Hen Do

So, many close friends were surprised to learn via the intimate channels of Facebook that I am due to be legally married next Friday. The reason many people don't know this, and I am coming across as a spontaneous, slightly mental, eloper is because as far as Nico and I are concerned, the wedding is in December, as you all know. Conversations about lanterns, the colour purple, French translations, shoes and hymns all revolve around the real wedding. In December.  However, justice systems throughout the world don't see it like we do, thus we need to get married before commonwealth law as well as the eyes of God with our nearest and dearest as witnesses to the event and our undying, somewhat mushy and never ending love for one another. 

To actually tell you the process that lead up to this point would be boring, so let me transform it into an amusing and reduced script:

Priest: I'm sorry to inform you, I cannot legally marry you, because you're not in the country long enough before your wedding. God's still available on that date, though, so the church is still yours. 

St. Albans Registry Office: I'm sorry, we cannot legally marry you, because you're not in the country long enough before your wedding. 

Me: my grandparents are going to have a heart attack when they realise this is a sham wedding. 

Singapore: we can legally marry you because we are awesome and part of the commonwealth, so your marriage will be recognised in the UK without any further paperwork. All you will need is your passports, two witnesses and their passports, 15 non-consecutive days in the country and a lengthy online form process.

Me: phew. RoD?

RoD: yes.  Available. 

Frenchie: my parents are going to have a heart attack when they realise this is a sham, only-legal-in-British-commonwealth-countries-wedding. I am French and I hate the British. 

French consulate: we are incredibly useless and frustrating, but eventually we will meet you and publish your wedding banns so that this sham wedding is recognised in France. 

Frenchie: phew. 

Me: phew. 

RoD: so, since I can come to your legal wedding, but not your real wedding, we must only ever refer to the legal wedding as your real wedding. The one at Christmas is a sham. 

Me: got it. 

So now RoD have found ourselves in the departure lounge of Saigon airport once more:

...following an International Day at school where I dressed as a global bookshelf and spent the day raising the profile of international reading and even walked down a catwalk with and as a book, followed by a come-to-life Gatsby and Daisy:

I just love reading. 

We managed to trump even my 'wait-in-the-bar-until-your-name-is-called-over-the-tannoy' approach by having a very unhappy man waving a Tiger Airlines sign accost us just after we'd paid our bill and tell us to hurry up because we were the last people to board the flight. Then, a colleague who was also in the airport, rang RoD to ask her if she was okay because they'd just heard our names over the tannoy. Obviously, the message was 'board your flight on time', but I was just enthralled by the fact that if you force them to, airlines will up their game and lay on a personal hosting service for you to take you from the bar to the gate. If I'd known this before, I would never have gotten to the gate on time!  I want the first class experience as a standard, please!

Anyway, now we are off for a stopover at Changi airport before a lovely hen do in Penang, full of UNESCO World Heritage sights, beaches, diving, cocktails and afternoon tea. What more could a girl want?