I survived... Just.

My best friend's wedding has been and gone and the dreaded, gawddamn awful business of a giving a speech has been done and dusted.

I shat myself for days before hand and I shudder at the thought of ever doing it ever again but for an almost blissful few minutes at the wedding meal, just before the speeches I entered what can only be described as a zen-like calm, almost nirvanic.

And then I stood up and the game went to shit. My hands shook like a bastard but hopefully, that wasn't too visible at range.

Still I got my laughs, stuck a few gags in there and managed to stumble through the words in some semblance of order.

What a day though...

There are formal weddings and there are Formal weddings and this was the latter. I'm not saying everyone had a stick up their arse, far from it, but it was a very traditional arrangement.

'Proper' religious wedding, gazillions of photos taken, then bride and groom arrive at the venue on horse-drawn cart.

Mincing about... socializing... more photos.

Then a meet and greet on the way into the meal or the 'Shaky hands' bit as it was referred. All the guests parading past the Bride's parents, Groom's parents, the Best man (moi!), then the happy couple. Meal taken, seated at the head table facing all the room of circular tables...

You get the idea...

Needless to say I was somewhat glad to get to my room and take a break before the evening do. Fuck me purple... the room was incredible.

A few weeks earlier when me and Shortstuff had been shown the venue, we heard that Kiera Knightly was staying there because she was filming in a town just up the road - No shit, if I was a celebrity, I'd have flipping stayed there too. Fan-fluffing-tastic!

Very expensive for the night, like £130 quid(!) but I don't begrudge paying that for a minute.

I've stayed in the occasional nice place on holiday but this was taking the piss... I have discovered that no matter how smart the place when it all comes down to it, an Englishman just wants some stone and some big-arse wooden beams – it must be some kind of ingrained historical preference!

You even got a teddy bear on your bed. (It was posh too)

...And there was the Evening do – and joy of joys my Ex was there – it was like 8-9 years ago and I've probably on caught glance of her once or twice in that time (not by choice either) and it's reassuring to know that we're still not prepared to speak to each other.

Shortstuff was complaining she was giving her evil eyes all night and even the Bride said so too, but I reassured her with the notion she was getting all the evils because I wasn't in the room to catch the flying daggers myself! My brother's explanation wasn't that she staring as such - more it was just the way her boggle eyes are! He had a point... lol

All in all, a cracking day really, the style of wedding is absolutely not for me too over-the-top, but it has been and now its gone. I've met loads of people and seen a few old school friends for the first time in years and now I can relax - safe in the knowledge that unless everyone my brother knows is killed off in some weird, random genetic plague (or drink themselves to death which wouldn't be totally inconceivable...) that I will never have to give a best-man's speech ever again!

'Twas nice also to see that a couple of the old school chums have got receding hairlines too!!! I'd have really hated to be the only one – that would pissed me off something chronic. Its strangely nice to see, along with those already graying, that I'm not the only one the years gone by have taken a bite out of!