1 Down, 4 2 Go

It's official, the first of my cousins is down and out of the bachelor's life. On Sunday, at 17:23, my cousin and his lovely bride said their vows and were officially joined in the holy state of matrimony in the eyes of God and country. And then the party started :-)

Actually, the whole weekend was one HUGE party. Oh my word, but those westcoasters know how to have a good time. We, meaning Rosalind and I, left Stellies at about 15:10 on Friday afternoon and tackled the 300 odd kilometers to Lambertsbaai. Now off the bat, let me say this. I love to drive. And I really love to drive my dad's car. It's a Golf 4 1800cc and it is one lovely ride. There are reasons why the guys at Top Gear Extra made it their car of the year (hell, they even hit the thing with lightning, and not only did the presenter survive, the car started without a hitch; but that is a story for another time). And those reasons are power, comfort and safety. And it was the safety bit that really got tested on the trip. About 10 k's out of Lambertsbaai I had to pass a big 18 wheeler. But just as I was about to reach the cabin part of the rig, a gust of wind pushed the truck into my lane. Options: get ridden over or go off-road. Fortunately for us the side of the road consisted of gravel, so I was able to pull the car over and drive with only two wheels off of the tarmac. Unfortunately, due to the fact that the wheels on the left side of the car had more traction than the wheels on the right side, the car started spinning out to the right. All I will say is, thank God for German engineering and hours spent playing Mobil Rally 2004 (where, incidentally one of the rally cars is a Golf 4). All I had to do was gently pull the steering to the left to get back on the road surface and then push the accelerator to the floor. The car responded beautifully and pulled itself back into a straight line. But as scary as that was, it was nothing compared to the adrenaline rush that I experienced later in the weekend.

That evening we went to a restaurant called Muisbosskerm. True to African style, it had huge cook fires in the center, and was surrounded by a 7 foot tall boma to keep out the icy cold west coast winds. The menu consisted of fish, fish, more fish and freshly baked bread. All I will say is that good food, great people and a bit of alcohol goes a long way to soothe a man's soul. But the most impressive 'aspect' of the evening was Rosalind. Despite not being able to speak Afrikaans, she quickly won over the members of my family with her charm and genuine warmth.

The wedding was scheduled for 17:00 on Saturday afternoon. So we basically had the whole day to lounge around, go to the beach and generally relax. While my poor cousin got more nervous by the second and it fell to his younger brother to try and distract him. Finally, the moment of truth arrived and off we went to the church. I have NEVER seen my cousin so nervous. He is usually as steady as a rock, but for the last 30 minutes leading up to the whole ceremony, he looked decidedly freaked out. But let me point out. He did not look freaked out because he had second thoughts, he was just nervous because he wanted everything to go as planned. And in the end everything went off without a hitch. Although I do not think he or his bride heard much of the ceremony. Mostly they were staring into each other's eyes or grinning like idiots at each other :-D

The reception that followed the wedding was truly amazing. The hall was stunningly decorated and the amount of effort that went into every detail boggled the mind. Kudos for the bride's mother for pulling such a feat off. The reception followed the standard sequence of wedding receptions the world over. People getting settled, the men buying a first round of drinks, followed by speeches and toasts, followed by a bit of dancing, followed by a gargantuan five course meal, followed by more dancing, followed by some silly dancing. Thankfully, the speeches and toasts were short and sweet. Also of note, was my one younger cousin nearly nailing the DJ with a champagnes cork, from across the hall. Good shot lad, good shot.

But the best part of the evening was the dancing. Which is why it is getting a paragraph all of its own. True to a Afrikaner party, the dancing consisted mostly of the two-step, sokkie and boere-waltz. The first thing to note, was the fact that music for the boere-waltz is very similar to that of the Venice-waltz. So come the new year, I'm going to have to learn how to dance the bloody thing, without getting motion sick. Secondly, neither Rosalind nor I know how to sokkie, thank God. BUT. Among all of that music, during certain songs we were able to recognise the beat for dances such as the Rhythm Foxtrot and the Quick Step. So we were able to take a couple of turns around the dance floor. But the best came while dinner was being served. The DJ played nice and slow music, music that turned out to be perfect for dances such as the Rumba and the ballroom Waltz. Now for those of you who do not know me, these two dances are by far my favourite ones. So, while all of the people sat down to dinner, Rosalind and I got up and did a Rumba. It was ... stunning. We were in perfect sync, we followed the beat of the music without flaw and we pulled of each move with grace. Gladys would have been proud. That one dance will live in my memories till the day I die. When we got back to our table, the adrenaline hit us both so hard that I for one had trouble keeping my fork steady. Unfortunately, we did not get to dance a Waltz, because just before we finished our meal, my idiot cousin asked the DJ to play faster music. Bastard.

The rest of the evening flew by as we kuiered and laughed with the people at our table. And of course, true to form, the DJ started playing music from the sixties and seventies during the latter part of the evening. This suited Rosalind and me just fine, because then we were able to get really going with dances such as the Jive and the Boogey. I think I really like the Boogey.

At around one o'clock, the party started winding down. People said their goodbyes to each other and wished the happy couple the best of luck. My cousin said he has never kissed so many women in his life in one go and he was pretty sure he had every kind of lipstick on his lips after all was said and done. But the surprising thing was how many complete strangers (all women) came to Rosalind afterwards and told her how beautiful she looked and how amazingly she had danced. Now, I agree on the fact that she looked absolutely stunning in her red dress, but hey, she didn't dance alone. Grumble, grumble . . . *grin*. Nah, I'm just chuffed she had such a good time.

The journey home was uneventful, i.e. no near death experiences. I must say, there is something to be said for driving along at a steady clip, the road open before you, the tires happily crunching kilometer after kilometer and having good company to chat with. I think the most important thing for this weekend was the fact that my friendship with Rosalind has finally passed the stage where we just present our 'nice' faces to each other. Recently, a friend told me that if you can survive an extended journey with a person, your friendship will be that much stronger. That was certainly true for this trip, and I am glad I can now count Rosalind as a close and trusted friend.