If somebody proposed flying 4000 miles to a different continent for only 5 days with the primary purpose of attending a party, would you do it? Assuming you weren’t being hand-delivered a diamond-encrusted invitation to sit next to George Clooney at the Oscars, I think it’s fair to say that most of us would at least need to give some consideration to the decision. There are annual leave days to count, flight prices to check, jet lag to contend and work commitments to adhere to.
Add to this the fact that I have never been much of a champagne-sipping, stiletto-wearing socialite, wherever the party happens to be at – but when it comes to weddings, I AM SOLD. Whether I’m roofed under a rustic barn with a raucous Scottish ceilidh or mucking into a plate-smashing Greek shin-dig, I LOVE a good wedding and if I am ever out of a day job, you’ll find me studiously inspecting the fine print of the wedding crashers’ manual, front to back 😀
There is something about the fairytale flutter of newlywed butterflies whirring round the stomach of a beaming bride, something about the sense of adventure and hope and the promise of partnership that gets me every time and with two weddings already under our belt by the end of January this year, we stepped on board our first international flight of 2017 to watch one of our nearest and dearest take her vows at a Delhi wedding of epic proportions.
First though, a little introduction for those of you who have never been to a Big Fat Indian Wedding; it is never one day, one party or one outfit.