tent. Then, after getting some fresh clothes on I headed off to the campsite shop for elevenses. The only things available were ice-cream and cans of juice, so that’s what I had. I settled down, read my book for an hour and then got into my wedding regalia, a kilt to be specific. It was a magic kilt…..as soon as I got it on I transformed into George Clooney!

Top tip……never walk through a campsite full of elderly ladies in a kilt. “Oooooh isn’t he handsome” one particularly portly lady, wearing a white blouse, gold chains and crinkly weather worn skin, cat called. “Give me a whirl” another shouted…..with me being met with giggles that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Carry On film. The lady from the campsite office was far more demure, wanting to feel the quality of the wool and examine the deepness of pleat!

Although there was a short-cut up to the castle which involved a very steep and muddy track, I decided to follow the road. Typical…..a convertible mini full of ‘young ladies’ drove past, whistling and shouting sexually inappropriate comments. I was about to shout “I am not an object put on this earth for your pleasure” but smiled in mild amusement instead. The road steepened to a level that matched the rate I was now sweating at! I forgot what a summer in Kent was like!

As one of the first to arrive at the wedding, I couldn’t find anyone I knew so found a quiet spot to ‘dry out’. The view was awesome, looking out to the marshland and the English Channel. I certainly felt like the Laird, particularly proud to be sitting in a Kentish Castle in a kilt. I had a quick peek in the dining room and was shocked to see all the chairs were dressed as Claire! Big bloody blue bows….the type of think she’d have on a dress! Soon people I knew started to arrive so the day proper began! It was really nice to meet Claire’s mum and step-dad. Although I’ve never met Sharon before, she gave me a bone-crushing hug. Steve called me Baldman…..despite never having met me either and mentioned the C word in his first sentence. A lot was making sense!

We went into the room where the ceremony would take place and I was sat beside Del Boy and Adam…..Del being a sporting freak and cricket coach, Adam being a cricket fan and sports correspondent for the BBC. The harpist started to play but the cricket chat continued. Claire was only a few fashionable minutes late walking down the aisle, looking fit….. I mean beautiful and classy! It’s amazing what a bit material can do! (She will read this). I always want to cry at weddings but never do! Anyway….we all know how weddings go…. A few people do some soppy readings, a registrar does the formalities, the bride and groom panic over getting the vows right, there’s a kiss or two and everyone claps, looks at each other and says “aren’t they lovely”, everyone claps again and then heads out for photos. The photographer was quite a geezer and funny too, picking on me twice for standing in the wrong place.

When it was my time to congratulate the bride, I didn’t have a clue what to say! Sure it was along the lines of “f****** hell, you’re married” and feeling weird giving Claire a big hug when she was in a posh white dress! It was great when dinner came as most people were starving. Our table was cool, Dave and Luke two of Claire’s mates who were Medway’s answer to Ant n Dec, albeit with pottier mouths, Dan the Groom’s  friends from Birmingham who’s names I forget, Jamie a physiologist who works in Canterbury….strategically placed next to me and a few partners. The speeches were pretty good, well below the standard I set at my mate Bryan’s wedding though (he hardly spoke to me for days after that, even though most others were falling off their chairs in shocked hysterics).

The rest of the day was cool, meeting some old acquaintances from my time in Canterbury, speaking academic stuff most of the time. It was great to see my mate Helen, a crazy welsh lass with a heart bigger than a big thing. She was bridesmaid and had done a fine organising job. Claire’s mum gave me a little talk….which meant the world to me…..slightly emotional. Before I knew it, the band had stopped playing and it was midnight. I said my goodbyes and headed back to the campsite, only a 4km march on unlit roads (I had a torch in my sporran). Spookie…..these noises coming out of those marshes!