I was stuffing my face with pizza while my cousin tried to pile eyeliner on me. It had been a frantic morning, but with only an hour to go I was starting to feel the nerves. I had left all the planning to Marie so I didn’t even know how they had decorated the beach and what the musicians were going to be like. I was just going to turn up and let it happen.
It went beautifully. I was rowed (very slowly) to the beach with other guests of the resort waving from the wharf.
After some hard rowing, the beach was in sight with the congregation of my close family and friends looking on. It was a surprise to them that I was arriving on a canoe and I could see cameras flashing and audible excitement coming through across the water. My husband looking handsome – if not a little dazed. There was a floral arch, cloth covered chairs and islander warriors ready to serenade me down the floral isle. As much as I didn’t know what was happening, it was happening exactly the way I had pictured it, and we exchanged the most beautiful vow (in my laziness, also provided by the resort) and promised to be each other’s best friend for the rest of our lives.
I had chosen to have a buffet dinner for reception and the small party of 25 enjoyed an Asian style feast. The entire wedding had been quite a relaxed process for us. While the details were vague in the beginning, we were happy for someone to be doing all the legwork for us, which was one of our reasons to have a destination wedding. We were happy to just go along with it.
Of course, it won’t be a destination wedding without one last oversight.
“I think, we can serve the wedding cake now.” I requested from a waiter waiting by the door.
“Wedding cake?” I could see he was confused, and smiled with embarrassment as he excused himself to check.
Ten minutes later, I had Marie on the phone.
“But you didn’t want a wedding cake!” There was a slight panic in Marie’s voice.
“No I said to keep whatever that is in the package.”
“But there isn’t a wedding cake in your package, that’s why I thought you didn’t want one.”
Right. My bad.
Just as well, the dessert bar was stocked with cakes, biscuits and fruits. And I believe everyone was happy in the end.
Based in Sydney, Australia, Amy Huang is a writer stuck in the corporate world. A Business Analyst by profession, she works her life around travelling and has managed to squeeze in postgraduate studies in writing somewhere in between. Amy met her husband in 2006 while working on a community development project in Peru, and the travel-holic pair celebrated their love by getting married in Vanuatu in 2010. Amy keeps a blog on various travel topics at www.travelstring.com.